Multiverse Crisis MUSH - User contributions [en]

6928/Crimson Tears

2020-03-01T20:09:51Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/12/05 |Location=Somewhere on the Road |Synopsis=August Kohler tries to leave, and runs into one last complication... and obligation. |Cast of..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/12/05
|Location=Somewhere on the Road
|Synopsis=August Kohler tries to leave, and runs into one last complication... and obligation.
|Cast of Characters=894, 1151
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' It's been a long trek. August Kohler has been driving a truck, dressed in his winter coat and long jeans. He'd look like a trucker if he wasn't clearly pretty young and way too pretty. His parents are currently at a motel, sleeping off the ride and the fact that the world they knew is so, so wrong. August has had a lot of time to himself, then. A lot of time to consider what Janine and Sanary had said. He can go far. He can have a happy life. Peace is an option for him. He's currently parked at a gas station near the motel, the only car out in the dark filling up tonight. His red truck has a tarp over the back, restrained tight, and August has been watching it night over night to make sure no one robs them. He's used to sleep deprivation, after all. As he fills the tank, he hums to himself, briefly. He's not expecting anything to happen. And if it did, he can handle it, right? 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The tiny convenience store wedged around a register directly adjacent to the gas pumps is more frequently visited than the pumps themselves. People wandering over, ducking inside and then hastily beating a retreat isn't uncommon, August would have noticed. There might be a thriving drug trade, or maybe just a lot of people who really like gas station burritos in this lonely neck of the woods. "Hey, old timer." A girl -- not much younger than August, it looks like, though he certainly carries himself with more hardship than his face reflects -- stands near his pump. She's at the opposite end of the pool of light cast by the dirty overhead lamp, black hair almost gleaming in the dim luminescence that catches it. She's dressed in a battered army surplus coat, torn jeans, and carrying around a backpack that has seen better days. She looks worn out. "Don't suppose you're headed my way?" 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' As August finishes with the pump, a girl approaches. One who takes in the light well, but is dressed in a poor state for a girl her age. This isn't a great area to be in, though, so it makes sense. August winces as he sees what she's wearing, and then considers as she asks him for a ride. His only destination would be back to the motel, and while his parents would be worried if he didn't return, /he/ knew he could handle himself. And there's no vehicles nearby, so she'd be waiting or walking for quite a while if he refused. At the same time, you're not supposed to trust strangers that easily...but he's an Elite. He didn't get this far not doing random acts of kindness. "Sure." August replies, closing the fuel hatch. Assuming she agrees (and he doesn't /seem/ like he's a horrible person, because he's not in this regard), August unlocks the front for her, before getting into the driver's seat. If she'd rather sit in the back, she can - he has no preference. "Where're you headed? I can't go too far, but I can give it a shot." He sounds older than he looks and really is. Old and weary. Someone's been through a lot. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "Looks like it's my lucky day, then." She grins, adjusting the way her backpack sits and moving around to the other side. Door opens; backpack meets floor; butt meets seat. She's unfolding a battered bit of map when he gets in. It looks reasonably local. "About half an hour west with wheels," she says, showing him. "I'm supposed to be meeting some people. Nobody with a car, though." She wrinkles her nose. She gives him a sidelong look. "You're not one of those guys who gets off on stabbing hitchhikers, are you? If I ask, you gotta tell me. It's a rule." 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' As the girl unfolds her map, August takes a look, and then nods. "I can do that." He shifts the car into gear, and then starts it. He doesn't start moving until she's asked her question, though. "Nah, I don't want to hurt anyone." He flashes a friendly smile. The 'anymore' is left off because that'd make him look even more creepy than he probably already does. Assuming that's a satisfying answer to her, he starts driving in her direction. "It's a little late to be hitchhiking, but I can understand it. I didn't start driving regularly until recently. I biked everywhere, or took a warpgate, or had a friend drive me. But you don't have the latter, and a warpgate would be useless in this situation, so..." Being able to mention warpgates, even in an 'Earth' setting, is very satisfying. "Will I be looking for any landmarks? This town's kind of a pit." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' She keeps giving him a long, long look. Eventually, she nods, then faces forward again. As an afterthought, she buckles up. "Alright. Cool. Then we're cool." The road is straight and empty. At this time of night, nobody else is out. The girl shrugs. "My bike got run over a coupla weeks ago, and I haven't known anybody since two or three gate-hops back. But this is pretty safe territory for us randos, right? People watchin' out for us, even if the assholes with the badges don't. S'why I figured you weren't an asshole," she asides, as if this were a grand secret. "Oh, yeah. Should be, uh..." She turns the map over. There's a scrawl on the back. "...a closed-down rest stop, with a log cabin-y thing on it. If I got my guess right. Riddles, you know?" She looks out the window, eyes distant. "But if I'm right... it'll be worth the effort." 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' As the girl buckles in, August is already buckled in, and starts driving. As she mentions that he's not an asshole and the badges, August just chuckles kind of darkly. "Yeah. I've never been too keen on 'the badges', myself, so I can understand where you're coming from." "A riddle, huh? Some sort of game?" August asks, as the girl explains the location. Sounds like a thing teenagers would do. After a bit of driving, he offers to turn on the radio and let her control it, if she'd like, though warns there won't be a good signal. Otherwise, he doesn't talk much - August isn't the very social type, especially with strangers. Eventually, if she's right on the directions, they should be in range of their landmark. He'll point it out when they see it, and when she says to pull over, he'll pull over. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "Fuck the po-lice," the girl all but intones. "Comin' straight from the underground." She slouches. "Not really. More like a... test. Keep out the wannabes, get the really smart ones. You know how it is with anything cool. Gotta prove you really want it, right?" It sounds half like she's trying to convince herself. They drive. She fiddles with the radio for ten minutes before finding a Salsa station broadcast primarily in orcish. The rhythm is good, though, and the voices are drowned out by the bad connection. It comes and goes as they move along down the long and lonesome stretch of highway. Eventually they come to the place. It looks like an old tourist board building, tucked back behind a partly overgrown parking lot. The lot itself is chained shut, though the jersey barrier is easily hoppable on foot. There are trees behind it, where firelight is vaguely visible and August can dimly see the shapes of dancing shadows. The girl looks out, swallows, then looks at him. She opens the door and hops out. "Thanks, guy. I'll, uh... be seeing you around." She hurries off into the night, towards the fire-signs, shoulders hunched and backpack clutched tight. A long breath passes. "So," asks Empty Tidings, a swath of feminine shadow sitting primly in the passenger seat that was, seconds ago, completely empty, "are you going to take care of this, or must I?" 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' "Yeah, I get you." August responds, laughing at her 'gangster' talk. Orcish salsa is...interesting. Eventually, they get to the end, and she moves to leave. "See ya." He doesn't expect to, but it's at least polite. And then there's someone else in his car. August's eyes widen, but he doesn't go on the defensive, because he recognizes the voice before he sees it, and this isn't outside her purview. Shit. He had forgotten. "Take care of this? Take care of what? They're just teenagers." August speaks, gritting his teeth. He doesn't pull away, though. "I'm not going to kill them, if that's what you're asking. I know you heard what I said over the radio. I'm done fighting, done killing. I can't do it anymore." "It's not good for me. I'm trying to be better, be happy." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Tidings becomes more 'real' the longer she sits. Her shadow turns three-dimensional, then bleeds away until it leaves... her. Flowery silks draped over an elegant figure; the scent of blossoms drifting on the night air. All pleasant things. All concealing something far, far worse. "They are putting themselves in thrall to a demon in exchange for magical power," Tidings explains. She's not looking at him. She's not looking at the fire, either. She's just staring straight out the windshield, into the distance. "Not my sort of demon, mind. A more locally classical, Judeo-Christian sort. Souls for goods. Well... not /initially/, but eventually." Her lip twitches. It's aiming towards mild disapproval. "I did. I assumed I had been hallucinating. Is this not precisely what you always wanted? To be the hero? To defeat the obvious evil?" 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August's eye twitches as Tidings becomes more solid and reveals that these kids are, in fact, devil worshippers. For what is likely a very real demon. "Shit, that girl just-" August stops himself. He doesn't know her. But she /seemed/ like all she wanted to be was cool and accepted. He thinks things through for a moment, and then replies to Tidings. "I did. That is what I wanted. But then everything collapsed before my eyes. We lost a Watchtower, and a repugnant man who I thought I wanted to be. It showed me I was going down a pit to Hell. And not the good kind of Hell, either." August places his hands against the wheel, frowning sharply. "I can't go kill a bunch of stupid teenagers. And I can't go slay the demon, either. I can't get back into that habit. He who fights with monsters..." He allows the sentence to complete itself. But he's still twitching. He wants to /help/ those kids, not kill them. But the girl and him shared the same sentiment. The police aren't going to do shit. And if he acted, he was just being a vigilante instead of moving for a better life, this time without teh support network. If Tidings acted...she'd make it the worst case possible. "What the hell do you want from me, Tidings?" 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "Eventually becomes one," Tidings finishes sharply. "Or maybe you prefer, 'Die a hero, or live to see yourself become the villain.' There are many, many turns of phrase of similar qualities all over the Multiverse. Pick one you like, I suppose. You have the comfort of choice," she says, voice chilly. August gets somewhat heated. He wants to jump in and save them, and doesn't like being put in a position like this. Tidings slowly turns her head, the black pits that are her eyes sweeping over August's face. Her left hand lifts, fingers touching his chin, and then turning him to look at her with a gentle tug -- unless, of course, he decides to petulantly resist. It might hurt a little, then. "I want what's best for you, August." Empty Tidings smiles. The expression does not match the pitiless darkness living in her gaze. "But forcing you to continue fighting, to grind yourself to nothing against this endless whetstone of agonies..." She closes her eyes. "Running away isn't at all like you. Maybe you do need some time to recouperate. There is nothing shameful in nursing your wounds and tending to your growing scars." She opens her eyes again. She looks human, now. There is very definite sadness there. Disappointment. "You did not even intend to say goodbye, did you?" Tidings releases him. "Running away will not release you from our pact. Distance will not break it." 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August doesn't pick one. As Tidings turns him to look at her, he doesn't resist. He looks into her pitch-black gaze, shaking him a bit, until her eyes close. A reminder she's not as human as he is. That she's something more. "I just want a normal life." He says, under his breath, but her keen ears will be able to pick it up. But, at last, she mentions the fact he didn't say goodbye, and there's a clear pang of guilt. As she releases him, he sighs. "You're right. It won't. And I'm not going to break it. You're going to call on me again, eventually." He wants out. It's clear. But he's not going to start his career of 'trying to be a better person' by becoming an oathbreaker. Pity that that means he'll need to be chained to a demon until he can summon the courage to break it. "And until then, I'm going to get a job. Find someone to love. Care for my family. Work hard. Innovate. I'm not going to be a sword slicing through evil. I'm not going to be a terrorist leader." He shifts the gear again, ready to start leaving. He's going to pull away unless she stops him. "I'm going to be August Kohler." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "Do you even know who that is?" Tidings is back to looking out the windshield, though without the sort of intensity that came with deliberately ignoring him last time. "August Kohler, the hot-headed student? You left him behind in Alberichstadt, ages ago. August Kohler, the Sword Against The Darkness? He stopped carrying an edge once one possible future passed in front of his face, scaring him off like a frightening Calibration mask waggled in front of a child." She rests the fingertips of her right hand against her cheek and chin, tilting her head a little. "August Kohler, the terrorist leader? Why, from what I hear on the grapevine, he's been broken by the Concord once and for all, his fires snuffed out." She pinches her fingertips together like she was snuffing a candle flame. Tidings looks back at him again. The car shifting into gear doesn't dislodge her from the passenger seat. "Tell me this, then, and tell me true, for if I smell a hint of a lie, I swear I will have your deceitful tongue." She points back at the firelight behind the building, the eerie shadows growing in height. "What would August Kohler do about that, were he here right now?" 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August stops as Tidings speaks once more. Her words sting like acid. Who the hell /is/ August Kohler? He's been so many people. And then, she threatens him. He grimaces, teeth grinding upon each other, but he doesn't say anything. Not until she asks the question. "He'd try and solve it. Permanently." August says, after a long moment of thought. That's who he was. He'd solve things permanently. But he can't do that. "But then perhaps I don't want to be that August Kohler. Perhaps I want to reclaim the name and change it. Either way...that's that. Whether you see it as quitting or recuperation, I'm done." August moves to start driving off. He's made his decision, despite his words. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "And what do /you/..." Empty Tidings speaks as he starts to pull away from the curb, voice softened. "...want to see done about it, Newer, Better August Kohler?" 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' "I want..." August takes a breath. His voice is still harsh, contrasting Tidings' soft. "To see those kids get some help. Maybe I'll send a tip out. Maybe it'll be worthless. But I can't do nothing. Even if I'm not going to pull that lever myself." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "That's right," she says. "You can't." Empty Tidings sighs deeply. "The things I do for you, August." She rolls her shoulders. August blinks, inevitably. After, she's dressed in a more modern and mundane way he's seen before: ribbed sweater, long skirt, glasses and an overall 'goth librarian' sort of look. "Consider your tip thusly given. My Watch is not yet over, and a kind citizen has begged, /begged/ that won't someone /please/ think of the children!" She puts the back of her hand to her forehead and feigns distress. "Here." She drops a shard of what looks like green glass into the center console cup holder. It glints a little weirdly in the artificial light inside the truck cab. "A time will come when we need each other again, August. By our sworn oath, I owe you nothing -- but it would make me feel better if, in this your peaceful interlude, you let me be certain you will be safe, wherever you go." She opens the passenger side door. Tidings smiles warmly. "Don't look back, August Kohler, One Good Man. See to your family. I'll see to all the rest." Tidings is gone. The door swings shut. A light on the dash blinks on, complaining to August that the passenger side door is not fully closed. In the rear view mirror, another figure in shadow strides towards the flickering firelight. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' As Tidings starts to act like she's going to actually help, August's eyes widen a bit, and then he just sighs. As she feigns distress, he's still anxious-looking, but less...angry. He glances to the green glass as it's put in the cup holder, and then nods. "Fine. Be safe yourself." And then, August nods. He watches her leave in the rear view mirror, and then, he continues to drive off. He doesn't look back, though he'll check the news later to see if anything happened. But Tidings wouldn't lie to him about it, he doesn't think. Another wrong person to put faith in, huh? Well, that's life. 
}}

6102/A Good Spook

2018-11-07T05:39:17Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/10/31 |Location=Solomon Island |Synopsis=A trip to retrieve some kind of 'Engine' turns out to be a whole different kind of trip. (TSW Hallowe..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/10/31
|Location=Solomon Island
|Synopsis=A trip to retrieve some kind of 'Engine' turns out to be a whole different kind of trip. (TSW Halloween '18)
|Cast of Characters=515, 6666, 525, 1108, 1159
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The pitch-dark seas churn. The creature rears its ugly head, the massive cephalopodal thing split in two and bleeding a tar-black substance that stains the ocean. The polluted waters slap against the hull of the fishing boat, your floating sanctuary tossed and turned and just barely keeping you from the fathomless depths on which you've found yourselves. The monster dies, and others take its place. Creatures like bloated human carcasses bristling with barnacles and hooked limbs formed from shells claw their way out of the deep. Their forelimbs punch holes in the boat, too numerous to be entirely cut down by interception fire pointed over the side. The ship rolls, a swell lifting the bow off the ocean -- ( "HOLD ONTO SOMETHING," Wuyin yells from the cabin, clutching the wheel ) The boat hits the water, a jarring experience for everyone aboard. Filthy sea-water sprays across the deck. It puddles immediately, six-inch spined tendrils sprouting immediately from coated surfaces. In the distance, a light shines through the Fog, a path leading dead ahead. In the same shroud of all-encompassing grey, black shapes like a building-sized sea-monster's limbs sway as trees in the wind. And come down. Pallid grey tentacles slap across the sea, threatening to snap the tiny ship in two before it will ever see land again. A voice echoes across the seas, over the storm-winds. It's male, reverbrating and disembodied, coming from everywhere at once. It sounds confident. Self-assured. "It's over. The Engine will be drowned alongside you." Belowdecks, the Engine -- an object of utmost import, the thing you have been fighting for what feels like days to protect, to bring back to the island and stop this madness -- begins to sink as the lower cabin fills with black, filthy water. 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' Kupot, due to his size, is easily tossed about on the deck. His gyroscopic implants allow him to easily shift with the weight of the boat, but he doesn't have as much mass to stay ON the boat. That's where the rope around his waist tied to the mast is. His job is top side. His cybernetics are cracked from the heavy journey. He has lost his hat and jacket, down to only shirt, pants, and boots. Next to the moogle is a heap of shelled monsters six feet tall. He adds another to it, but as usual, he must wait. He must wait for the monster to make the choice to attack HIM before the chisel point goes through its chest and he swings it backwards onto the pile of bodies. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Turns out, lightning is pretty great for killing things in the water--however, now that their boat is also filling with water, Inga must shift tactics, less she kill them all unpleasantly. And this is about the most unpleasant way to go. Anything involving this place is generally unpleasant. Inga throws several spears that have materialized from her blood into the creatures trying to get onto the boat before it lurches and she has to grab onto the side of the boat to try to stop from falling--which she does anyway, cursing loudly. The water that splashes onto the deck sprouts tentacles and she reaches for one of her many talismans. "Thor, protect us from this menace from the utgardar! Guide us to safety!" she cries, eyeing the writhing tentacles with wide eyes. Can she burn them without burning down their boat? Water is flooding the boat now, and the Engine is in peril. "We must mend the boat and bail out the water!" It's too late for them, in the long run. They'll all be infected. 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     A2 looks like shit, but she always does without some kind of generically obscuring cloak. The wear and tear and battle damage from the voyage are new threads added to the tapestry of hard abuse that is her frame, notable only for lack of any carbonized burns. A hoarse, increasingly exhausted "Hrrraaaa!!" tears itself from her throat as the gigantic Type-4O anti-goliath cleaves through the giant squid-creature from bottom to top, hit with a golf swing of an uppercut and split apart as much by the blade as it is the waves of cutting force that follows it.     Buzzing 'pixels' of white light swarm around A2, coalescing to glowing grid-lines that show through her damaged portions, fighting a losing battle to gradually piece her back together from the raw material released by dead monsters. The giant sword spirals around her, guided by her hands only in gesture, wheeling in massive arcs and circles that trace bloody paths through the hordes as graceful as they are brutal. The smaller sword forms out of gold particles as she turns, hurled away with a thrust of her palm, spinning like a buzzsaw through a handful of shambling dead, and then yanked back with a clenched fist on invisible strings, diving close to the floor and scything through the sprouting tendrils. One sinks its spikes into her leg, so she stomps on it with an angry huff, grinding it under her heel.     "Fuck off!" she cries out to the sky, tossing aside a wet curtain of silvery hair from her eyes, with fingers that are are worn, glossy carbon sheen rather than skin. She staggers as the ship heaves, then rights herself abruptly, sliding towards the railing, then kicking off from it at a forty-five degree angle and jumping off a draugr's skull, crushing its brains to jump back aboard. "Fine! Go do that then!" she yells to Inga above the wind and the rain and the storm. "It's not like I can bail out now! You think I float?!" A furious backhand blows a shambler's head off its shoulders. "Why the hell did we even do this?! Shit, I'd kill someone for a flight unit right now!" 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      The Valkyrie suit, doing what it does best, has done very well for keeping Mercy comfortable during the storm. Her staff, and the array of taser guns and such that she uses have also made good work of tentacles. (Why is it always tentacles?)      Realizing that the ship is sinking, Mercy holsters her quarterstaff, and activates the wings she uses. She then takes off into the air, floating there casually as she unholsters her quarterstaff, flitting left and right through the air to handle the tentacles that pop out.      "So anyone got an idea for hauling the Engine?" She asks, well aware of the fact some people might not be able to fly. To be frank, with how Mercy is listing to the left, she should probably not have her pilot's license at the moment, either. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Kupot's retaliatory skewering of draug and other sea-monsters keeps the deck clear of anything huge until the swarming begins. He feels cold hands slip under his guard and clutch at his legs. The ones getting near are withered, covered in a carpet of organic armor, but strong enough to squeeze and slowly crush. Inga has a similar problem: sheer numbers, beginning to creep past the lack of arcing lightning that has kept them at bay so long. The wards are giving out. The markings carved into the sides of the ship are being attacked, too. The creatures flense themselves on one other and fill them with their polluted flesh. The boat begins to list to port, and Wuyin struggles to right it, then overcompensates inexpertly to try to avoid one of the descending tentacles. A2 catches it blade-first, while Mercy has the reach to back her up and swat at the things on the deck. But one rises from the deep. It crashes down on the cabin, crushing the rooftop. Wuyin ducks as glass and metal splinter and bow. The ship stops, and an awful cracking sound follows as it gets snapped in twain. It sinks. The warm, golden glow of the Engine belowdecks comes through the cracks. The blackness cannot seem to touch it. It brightens to blinding intensity. You blink, near the end. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "A Gaia Engine," Wuyin is explaining, "is..." He trails off for a second, uncertain. He's standing at a blackboard on the upper level of the Kingsmouth Volunteer Fire Department. The board is covered in chalk-drawn notes, with a sketch of the island's shape in white, a dotted line marked 'FOG' all around it. There's a yellow 'X' offshore with another line indicating distance with a bunch of question marks around it. There's a piece of chalk in one hand, held as if he was about to write something when he abruptly stopped. Wuyin shakes it off. "As far as I am able to determine, it's a way to fight the Filth," he continues. "Some massively ancient artifact, able to cleanse a place of infection. And the Orochi Group found one." He writes something next to the yellow 'X,' 'POLARIS,' and circles it twice. "They were moving it. It's been right there the whole time --" He gestures out a window. Raindrops taps against the glass pane. The pitter-patter of the storm against the pavement does not reach the interior of the building, despite the otherwise near-complete silence. "-- and we had no idea. Until now." "So." Wuyin nudges his 3D glasses higher on his nose, then folds his hands. "We go out into the harbor and take a boat. We'll use Inga's wards and our combined anima to keep ourselves safe, get the Engine, bring it back here, and then finally clean this island up. Riva's already going across town to start the lighthouse back up for us so we'll have a guiding light to get us all back." Wuyin looks at the small group gathered at the tables. "Any questions?" 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' Kupot heaves his breath, drawing out his second blade, his wakazashi. Even as the ship begins to drop, he is swinging his sword, cleaving away two hands from his body. Then swinging again. Another two hands grab him from behind, and Kupot struggles to stab behind him. Another two arms. Another. Another. The blinding light is drowned out by corrupted flesh. -------- Kupot tilts his head briefly as he looks at the blackboard. "I do not know any of those organizations, kupo. I think I understand the problem, however. What kupo will we face?" He is dressed as normal, though his hat is on top of the old school desk he is sitting at, his cyhbernetic eyes flickering green as they take in the board and record it for later. He sips from a can of Bingo Cola. "Both as guards for the kupo and on our way back to the island." 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, what the hell-" A2 suddenly stops, as if two things came to mind to ask 'what the hell' about, but she'd instantly forgotten one. She shakes her head, messy silver hair falling in front of one eye. "What the hell does this thing look like? How big is it? Why do we need a boat for this?" She sounds irritable. She always does, but this time for no real reason. "And then what do we even do with it? This sounds like bullshit. And what the hell is Anima anyways? This sounds real damn complicated for 'pick up the thing then bring it here'." 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      Mercy keeps attempting to swat at the tentacles - she can do so. But then one crashes down, and then the ship cracks in half. "Verdammt!" She swears, diving down into that bright, bright--      she blinks ------------------------      "So the creatures from the ... Filth-" Mercy's Swiss accent sounds weirdly amused for a couple of a seconds- "They might know what it is, then? There's no way that we're not going to get noticed across this whole trip. If they know what it is, especially, we're going to be in a world of hell, aren't we?"      "There's no way it's going to be that easy, not unless you've - Inga, was it, sorry dear- got a hell of a concealment ... ward? Like the wards that people use against occult, I'm... guessing?" Mercy practically does magical medical science, she doesn't quite get this but that doesn't stop her from realizing what's going on. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "I'll try to mend the wards!" she says, hobbling to the side of the boat to use her blood magic once more to strengthen the wards she'd placed on the boat-- but the carvings are damaged, and the terrible water just washes away her efforts. It's going down. They failed. Again. ___________________ Inga is seated in a folding chair, a femur across her lap, upon which she is carving a number of runes. This is likely to make repairs to the bone-fence outside that is the only reason this was a safe haven on the island from the draug and hungry undead. She's dressed uanpologetically in clothes not even remotely modern, her long white hair braided loosely down her back. Every now and then she takes her dagger and slices into her arm, adding blood to the runes she's carving. "Mmm...wards for a boat. Yes, get me a boat and I can work on that," she replies to Wuyin. To A2, she sighs. "Everything is complicated in this place. Anima is what we call out magic--it is life energy, granted to us by the goddess often called Gaia," she explains, then looks to Mercy, nodding. "Wards I can do, yes. I'll need a bit of time beforehand to make them strong enough. Water will complicate things further," she says, reaching down to squeeze a bit of water from her dress. She looks out the window a moment. Will it ever stop raining? She's soaked to the bone. Suddenly, she frowns, listening. She can see the rain--water beading on the glass windows, blurring the outside world. But she can't hear the rain. It's completely silent. Had it been silent when she arrived here? When, and how did she get here? Her frown deepens. "I don't recall how I came to be here." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Wuyin stares at Kupot for a couple seconds while he processes kupos. "There are unnumbered monsters in the shallows at least out to the drop off the continental shelf," he explains, "and the Fog itself seems impervious to any attempts at remote observation into or beyond it. The ship itself will likely be full of the former crew. Walking dead; men turned into Draug." He shrugs. "Sharp blades will deal with the problems that warding cannot." He turns to A2, nodding slightly at Inga. "Then... well, then we keep it safe behind the wards while we figure out how to operate it. It's technology that is older than the Age we live in -- older than civilization as we know it. Older than old. I'll be surprised if it has an 'on' switch, but I trust that we'll be able to figure it out. We have to, if we want to end all of this." Wuyin frowns faintly. Another nod. "Right. The Filth... we don't know what it is, exactly. A disease. It infects the mind and twists the body. It bubbles up from the ground in places, and seems connected to the Fog somehow. It creates monsters. Inga and I are both something like antibodies for this world's immune system, and when we expunge things made by the Filth, it inevitably draws trouble from the rest of it. We..." He looks at Inga. Even with his usually hard-to-read expression, it's clear he's kind of quizzical about it. "You were here when I arrived. Working on the fence. I... think." He stops talking. The silence is oppressive. Water continues to splash against the windows as raindrops strike glass. 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     "So it's a god damned logic virus. Great." says A2, sound even *less* enthused than before. She's spent the entire time leaning against a wall like a pissed off college student, barely looking at the blackboard instead of the window. "Good a reason as any to *kill it*. If you don't even know how to turn this Engine thing on though, how are you even planning to use it? How do you even know it does what you think it does?"     The Attacker model keeps grilling Wuyin right up until Inga claims a memory lapse. A2's eyes visibly darken, the corners of her mouth twitching. It's not exactly common for her memory files to hiccup, so she hadn't thought much of it, but the flesh and blood human is saying it too.     "If cutting them to pieces works, then all we're waiting on are those defensive installations. Hurry up with it." she sighs, stalking towards the door. "Not like there's much to plan if we don't know anything about anything." She opens it up, going out into the rain. 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' Kupot bobs his head. "I have fought the walking dead before. I can kupo that." He finishes the can and slides his straw hat on as A2 makes to leave. "I will prepare as well." He has to bring the can up to the trash can, however, to throw it away. Keep your city clean and all that. He is following behind A2 when Inga speaks, causing Kupot to turn his head towards her and frown. The moogle reaches his finger up to his temple. It's not actually NECESSARY to do this, it's just something he does to communicate to everyone around him he's using his HUD's internals to look up something. It has a small storage, it can't store more than a few minutes of video or quite a bit of text data. His frown deepens. "Something is wrong with my kupo clock." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "Because magic bees tell us things," Wuyin tells A2 unhelpfully, "and sometimes, those things are even helpful." A2 opens the door. It leads to an exterior staircase that runs along the back of the building to the ground. The firehouse is on the edge of a glacier that should not be there. A four-foot ledge descends like a cut down the side, with a wall of ice on the right and a sheer drop into open space on the left. The stars rest where ground should be at the bottom of the glacier, twinkling with alien light. The rain falls upwards from space far below. There is nothing holding this glacier to anything. There is nothing above you but vast darkness. There is a sensation like you are being watched. The sky feels too low to be anything close to natural, but it's hard to say exactly what's wrong with it at a glance. In the distance, fragments of shattered landscape floats, set adrift to roll in some immense orbit. There are pieces of an old Colonial-era town. There are ships that should be at sea. There is Kingsmouth itself, stretching out into open space further down the glacier, clipping into the ice. 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      Recall how... Mercy starts and turns to stare at Inga, the medical doctor's face frowning slightly. She isn't aware of how old Inga actually is, but - she herself knows that memories are not perfect things, but there's something to Inga's frown that makes her own worse. Wuyin thinks...?      Oh dear.      Mercy abruptly stands, glancing out the windows. "It's too quiet." She says, her voice absurdly quiet. "There's some shenanigans going on here, and that's not a good thing, considering we haven't even gotten on the boat yet. Anyways, uh, before we get going, I--"      "Wait, don't open the d--"      too late 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      "I told you not to open the door." Mercy says, peering behind A2 and out into ...      That. There is that. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga places the femur down and picks up her walking stick, a long oak staff also carved with runes, a bit of leather wrapped around the top to make it comfortable to hold. Incongruously, there's a rubber tip on the end, as one might find on a modern day cane. Leaning on this, she hauls herself to her feet and follows the others toward the stairs. She still wears a frown, but even as she takes in her surroundings, she doesn't look as alarmed as one might generally be in such strange circumstances. "Well, that's different," she says. "Perhaps I am dreaming," she muses. Inga turns toward Mercy, reaching a hand toward her. "May I test something?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' Kupot turns his head back towards the door, stopping in place as he watches the door open. The tension in the area solidifies in a solid jagged block that holds Kupot still. Outside is... What. FOr one, rather than Kupot being ready to leap, slash, and move headlong into danger, he moves slowly, tentatively, towards the door, his head turning downward towards the stars, upward, around, gazing back and forth at every strange piece of this dreamscape. It cannot be cut, it cannot be parried, it can not be defended against. It's... Shakingly, barely able to keep his mind up, Kupot switches through the various spectrums. He doesn't have many, just the Metroid Prime suite. 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah, you said a bunch of other words I didn't listen to either." retorts A2, not having this. "Or are you trying to tell me you completely and totally expected this exact thing, right?" She just huffs at Inga. "If you are, then don't drag me into it. This is weird as hell. And I don't do dreams."     While she is looking around, A2's poor tactical mapping suite is struggling to try and come up with any coherent shape of the area. Pixely, low-resolution 3d imaging of the iceberg and firehouse, at the very least, should model out fine, along with any notable power sources or contextual 'interaction points'. She sizes up the other chunks of landscape, but they're way too far for her mobility systems. Instead she looks downwards, to check for anything floating around that she may be able to jump lower to. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Looking upward finds the problem with the sky: there isn't one. It's a vast, yawning emptiness. Eyes try to refocus on something -- anything -- but they can't. It starts a stress headache in the humans and makes electronic systems that mimic them need to be shifted into something like a manual control just long enough to stop it from looking at the void. It is a lack, a space where there should be... something. Air. Stars. Anything. Looking into other spectrums has a different result. It's jumbled and garbled, but it looks like there's a boundary to all of this. In the vast distance, there is something that reflects all of everything back inward. The vast emptiness above is the only place it doesn't. It's always there, and always empty. Always. Always. A2's systems can give her a terrain map of the glacier, which seems to have threads of some kind of power lines running through it, towards a point beneath it. She finds floating chunks of terrain to leap down to to try and see it. There is a narrow path parallel to it, but it's longer and slower and by no means safer. Descending towards the starry sky eventually drops her into open space as her foot touches what detected as a solid object and what actually comes apart upon contact. It's an ancient ship's hull being exploded by cannonfire, frozen in space until disturbed by her. She falls through the gap it made Blink. She lands on a factory floor. The walls are curved and dull grey metal. Electronic illumination from somewhere on the walls makes it look more like firelight than anything. Shapes in various states of disrepair, damaged by time, weather or battle, are scattered across the floor. It looks like a charnel house, but nothing is rotting. Nothing here is living enough to rot. Something descends from the darkness above. It bears multiplicitous eyes and barely-visible edges of sharp, gleaming metal. "ATTACKER MODEL," it drones, voice low and buzzing. "SUBMIT FOR RECONDITIONING OR DECOMMISSIONING." All the bodies are her. 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' "I... kupo." Kupot thinks about what he can do to explain this situation. He's been in battle situations for years straight. Just constantly working on problems, trying to garner allies, trying to defeat demons. Constantly on the move, constantly in danger. He has not had a moment of mind blowing wonder for a long time. A time where he can't simply attack, he can't analyze, he can't use his skills to overcome. There is nothing to overcome here. It is an finite field of... something. He staggers forward. Once. Twice. Then he is on a factory floor. There is a huge thing being threatening above him. He nods once. Alright, he is on level ground again. He hovers his hand over his katana. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head at A2. "No, I did not expect this exact thing. It doesn't work that way. This is all...uncanny," she replies. "I would say if it were too weird for you you should not have volunteered to come. However, I'm not sure you did volunteer to come," she offers with a shrug. When A2 jumps down to a floating piece of landscape beneath them, Inga chews the inside of her lip but makes to follow. "We should stay together at least," she offers, then jumps off the glacier to follow A2, glad that while she can't fly, she at least seems to always fall in such a way that it isn't lethal to her. Yay? Inga lands softly behind A2, eyes quickly scanning their new surroundings. "This is..." she doesn't have the words. It hasn't escaped her attention that all the bodies look like A2. She can't imagine how disturbing that must be to see. When something descends from the ceiling above, Inga's staff lights up with an electric blue light, the air around her buzzing with energy as she prepares to summon a bolt of lightning. 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      Mercy follows everyone outside.      This is a bad idea. She's sure of it!      But... still...      "Whatever it is you want to try, Inga, you can go for it." Says the doctor, floating down after everyone else. Yay for the Valkyrie suit. 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     A2 heads for that power source, because A2 does not stand around for any reason if she can help it. Her modus operandi -her entire life- is relentless forward motion. Even without any direction at all. Even if it's limping or dragging her feet. Standing still and wondering is pointless. She keeps moving, or else she starts thinking.     And the only thing worse than the thinking is the remembering.     She moves on without really knowing what she's moving towards, having no idea what she expects to find, except 'something more productive than sitting around in a firehouse being creeped out'. She lands, her heels cracks through the surface, there is a brief lurch of vertigo and disorientation as she crashes through, and then even worse when her sensors have to rapidly adjust to a completely different space, the error checking and scrubbing of her entire mental map physically nauseating. She looks wobbly when she gets to her feet, looking up to visually confirm her surroundings.     Then she looks back down again. Her hand claps to her face, fingertips curling into her hair, grinding her palm against her eyes as she tries to steady herself. Her breathing is so irregular that a human being would pass out from hyperventilation, but her core temperature keeps rising. It rises until sparks of scarlet electricity crackle from her exposed seams, discharging swirling embers of red maso into the air. There is a sharp, startlingly loud, metallic crunch, as the Type-4O buzzes into existence in her hand, and is slammed a foot deep into the factory floor. A2 looks up between her fingers, ruby light flashing in her one visible eye.     \\"Make me."\\ 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "DISOBEDIENCE REGISTERED IN ATTACKER," the machine buzzes. The glinting edges unfurl into a multi-armed array of blades and stabbing implements. "THIS FAULT WILL BE CORRECTED." The battle is short but intense. You can all feel it, despite it seeming like it all happened too fast to track. A combination of reactive iaijutsu, brutal orbital attacks and lightning bolts meet the ever-unfurling machine, the mass of scything weaponry constantly finding more to slash away with until it's finally ended. It's a challenge for a skilled combatant, certainly, but not for four. Comparatively, the battle is over in a blink with A2 standing victorious over the body of the Attacker that wouldn't stand down. The Type-40 has struck her through. The array of small, scything blades it was manipulating are scattered across the humming factory floor, struck in solid objects or cloven by the blades turned against their wielder. Her double looks up at her with a faltering red eye, hate writ across her face. She tries to move an arm to strike A2, but something vital is severed. She dies looking for all the world like all she knew was hate. "You don't have to be this," the voice from the sea says. A black shape backlit by bright white hovers at the edge of sight, distant, across the factory floor. "You can be anything you want to be. I can help you." He extends his hands. "We can help one another. Can't we? May I?" The world swims as he starts to cross it. Solid ground runs like wet paint being sluiced into a drain. It loses all definition and he seems to loom larger rather than getting closer. Everything stutters unsteadily. There are no windows, but there are holes in the walls. The gashes in the metal grow wider and flimsier as the surrounding material stops thinking of itself as solid. Darkness beckons outside. 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' That moment is gone. Bled into helping fight. The ease of knowing what's going on. For the moment, defense is all that is needed. Then the world begins to fall apart once again. But instead of being... astonishing, the world is simply unfolding, breaking apart. The art of Iaijutsu. It is one of fighting, yes, but for Kupot, it is the mere concept of defense. Refusing to fight until fighting is truly inevitable. Refusing to kill unless absolutely forced to his limit. But the universe did not gift Kupot a singular talent. It also gifted him the Legenia. Meteor Strike. A crystal of condensed magic and spirit of heroes long past. "No." He flashes forward, trying to simply utilize the magic itself to allow him to cross the distance. To grab the shape. And to flip them both backwards into the ground. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Mercy for a quick moment, "No time now, but I may know what this is!" she says as they battle against A2's double. It's all over in a flash, dreamlike. The voice that spaeks from the far side of the factory floor is all to familiar. Inga shudders, memories assaulting her more painfully than anything else they have encountered so far. She knows this voice, from a box of memories under a bed... "Run. Don't listen to it. Do NOT let it in," she warns. Inga turns toward the walls, dissolving into black. She bites her lip, then slips into one of them, out into the darkness. 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''           The world comes together in a moment of quantification, where all there is nothing to do but to fight and protect the new friends. But it's over in a blink, and it makes Mercy stare for a second, before the world splits apart again. Her stare really says it all: it's the effect of saying 'what the fuck', without the ability to actually say it. Finally, she focuses, glancing over at Inga.      "Okay, then what is goi--" A pause, blink. "Where are you going, what are all of you, five? I don't believe in using the child leashes, but I have before and I will." Mercy's exasperated noises continue as she goes to follow Inga. 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     Again, it takes a second for A2 to even recognize what's going on. Every jarring shift in the substance of reality is another set of integrity checks, most of which don't even work anymore, trying to verify that what she's seeing is real or whether her core memory has degraded to the point of insanity. It's awful. Disorienting. Sickening.     She releases her sword in shock and nausea from seeing her dead double, more from the impossibility of it than genuine horror. She kicks it away, refusing to look at it, refusing to think any more about what it is to be an Android --to have memories so easily edited and replaced --to have an entire identity, personality, soul, all in so many files that can be copied and deleted at whim. No thinking about it. No thinking about YoRHa. No thinking about what they *did* to them. Where they might be now. *Who* they might be now. If they even still exist.     She wheels and punches the nearest wall hard enough to put her fist all the way through the metal and up to the wrist. "I said shut the hell *up*! I don't want to *be* anything! I never *was* anything! I don't want your help, or to be friends, or your god damned opinion, and I don't want anyone else's either! The only ones that ever mattered are gone now, so I couldn't give a rat's ass what you want, and you can't give me what I want, because I don't give a rat's ass about *me*! Get down here so I can *kill you* you condescending piece of shit!" 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "Friendship?" the figure echoes terribly. "Friendship." He, it, says the word like it was being tasted. "No. I think not friendship. A gift. I wish to give you a gift. I wish for your consideration in the future." Inga jumps, and Mercy follows suit. They evade the horrible thing and what it means to someone like Inga by flinging themselves into the comforting void. For a second, it /is/ comforting: they're suspended in nothing, with nowhere to go, and no sensation of falling to speak of. They just drifts away from the floating factory, which they can see dissolving from the outside. Kupot chooses the Moogle's way out. The magic of the crystal propels him across the vast space of rapidly-dwindling coherence. It keeps him from losing himself on the way towards the shape. It makes it reasonably-sized when he gets there. He catches hold, and it's like holding an oil slick given human shape and mass. He lifts it, and it's like hefting a train-sized tube of sluicing fluids. Still Kupot swings it around, and the entity blinks and you all fall again, drifting slowly downwards. The ocean around you is lit by flashes of fire above the surface, gleaming off of mail and helm. Bodies plunge into the waves, clad in archaic armor and clutching weapons of dull steel. It's maybe eight or nine feet deep here, and the bottom is visible in the reddish light shining from above, sloping upwards towards the shore. Kupot hits the ground with the shadowy figure and craters the beach. The figure is upside-down, and then, abruptly, right-side up. He's still got hold of it. Looking at it is like looking into that emptiness that was in the sky, but with the pressure of something always looking back at you. Into you. Under your skin. Behind your eyes. Examining the ticking gears that make you, 'you.' Above, the sun burns a terrible red. A ring of solar fire burns around the edges of a solar eclipse. It casts its light down on the battle raging on the beach and up the shore: pale men wielding steel and shouting cries to the Aesir fight against obsidian-armed, feather-dressed, blood-streaked figures with skin like charred wood. Natives fight alongside the Viking warriors, channeling flares of green and honey-yellow energy from behind the constantly-shifting tide of bodies, striking down enormous insects that reinforce the obsidian-armed southerners. Further inland, up the cliffs... White light, encircled by encroaching black. A sense of purity, lifted to the sky, being smothered by something foul. "Why do you struggle when you are offered succor," the silhouette asks Kupot, sounding genuinely puzzled. He grows cold. Terribly, terribly cold. It turns liquid and seems to crawl up Kupot's arms in the form of an oily black substance. "Consideration, and there is violence." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Suddenly finding herself plunged into the cold, salty sea, Inga holds her breath and fights toward the surface, tangled in her skirts and trying not to lose her walking stick in the process. She gasps when her face finds the surface, gulping air into her lungs as she struggles toward the shore, wild eyes taking in the sights around her. It is incredibly, unsettlingly familiar. She recognizes the look of the warriors, their armor and blades. The battle itself is unfamiliar, at least until she sees the other warriors that fight alongside her people. She crawls to the shore, soaked and sputtering. "I know what this is," she says, on hands and knees in the sand. "Don't let it touch you!" she yells to Kupot, watching his struggle. He'll be infected for sure. She'll need to get it out of him...if she even can. Inga hopes Mercy is still with her, and would ask for help getting to her feet again if she's near. Inga points toward the light upon the cliffs. "That's where we need to go! Can you help me get there?" she asks, frantic. She doesn't know how they came to be here, or what is happening...but going through time isn't exactly unheard of to her. Even if it isn't strictly real, she could still learn something that could help them. 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' Kupot's mind swims as his optics struggle to stay on top of the situation, rapidly adjusting balance, temperature. His optics focus again on the figure. Then, Kupot just sort of flips around WITH the black figure. Which is REALLY weird. "I know enough about your kupo." Kupot sees MORE enemies around him. Doomtrain's hoary smokestack. It's crawling up him. On him. Kupot's composure against MEN is absolute. The moogle is a solid machine of death and violence, unflinching and untiring. He has to work to calm his breathing and slow it back down, calm his heart. "You give fluid oblivion. Sameness. Death of the kupo is still death." Slowly, Kupot strains against the fluid, reaching back down for his katana. The possibility he will have to kill himself with it after this rises in the made of his mind. 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      They drift. It's - comforting, almost. However, then there's a slow wait, and Mercy finds herself in the sea. It's cold - so very cold. Mercy surfaces with a gasp, her own staff behind her that she flails for as they make it to shallower water. She uses it to get to her feet, staring in bewilderment. Nothing here makes sense.      (Not that anything so far has made sense.)      "Then what is it?" Mercy demands of Inga, frowning faintly, at least until she sees Inga struggling to her feet, gliding over to her and helping the filth-fighter to her feet. The question, the request for help. Mercy smiles.      "Yeah. Hold onto my arm, okay?" Behind her, the Valkyrie Suit's wings flare to life, and Mercy takes off at a decent clip, helping Inga along with the extra boost from the wings, making sure not to trip the other woman. That'd be a terrible way to help. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Flying works... mostly. Getting into the air puts Mercy and Inga above the worst of the battle, letting them look down on the native Wabanaki and the foreign Norse warriors fight a vicious melee against the invaders. Thrown weapons get hurled through the sky at the airborne figures, but the attackers get bowled over by Vikings on the ground shouting about valkyries and Valhalla for reasons that ought to be terribly apparent. Also, from up there, it's pretty clear that the Norsemen are /kicking ass/. It turns out obsidian and animal hides don't mean much against a berserker swinging well-forged steel. "Mayans, if I don't miss my guess," Wuyin remarks to no one in particular, standing in the shallows, a jian of bright steel and delicate gold held in his hand and bristling with potential energy. He's facing off with the insects, large enough to bowl a man over and fast enough to do it, striking at them with the kind of precision sword-strokes that speaks of lots of experience killing these exact things. "Is this Solomon Island? When are we? Why are they --?" He's interrupted by a sudden rush from one of the bugs. He vaults over it and stabs it from above in response. "I can make you whole. I can make you immortal. I can make you understood. I can make you understand." The thing clutching Kupot isn't holding him tight, per se, but it feels like he's struggling against glacial ice. He can reach his weapons; the thing isn't moving, it's just... all-encompassing. He's stuck in a tide. A tar pit, maybe. His extremities feel tingly, like cold numbness suddenly giving way to pins and needles of heat. It isn't pleasant. "They are all still alive, you know," it whispers. "All the dead that this place has given to its prison. Don't you want them back?" The top of the cliff is a bit more dire than the beach. The battle is between a small group of Viking warriors defending what looks like native shamans with their backs to the flames. One of the fair-haired warriors wields a weapon of incredible design: a sword, it seems, but with a round grey cylinder outlined in yellow-orange instead of a guard, with a blade of strange black metal divided by a darker indentation filled with flickering lights that run vertically like streaks of yellow starlight. It's the source of the light, and it cleaves the encroaching shapes in the deepest darkness as they close in from every side, slowly and inexorably eating away at the firelight. Red eyes glow in the dark, showing where figures seem to stand, nearly invisible. The shadows lash out at Inga and Mercy as they ascend. Bestial claws extrude from the pitch blackness, sharp as knives and dripping blood and worse. They don't seem to care that they're airborne. They want to change that. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "It's the island...where we were before. But this is the past. People from almost my time, in the same part of the world...they came here and together with the native people fought together against an invasion. This is that moment. I need to know what happens up there!" she says, taking Mercy's arm, grateful for her assistance--and her wings. Inga clings to Mercy as they fly, watching everything with rapt attention, trying to take it all in, hammer it into her memory. If this is nothing but a vision, she wants to be sure to remember it. "There! Land us--" she says, seeing the smaller group of fierce norse warriors protecting the shamans. She sees the sword, the source of the light. She sees the way it cuts through the darkness. But soon the darkness is coming for them, too. Inga reaches for her knife, but finds that it is missing. She brings her wrist to her mouth and bites, ripping her flesh open to get at her blood so that she can use it to ward herself and Mercy both. A cloud of shimmering crimson surrounds them, the power of her anima forming a protective barrier. "We must help them!" she cries, readying another blood ward, this one targeting the warrior wielding the remarkable sword. 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' "Oblivion is still oblivion. I kupo things for the living." He realizes it's kind of a hard thing to argue, because there is that ideal that maybe everything being nirvana wwould be great? He's read that somewhere before. At least, it is on the verge of Kupot's mind that oblivion, a mindless but thinking oblivion, is... well, it's not the WORST thing that could possibly happen. He can see why people, in their woes, might submit to this. It would be a freedom from pain, joining all those who you have left. "People choose. You want to force them. That alone is kupo." Then the katana moves. It's at his side and then above his left shoulder, all in the span of an infinitismal moment, cleaving through the ooze. His eyes, which give nothing away, thanks to the optics, glance towards Inga and Mercy. They are headed towards the cliff, and likely the source of the purity. Is the engine here? Very well. Kupot is the distraction. He cleaves again, swinging his katana out at the figure. Then again. And again. And again, as feels the pain, the cold setting in bone deep. 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      Mercy is the guardian angel of her world. Makes it fit that she can fly, right? The Vikings on the ground get a somewhat vicious grin from Mercy, even as she shifts her weight, her accent ringing as she shouts, "NOT TIL VALHALLA, MY FRIENDS!" This is appropriate Tracer-like. Then again...      "So we're back at... Solomon Island, but we're-- time spaced? Is that why things seemed to be going so weird?"      The top of the cliff. They get there: They get there, Mercy things, in not enough time, even as the shadows lash out at them. However, Mercy is-- diving in, her wings flared out the most range they can get as she goes in steep, one hand keeping Inga to her, the other one flailing with her golden, glittery Cadaceus Staff.      It's not a easy landing, but on the ground is easier to handle than off of it, especially when one person is flying too.      "Miss Inga, move- do whatever it is you need done!" 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     The Filth's retreat from its focus on A2 is a welcome relief, in as far as A2 can welcome anything or process any feelings even adjacent to relief at this point. A drip through the liquid abyss that is this malleable hellscape of a theatre of mind is nothing compared to the discord put into her head, to the point that being dumped on the shores of a scene of blood and chaos fit for some bizarre before-there-was-time native creation mythos is almost soothing. Steel. War. Dying. She knows those sounds.     A2 gets to her knees first, planting her sword into the sand to pull herself to her feet from there, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm, as if expecting it to scrub the previous sights from her local memory. "You're *surprised* we're fucked in spacetime?" she growls. "Like this is new to you? What the *hell* did you think was happening *so far*? You were dreaming or something?" It's the best she can manage given the circumstances, aside from cutting down every enemy within twenty feet of her; that much is a reflex, something she does as automatically as breathing.     "So *fix it*!" she demands, a further level of hoarseness creeping into her voice, having gone past her normal state of being done with everything and being *really* done with this, prioritizing it being over more than anything else. Wading her way through the press of bodies, she cuts her way up to the campfire, walking into the seething shadows with a blast of crackling red light from her body, plunging her form into deep shadow even in the face of the campfire, but casting a scarlet glow into her surroundings from her skin and eyes, physically deleterious to anything near her. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Kupot cuts. And cuts. And cuts. "People are... tiresome," it says between strokes. "Insignificant. You can be more. All of you." The man-shaped mass comes apart. It topples like slabs of meat, sluicing apart and splattering across the ground as it loses cohesion and solidity. It becomes a stain on the beach, a pool of deep emptiness. It overwrites the sea and the sand like a bad computer-aided image edit. The rest simply ends where it begins. "All of you." The hole in the beach yawns like a pit, gaining depth. Instead of overwriting it, it swallows up the surrounding terrain. The ocean seems to start draining into it, falling into fathomless depths. Sand pours, and the beach gains a noticeable slant, tilting and running into the irregularly-shaped gash in the terrain. "All. Of. You." Combatants, living and dead, tumble into the gap. They vanish into a shroud of grey mist somewhere in its depths. Wuyin slides, scrambling away from it and struggling to keep his footing on the treacherous ground. Kupot is right near the edge, and with his chilled body, it'll take some work to keep from going over the precipice. Unless... maybe... falling in isn't such a terrible fate...? The fighting at the top of the cliff continues unabated. The support from Mercy and Inga keeps the besieged warriors up, though the endless supply of shadowy creatures -- largely in the shape of terrible, too-large, ink-black hounds and more of those awful bloodsucking insects -- makes it like getting a breath of air while still stranded at sea: a kind gesture, but one that seems to be delaying the inevitable. The black sword that spews bright light summarily annihilates anything it touches, the steel weapons the man's brothers-in-arms brandish slowing things down so that he can finish them. They've fallen into a rhythm, but it's still a backpedaling one. A2 shows up and changes the beat. Becoming a mobile locus of death-dealing is exactly what is necessary, especially one unafraid to step into the dark. It's ungodly cold, but the ground is solid up there, unlike on the rapidly-collapsing shoreline. Finding targets is a problem, but they manifest as they attack her, giving her mere seconds to react and strike them down. Not a problem. At one point she passes something that isn't a shadow-beast at all, and her casual slaughter of it makes that side of the encircling dark lessen, turning the pitch darkness into a simple absence of light. Some kind of mystic was holding it up, and she cut him down and put a stop to it. The one with the artifact sword notices. He turns and looks, and turns a slash of the thing on the nearest set of red-tinted eyes in the dark. There's a blast shadow left behind, a flash of white that leaves after-images of what was a skeletally thin figure in the dark and is now little more than dust. The firelight seems to expand. The Wabanaki shamans are chanting. Energy is pulled from the Earth like it was being drawn from a spring. Actual water follows. Anima flows, making the bubbling waters something pure and wonderful. The horrible redness of the sky seems to react, the light flickering unsteadily as whatever magic they bring to bear unsteadies the Mayan sorceries. The cliff drops away as the ground beneath it is swallowed by the lengthening gap on the beach. A crack opens, running towards the fire and water. A Viking warrior goes tumbling away as his footing ceases to exist. "They did this," the voice seethes, perfectly audibly. "The arrogant little creatures did this. They are why your people suffer. They are why you will never leave this place." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga hurls wards of blood magic and blast of fire and lightning, trying everything in her power to stop the shadow beings from overwhelming the group trying to hold against them. It seems an impossible fight, but she has to try. A2's arrival is just what is needed. The light begins to win. Inga tries to add her anima to the river of it, even as the cliff starts to sink into the hole in the world. They are going into the void again, down another rabbit hole. How long will this go on? They have to find a way to break out. "What!? What did they do!?" she cries, though she hardly expects an answer. 

:'''{{#var:6666|Kupot (6666)}} has posed:''' Just because Kupot understands that there is likely some sort of bliss in oblivion and can respect that from a distance... doesn't mean he's going to go in. The moogle works on quickly calming his nerves as he turns himself around and starts to move. Focus. Focus not on the danger. Focus on your task. Lift one foot. Then the other. Lift one foot. Then the other. Move, slowly. The katana digs through the sand, pulling him along slowly, his arms nearly dead weight. "Suffering... is what we kupo." Kupot is barely ahead of the hole now, using his climbing claws and sword to climb the cliff. 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      "Can we really make a difference in the past, Inga?" Mercy asks, perhaps unexpectedly.      "That's where we are now, isn't it- maybe this is why stuff's gone so sideways on your and Wuyin's homeworld?"      Mercy offers this even as her wings activate again, going to get a hand on the blood mage and seeress. Not that, Mercy thinks, they can stop going into the void for much longer. 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     "Why the hell would that matter?" A2 shouts over the clamour of battle, the renewed chanting of the shamans, and the brand new rumbling and splitting of the earth. Even as the ground tilts, she seems to smoothly lean forwards to adjust, almost gyroscopically, despite the impractical footwear. "You have time to think about that? Either we kill this thing now, or it kills *us*. Isn't that straightforward enough for you? Past or present or whether it fix anything or not, it's us or them. That's how it always is."     Where her sword would be drenched in blood, it instead obliterates shadows, bones and dust. A2 hasn't failed to notice, and apparently neither has the lead viking, maybe their chieftain. "Better question: what's that thing and why is it important?" she yells to Wuyin, gesturing towards the glowing sword as she seeks out another solid shape in the throng of darkness, cocking back her arm whereupon her sword floats into position like a dart in an atlatl, and fires itself like a cannon round where she 'throws'. "Why does this thing even entertain the idea of something that can hurt it inside of its fucked up little mental play, huh?" says A2, not only aware the dark voice can hear her, but hoping it does.     "You think I don't know that?! You think I'm somehow incapable of understanding whose *fault* all the suffering in the world is?! As if I haven't lived with that every day of my goddamn live? Cry some more you sad, pathetic little shit! As if I'd listen to anything from something throwing a cosmic goddamned tantrum!" 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Kupot climbs, though the world around him comes away. Wuyin follows, hot on his heels. The abyss beckons behind them, though they stay out of reach. It is a near thing. They both reach the top of the cliff, Wuyin extending a hand down to help Kupot drag himself up, to deal with the numbness and outpace the blackness. "What --" Wuyin looks up. He stares at the weapon for a long moment. He puts a hand to the side of his head, cringing like he was getting an awful headache at the worst possible moment. "It --" His voice takes on an odd cadence. "The Norsemen will explain that they were sent by a vision from their own gods, told to go west and help a dark skinned people defeat the Jotun with a weapon gifted by Odin himself." He straightens, moving away from the yawning chasm. He moves into the normal darkness, his hand wreathed in flame, pushing back the shadow. "They will tell tales of setting sail, and raiding a small monastery on a desolate island outside of Scotland, where they found a strange device they can only liken to a sword. On their journey, a noxious fog overtook them, but the blazing light of the strange weapon kept it at bay." He looks up, expression grim. "A few months later, the fog will surround the island." The battle rages onward. More monsters arise. A2's telekinetic weaponry and Inga's anima-fueled magic helps beat them back. They have a foothold, but it's being lost to the hungry gash along the shore that has begun bisecting the island. The other warriors fall, one by one, refusing to give ground. The figures at the center of the ritual are protected by the man with the strange sword and the outsiders who have come to their aid. More sorcerers in the dark are struck down, and the immediate threat lessens, little by little. "No," the voice hisses. "Like... this." A tremendous shape drops from the sky. A horned, winged demon, absolutely colossal, wings down from out of the eclipse. It snatches up the warrior with the sword, and he loses his grip. It falls to the ground. The glowing weapon descends into the darkness. The entire island stutters like a glitching computer program and derezzes. It loses coherence quickly, leaving the group floating in space. Cold surrounds them. There is no sky. 'Down' is the sky. Oily rain falls upwards. It's like they blinked and blinked and they stand, one and all, on cold ice. They stand in a camp on a glacial shelf, below the shattered, hovering hull that A2 fell through. The camp looks like an old explorer's, scattered with crates. There is a quiet hum that fills the air. Everyone feels warmer. The awful cold that clutches Kupot's bones lessens in intensity, slowly but surely, despite the apparent lack of a source of heat. A2's sensors, once they've stopped vomiting errors again, pick up that energy source she had found before. At the bottom of a downward-sloping path leading from the camp is a door. It's cut out of the ice, into the side of the glacier. Flowers and vegetation grow out from under it. The scent of honey and oil is in the air here. There is no handle; there is just a circle where one should be, humming with anima, with a faint impression of a handprint within it. Wuyin is visibly tense, and looks like he's actively biting his tongue at this very moment. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head. "I don't know. Maybe. Time is not a straight line," she answers, grabbing onto Mercy again. It's very useful to having flying friends. She looks to A2. "It's Excalibur!" she shouts, but there's no time to explain further. She's not even sure how she would explain. Inga shudders, looking toward Wuyin as the Buzzing uses him as a mouthpiece. She winces, shaking her head. A gasp escapes her lips as the demon descends and snaps up the warrior. She reaches for the sword as it falls, but she's too far. It's gone. Soon, so are they. Inga watches the world unravel again, then closes her eyes. When she opens them, the scene has changed once more. She lets out a long breath and asks Mercy to put her down. "...now there's a familiar smell," she says, looking around herself. Where could this be? When, could this be? Inga looks toward Wuyin, frowning. She then starts walking down the path. Have the come full circle? She extends her hand toward the circle... 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     "What the hell is *Excalibur*?!" A2 only yells even louder; a reminder of just how incredibly out of her depth this is. Wuyin suddenly finding his voice hijacked to vomit less-than-cryptic exposition is, conversely, far less abnormal. Contrarily, it is what A2 trusts more than anything, turning her back to the norsemen and shamans as she falls into the circle, summoning her Type-4O buster and swinging it through the dark like a scythe through wheat, looking to hit her mark through sheer blind coverage. "Does this have anything to do with that damn Engine? Everything important around here glows that colour for some reason!"     The demon, as massive, as awful, as grotesque, as out-of-scope, as vertigo-inducing as it is, is almost a welcome sight at this point. Something with form. With definition. A face to the voice. A definite body to the rhetoric. Something to direct her anger towards. To hurt. To kill. At least, moreso than the failing of the ground, the inversion of the ocean and the sky, and then the nauseating static of reality that follows.     When she recovers from yet another brain-scrambling reality jump, A2 hauls herself upright looking *convincingly* sick, furiously scratching under her bangs and growling "*Fuck* this." when she realizes she's right back at the ice shelf. She takes one glance back at Wuyin, then sees he isn't being as forthcoming as he was a second ago. "So what? Even some gods hate this thing? What happened to all the native people on this island then? And the damn vikings? Those are the corpses? Did they really fuck up and lose that badly? Some 'gods' if that's what it all amounted to." If Inga weren't sticking her hands in suspicious places, A2 would just mash her hand on the circle anyways. Maso is probably good enough, right? 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      "Excalibur - the sword in the stone. The righteous sword of the king of Britain, Arthur."      Mercy answers A2. "Probably something more, here."      They fall, and Mercy holds onto Inga tight, at least until they land... somewhere else new. Mercy snorts in exasperation, slightly. However, Inga is let down onto her two feet carefully, before sighing as Inga toddles off towards the door.      "Oy, hey, be careful..."      She sighs. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Inga puts her hand to the circle. The anima thrums, a crystal clear note singing aloud. The door gains shape, and pulls itself into the wall. A hole appears. There is the scent of salt water, and a slight haze of fog. The shore is visible from here, with sunlight filtering through perpetually overcast skies. A lighthouse can be seen outside. Wuyin looks imploringly at A2, turns to the door, and sprints out. He -- and they -- emerges on the beach along the so-called Savage Coast, with a beach shack nearby and a mercifully normal paved road leading up a slope to the island highway nearby. Behind them is... Fog. The Fog. Dense as can be. There is no door, and there is no other-space. Everything registers as normal as Kingsmouth and Solomon Island ever is. A zombie even shuffles distantly along the beach near a washed-up dinghy. Wuyin spits blood into the sand and exhales in a rush. "The Wabanaki medicine man and the Norse gaoi will conduct an exhausting ritual, trapping the evil fog in the Vikings' artifact. They will construct a warding circle on the island, and the Norsemen will take the sword with them so the magic can never be undone." He looks at A2 a bit pointedly, like that should answer part of the question. "The wailing of women will fade. Memories of unlikely friendships will linger a little longer. They will all vanish from history, these unsung heroes of the Darkness War." He puts his hands to his knees and looks like he's an inch from retching. It doesn't do anything for his mysterious and enigmatic demeanor. "Someone must have found the sword," he pants. "The..." He gestures blindly with one hand down the beach in the direction of the harbor. "The Lady Margaret. Not the Polaris; that fishing expedition. They let it out." "I don't think the Engine was on the ship at all." Wuyin slowly straightens. "I think it was here the whole time. And the Fog... whatever it is, it wants it gone." There's a moment of quiet from him. He adjusts his glasses. "I think, if it's all the same to you, I'm going to try to avoid going into the Fog again." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Naturally, she goes through as well--and finds herself back on Solomon Island. It seems...more real. But is it? She still doesn't remember how she got here. Inga walks up behind Wuyin and stands beside him, frowning as she listens to the Buzzing speak through him. She grips her staff tightly, frowning as she looks toward the ocean and the fog that surrounds on all sides. "...it must have been lost on their voyage back. Sunk to the depths...then fished up by those poor people," she says, shaking her head. How will this help them? She isn't sure, but she will certainly think on it. "The engine....I guess we'd better find it then." 

:'''{{#var:1108|A2 (1108)}} has posed:'''     A2 spends a full minute looking as if she is verifying that she's back on that damn island for real. The 'fog of war' on her minimap. The little black dots of wandering zombies. Solid, consistent ground. Nothing turning upside down and floating through infinite space. To make a point, she fires her sword at the unfortunate undead just for the self-affirming splat. She's grateful to be back in this other, much more tame hellhole.     "What a gigantic w- no, you know what, fine. I'm fine with that. Take it to the lighthouse and turn it on. Easy. No goddamn *water*." Small blessings. 

:'''{{#var:1159|Mercy (1159)}} has posed:'''      "I think, if it's all the same to you, I am going to go take off my suit, find a stiff drink, and forget about the rest of the night." Mercy replies to Wuyin. "I've seen some stuff but never like this... and I hope you don't have to keep seeing it, like this." A pause, though, and Wuyin is warmed up carefully through the aid of her Staff.      "Almighty." She says, simply. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The zombie goes splat. It's extremely satisfying because it doesn't spontaneously turn into black goo and attempt to assimilate A2, or turn the ground into a hole that goes to nowhere. "No goddamn water," Wuyin agrees, heaving a sigh. He nods faintly at Mercy, and casts an unreadable look across the small group. "But not right now. I don't know about all of you, but..." "...I'm going to London," he says firmly, "and getting a fucking taco." He turns and marches up the road. Anywhere is better than here. 
}}

6037/The Foreigner Is Coming Home

2018-10-17T05:52:04Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/09/14 |Location=Boston, Metastasis Earth |Synopsis=The Foreigner comes home. |Cast of Characters=6708, 495, 42, 6645, 1151, 6660, 1067, 6384,..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/09/14
|Location=Boston, Metastasis Earth
|Synopsis=The Foreigner comes home.
|Cast of Characters=6708, 495, 42, 6645, 1151, 6660, 1067, 6384, 8, 6648, 1143
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      The little girl is crying. It's sharp and loud, the wail of a child who doesn't know what's going on, sat in the middle of the sidewalk bawling her eyes out. She doesn't stop until the gentleman arrives. He's tall, and handsome, with dark brown hair and a hawkish nose, and eyes as deep as the ocean. He squats down, the cape of his old military uniform brushing the pavement, tucking his cane under his arm. He smiles at her. Her tears stop, and she sniffles as she looks up at him, rubbing her eyes lightly.      "Poor girl," the man says, his voice the picture of refinement, "Poor dear child. Did you get separated? Did you lose your mother?"      The girl sniffles and nods. The officer smiles and pats her head. "There, there, dear. I'll sort you out right quick, hm?" The hands of a practiced father lift her up into the air and on his shoulder. The girl's tears slowly dry as she rests her head against him. He's gentle. He's such a gentle man.      The gentleman starts walking down the street, the girl on his shoulder. "Every little girl should have a mother." He steps over the pavement, his polished military boots clicking as he walks over fallen corpses. He rounds the corner into fire.      Boston Harbor burns. Dark water fills the bay, blacker than midnight oil. Great tentacles twine around heavy ships. Military vessels from the Naval facility at Nantucket are blocked by the vast bulk of whale-like nightmares with gaping jaws and rings of teeth. On shore, hideous, bulbous-eyed fish-men in military uniforms tromp along, clutching guns of alien and hideous design etched with runes that twitch and throb. People are being separated and dragged off in chains.      The gentleman's smile doesn't change. He gives a whistle. "Marcy!"      One of the fish-men trods over obediently. The gentleman holds the little girl out in front of him and smiles. "Now, darling, this is Marcy. She's one of my many beautiful daughters. She'll take good care of you, won't you, Marcy? That's good, Marcy." He hands the girl over to the bulbous-eyed creature, who gently takes her in its arms and pats her with webbed fingers. "See if you can find her someone to play with, alright? I think Billy's little boy just got a new tin soldier." The gentleman purses his lips in sudden thought. "Do children these days still play with tin soldiers, Marcy? It's awful late in the year. I ought start thinking about Yuletide. I've so many presents to buy."      The gentleman turns away and adjusts his collar as the Deep One goes toddling off, the girl held in its arms. A balding man with bulging eyes steps into stride with him, holding out a book.      "We're on track for Leng's demands, Father," the balding man says to the handsome young gentleman, "They've offered a bonus chest if you can get the natives to sign off on a generational."      "How many rubies is that?" The gentleman says, tugging at his glove.      "Several hundred, Father. Shall I ask them to diversify? A few diamonds?"      "No, no. Rubies are fine, Kenneth, fine." The gentleman looks out over the burning harbor and sighs, the deep and cheerful sigh of a man accomplished. "Tell them..."      "Tell them the Foreigner will do what he can, but there's no promises, and I shan't expect pay up front. It's a favor for friends, Kenneth, nothing more. If we can, we will. If not, they'll understand."      Kenneth snaps his heels together in a sharp salute and lopes off towards the burning bay, arms swinging as he runs. Foreigner's lips turn upwards in a smile. "I should set him up with someone nice," he says to thin air as he plucks a hidebound ledger from his breast pocket and produces a quill pen from his sleeve, "Maybe at the Yule dance. Everyone loves the Yule dance."      Against a tableau of fire, the Foreigner walks, head in his ledger, humming a Christmas song to the air. The cheerful music drowns out the sounds of the screams. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' And then there's someone arriving who is much less of a gentleman. This is not a time for shenanigans. This is a straight invasion of weird and unknown forces, and it's time to engage with the situation the best way she knows how. Violently. Riva is in full Templar regalia, making her stand out in her military-style red, white, and black dress uniform... But the massive anchor-like Ajoran Cross over one shoulder and a shotgun in the other speak of a more... forward advance kind of mentality. Boots hit the ground, and she begins forward, implacable as she begins charging towards the conflict. The last thing she wants is another Solomon Island, and she begins making this point known as soon as she identifies some of the eldritch invaders, her shotgun going off with a blast of light and fury as she works to begin presenting a point of resistance to the incursion. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     What appears to be a chromed-up, futuristic jet fighter arrives in the sky. Staren surveys the scene below with a concerned frown. This... this is HUGE. An army is marching in the streets, and there seem to be multiple giant sea monsters attacking the boats. He judges a complete defeat unlikely -- they're going to have to hurt the enemy forces enough that they decide to pull out.     After passing by overhead, he circles around for another approach. Map data (and target positions, for anyone else who wants to try shooting at giant tentacles) are shared with any who can recieve them. 

:'''{{#var:6645|Cu Chulainn (6645)}} has posed:''' The Clock Tower had sent Felt and Lancer the message right as the call was reaching the Multiverse. Boston was on fire, and it was suspected to be Grail-related, because that was a goddamn huge fire and it was because of tentacle monsters or something. As the closest applicable agents, the duo were being sent in. Felt is a tall man with purplish-black hair slicked back, as well as a suit and tie and a pair of black gloves. Lancer is meanwhile in his blue bodysuit, wearing jeweled earings, his blue hair in a ponytail. A red spear is in his hands as the duo approach the harbor. They charge in, Lancer at the lead thanks to his great speed, but they don't focus on the civilians and slavers in the streets. They're the type to aim for root cause - whatever brought this problem into being in the first place. And so, Lancer and Felt are aiming for the harbor, likely joined by whoever came in with them. They're moving for the most expedient path, but if any of the fishmen harass them, Lancer moves to try and strike them down with his spear, entirely willing to gut them without a trial. It's not like they have rights. (And more seriously, the situation's extreme enough that they have permission to kill anyways from their bosses.) 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The crowds in the city are, appropriately, running for their very lives. Boston is kind of a rat's nest of twisty one-way streets and old roads only mostly converted into new ones. It makes it easy to get lost if you aren't local, or to get into a hard-to-reach place if you are... or if you're familiar with similarly old, unplanned urban sprawls. Now where could someone like Tidings have picked up /that/ navigational skill. "Um, excuse me!" The voice is from a young woman in black, walking down the street towards the Deep Ones. Unlike everyone else, who is pushing past one another to run screaming away from them, she's somewhat hesitantly approaching instead. "S...ir? Or miss? I'm terribly sorry; I'm not sure how to tell..." She trails off awkwardly, nervously adjusting her glasses, glancing away at the ground. She draws herself up. "I would very much like to speak to your leader," she says, firmly. She's rooted to the spot, but looks about an inch away from rabbiting. Is this some random local down by the waterfront trying to evade the monsters at the shore, throwing herself to the wolves? By any metric or measurement, it certainly seems to be. She is most certainly not what she seems. But don't tell the monsters that. 

:'''{{#var:6660|Thomas Alva Edison (6660)}} has posed:'''     In the Past (but not too long ago),     Edison had finished his most pressing appointments for the day, and was unwinding and thinking about things quietly in his Labatory. A place of reflection, of science...where he thought about his plans, what things were going on in the Multiverse, how to out do Tesla, and other important thoughts. However, the peace of his thoughts were interupted. A military Aid came in, looking like a ghost. Edison thought to disarm him, until the papers and footage of what was happening hit his desk.     Edison, suddenly very grim nods to him, standing up. He called for aids to follow, trying to gather as much military as could be brought to bare on such short notice. However, Edison would refuse to stay...no he would arrive with his men, leading from the front was something Edison might not have done in life, but as the Presiking...as the embodyment of every US president as well as Thomas Alva Edison, he was that man.     Now...     US Military ships would start appearing, on the lead ship Edison stood on the bow, watching...his eyes and senses trying to feel the situation out. He spent his life railing against the supernatural, and even as a Supernatural entity now...he sure was glad to have the extra senses.     "Men, Women...Soldiers of the United States." Edison's voice carried to his people. "We face a darkness that I do not have a light on yet. Yet. We know that there is a reaction to the Grail here. We know that it is killing our familes, our friends, our Countrymen, our /BROTHERS IN ARMS!/" he says, instilling the gravity of the situation. "However, know I, Thomas Alva Edison, your Presiking...your protector fight with you. Know that I ride with you into battle...know that we will DRIVE this evil from our shores, and rebuild Boston to be even greater than it was...and once we know what evil this is, we will NEVER allow it to hurt our people again! Fight today, fight for your lives...for our people...because tomorrow is the Dawn, and I will bring it to all of America, and we will share in it's warm light!"     The speech ends, as Edison feels...something.     "Commanders, you know your duty, hit that ship hard...but I see the source. Keep me infromed, but you know your duties better than I...I will stop the source." he says, and rises into the air, as DC power causes him to rise. He soars off, on a direct collision course for Foreigner. Landing, the figire of Edison smashes into the street, causing the pavement to rise up from his impact. Electrical power courses through his body as he rises, his eyes hard, determined...and angry.     "You, sir, are under arrest. Murder, mass destruction, the list goes on." He says, with a tone that brokers on /not calm at all/. Infact...his shoulders are capped by electrodes now, and from his back the /AMERICAN FLAG/ in pure wavering energy appears.     Edison has not come to play. He has come to stop a threat to his country. 

:'''{{#var:1067|Captain Flint (1067)}} has posed:'''      "Jesus, Flint," says John Silver. The looking glass is folded up and handed back to the captain. The two men stand upon the quarterdeck of the Walrus. Both of them are all too aware of the peril that awaits the ship and her crew, should they continue sailing. Indeed, all around them, men begin to murmur their discontent. The footage leaked seemed to show a prime opportunity to make some money in the midst of chaos, especially with the Navy otherwise engaged. Modern worlds were a favorite target; their technology sold well on less advanced worlds. Both of them had underestimated the sheer scale of the chaos, however.      Flint's seafoam eyes scan the horizon. All around him, tension begins to rise as the crew awaits an order. The murmured malcontent turns to distrustful glares. "Steady as she goes, Mr. DeGroot."      The order has been given to continue sailing into the mass of tentacles, eldritch vessels, and entangled Navy ships, despite the clear and present danger. It is received with a riotous uproar of groaned complaints, to which the captain responds with a nod towards John Silver. "Handle it."      "How the fuck do you expect me to do that?"      "There's money to be made here, Mr. Silver. Just not the way we initially expected." He turns his attention to Silver fully, showing that he means to brook no argument. The quartermaster's crutch beats against the deck and he moves down to the maindeck to smooth things over with the crew. This will be a hard sell. Hopefully, Flint's right. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Another day, another strike on a civilian target. Orchid happened to be near where the Presiking was getting ready with his response, so hitched a ride on his flag-ship. She finds the dramatic speech Edison gives rather invigorating. These aren't her people, but she'll do what she can to help them. She has little intent of getting into combat, but life may have other plans for her. In any case, before the ships engage the hostile navy, she has jumped off and onto her rocket surfboard, and is heading for land, for the worst hit areas. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel had been a very active elite with the Union, with its fall she's been around but seems to be less of a figure than she used to be. She's however reared her head when Cu's partner offered to give her away in. She looked out of place for this world her clothing looked human at least till the point one might notice there isn't a single seam on them anywhere. She also had a strange disc on her back as well. She looks to Felt for a moment she summons her keyblade the Dual Disc and well? There's no hiding she's here from Perry and his minions, there really isn't. She's a keyblade user and she's wandered into a mess of eldritch horrors here. She'll strike out at any of the fish men who get too close, yet she's seeming to be looking for something with the arrival of Thomas freaking Edison? That name is known to her, her world her universe depends on his inventions to have come into existence. She hears his speech and she thinks she'll have to speak to him later if they all live through this mess. 

:'''{{#var:6648|Sakata Kintoki (6648)}} has posed:''' Fire? That's Golden. It's the element of MANLINESS. Ships? That's Golden. It's old-fashioned TRAVEL BUILDINGS. Crying kids? That's not Golden at all.     Someone needs to answer for all this. That person is... Uh. The Golden Rider has no idea. The monsters dragging people away, presumably, but is there anyone behind them? Who knows. It's too complicated! His motorcycle's engine heralds his approach long before he even reaches the creatures, growing louder as Kintoki pushes the vehicle faster and faster. Spotting someone being dragged away, he wastes little time as he guns it straight for one of the Deep Ones in question, twisting his bike at the last moment to do a COOL SKIDDING MANEUVER as he comes to a stop.      There may or may not be fishy parts under his bike after the fact.      "Yo! Your Golden Rider is here! Now... Who's the punk responsible for all this?!" He punches his giant brass knuckles together, lightning bursting out from the impact while his shade-adorned face scans the growing crowd.      Looking at everyone present, it's... Really not clear who's responsible. 

:'''{{#var:1143|Touta Konoe (1143)}} has posed:'''     There's really no words to describe what Touta's looking at...Actually, there is. Total mayhem. He doesn't know what had ended up bringing everything to this point and he doesn't care. All he knows is that he doesn't like what he sees and he intends to stop what he can.      "What the hell even happened here...?      No time for questions though.While Touta isn't as capable to deal with the astrocities at the harbor, that's not where his aim lies. The moment he sees the fish-men like soldiers dragging people away in chains he already knew where he needed to be. So he figures with that in mind, he should start his introduction to these fine fish-folk with a splash!      "Catch the earth..."     Using Shundo, Touta's body becomes a blur of speed which should give enough leeway to break past the soldiers' ranks before they have time to try and aim him down. His goal is simple. He's gonna try to break the chains that bound the captured citizens, and he intends to break those chains whether he needs to rip them apart, cut through them, or use an incredibly heavy sword to force them to break under the pressure. He wants to get these people out of here as soon as possible. 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      "And I," the Foreigner stops, spreading his arms and smiling broadly, "Am here to offer that country the chance to be part of the greatest country in *any* world. Science, medicine, economy, all ahead of the whole human race. I am here to offer the country that is my country, the country that I love the most in the world, the first crack at becoming part of something even more wonderful than it can possibly imagine."      Those mad eyes look up at everyone. "The empire of my wonderful children."      At that, cannonfire rings out around him. Shells of pure nightmare come falling down around the Foreigner, shells of darkest night that roil with horrifying evil. Even a touch is enough to seal regeneration, to carve away immortality. These are not cannons that explode - they are nightmares in the shape of murderous steel.      Amidst the crescendo, the Foreigner looks up again, a horrid frown crossing his beautiful face. "A moment, if you please, ladies and gentlemen. I've some terribly pressing business to attend to."      And then the Foreigner is gone, flickering in the night above Riva and Touta, and there's a very different look on his face. The gentle smile is replaced with a cruel gaze.      "You," he says, and his voice is ice, "How dare you kill my children. My own flesh and blood. My boys and girls." His cane rises, pointing at them both like a wicked king's blade. "And so close to Yule."      And the cannonfire rings out again... 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      Riva surges into a squad of fish-eyed hybrids without a second thought. Her Ajoran Cross flashes outwards, the heavy anchor sweeping aside pale-faced, wet-skinned men and women in white uniforms. They bleed the wrong color as they die, splattered across the pavement. Touta runs alongside her, carving into chains, cutting loose citizens who go running as the hybrids attempt to fight back. These hybrids are ill-trained; no match for the pair. A whole group of citizens goes scrambling away.      The Foreigner looks up.      Staren's jet is not the only one in the air tonight. U.S. forces are scrambling, jets from the nearby naval base falling into position along the sleek chrome machine. Radio attempts fail, though; each open channel explodes into the creaky Christmas song as the jets try and contact him. Staren's scans aren't looking great, either. There's a lot of chaos down there. Worse, the tentacles are all connected to something, and they're connected to something *massive*, something rising out of the water like a great black island. Midnight-colored sea slides off it as the hump rises, ships clutched in its tendrils, and a great, impossible eye opens, zeroing in on the jets. Then the eye yawns wide as teeth erupt from the center of it, teeth that wriggle and writhe.      Lancer and Felt run towards the harbor. Their progress is unimpeded; so far the disaster is relatively contained, relatively small-scale. The horrors haven't leaked out much further. But as they run, they can see the man - the brown-haired man in the military uniform who most definitely does not belong. They see the Deep One Hybrids bring the innocent girl forward, and the strange man turn and speak with her briefly. Lancer and Felt see the pale, fish-eyed men salute, and then draw strange-looking rifles and point them at the pair.      Thomas Edison falls out of the sky with a fleet of ships sailing into the bay. The ships are met with the giant, horrifying eye, which just seems to produce more tendrils to grasp them with as black ships move into formations to begin firing. The Presiking makes a dynamic entrance, landing and pointing and declaring at the man in a single stroke, with Orchid right behind him on her rocket board, and Deelel behind her. The man looks up and smiles, turning away from the young lady with a, "...your pleasure, madam," as he meets the Lion's gaze. The flag flies high behind Edison.      The man stows his ledger in his coat and his quill up his sleeve.      And he gives the flag a crisp military salute, a wide smile on his face, the light of madness burning in his eyes. "Ah, my home and native land. You never really lose the love of your country, do you?"      The cane in his hand comes down on the ground. He leans on it. In the distance, cannonfire fills the air, the horrible magical ships clashing with the newfangled destroyers. The waves themselves seem to fight the destroyers as garbled voices speak words that Felt, Caster, Lancer, and Rider immediately recognize as magical incantations - magecraft, of a kind. Over it all, the gentleman's voice comes, cutting through the noise like a blade. "Sir, to whom do I have the honor of speaking? I should prefer we know each other's names before we draw, after all."      He rests his hand on his heart, and the mad eyes brighten as he smiles. "My name is Foreigner. Your pleasure, sirs and madam. And this is Abernathy, my trusted lieutenant and darling little boy. Say hello, Abernathy."      The hybrid in the white uniform waves uncertaintly.      "Abernathy is an American citizen, you know," the Foreigner says as he starts strolling forward, spinning his cane in his hand, "Just got his driver's license last week. Imagine that. A driver's license! A license to drive a motorized vehicle. What will they come up with next? Only the greatest country in this world could come up with something so wonderfully innovative." 

:'''{{#var:1067|Captain Flint (1067)}} has posed:'''      Silver has just finished smoothing things over when Flint receives a private call. A message from a Lieutenant Abernathy, representing the Foreigner's forces in this engagement. He mutters a response, then puts away the radio. With a hand upon the railing of the ship, Flint descends the stairs down to the maindeck, to speak to his crew with the appearance of an equal.      "One year ago, I told you I'd make you the princes of the New World." The canvas sails above flap briskly in the wind. A few yet remain furled, owing to the uncertainty of the approach's safety. "We achieved the impossible. We took not one, but two Spanish treasure galleons, and secured for ourselves a share of the largest fortune ever taken in the history of our world. We took more than that." He pauses, looking across the myriad uncertain faces--among them, Silver.      "We took the first step towards our future. A future with a place to call our own. Where we will keep what is ours, and fear no one. I offer you today the chance to take another step. The kings of the Multiverse and their tax-paying, God-fearing subjects would brand us monsters, merely to make sense of us. They will be relentless in their pursuit of us. So..."      He looks out over the sea. "We will relentlessly pursue the capital necessary to ensure they break themselves upon us. To ensure we are not so profitable a target as they might think. That next step starts today." He looks up at the sky--specifically, at Staren's jet. "It starts with that jet, there." The faces of the crew look up and see it, flying through the air. His voice begins to rise, his breathing quickening as he attempts to gradually work them up. "We've been granted safe passage through the tentacles," says the captain. "And carte blanche to take /everything/ we can carry. All we have to do is bring that thing down. Who among you will turn down the chance to defend your future throne?" He asks, his voice nearly a shout. "Who among you fears kicking the dog of civilization while it's down?"      That seems to do it--first a single, raucous shout from one of the dumber crewmen. Then, another, his friend. The more meek among them are emboldened, joining the chorus of shouting and stomping. The fervor spreads through the crew until even those who know better join in. They can sense the change in the winds, and it's better to be a voice of approval for a haul than a naysayer, with so many ayes.      Flint barks a series of orders, repeated by the ship's navigator DeGroot, and by several crewmen in order. "Man the fore and tack sheet! Lay down on the fore yard and overhaul the rigging! Clear away the rigging! HAUL ABOARD! GUN CREWS AT THE READY!" The maindeck is suddenly awash in activity, as the square-rigger's sails begin to unfurl fully. Its speed increases notably as it sails into the fray, unmolested by the tentacles or the eldritch vessels sharing the seas. "MAN THE SWIVELS!" The Walrus' vanguard move to man the mounted swivel guns on the side of the ship.      John Silver looks like there's a knot in his stomach.      "FIRE!" Staren's aircraft is threatened by a rising shower of what appear to be small cannonballs, at first. They are, in fact--but they shine an unusual hue. A familiar hue. Must be George or Pavo's work. 

:'''{{#var:6660|Thomas Alva Edison (6660)}} has posed:'''     "The answer, to your question Rider..." Edison says, pointing towards Foreigner. "Is the man who just called these fishback invaders his Children," Edison says, calmly...though right now his indignation was building a great deal. Edison stares down Foreigner as he speaks, not immediately attacking because there was some hope that this was some missunderstanding, some mistake, something that might allow him to stop loss of life with words, and now power. Of course, this leaves him almost immediately.     "I am Caster, the Presiking of these lands, the great United States of America." He says, his tone grave as he 'gives' an offer. "Then you sir, have another charge to the list. Treason, or maybe you forgot to read on your laws. You swore an oath to defend these lands, and here you are attacking...burning...and then attempting to intimidate her into joining your empire?! Nay, Foreigner, we will not bow to your demands, we will not BREAK under your heels either. These men, these women, these SOLDIERS...these AMERICANS will never bow to you. We would all die, to the very last of us, than allow it to come to pass."     Of course, Foreigner goes on the offensive first, fighting through the pain as he attempts to rally his forces against the meanace. Of course he can see what he is doing, using fear...it was a poison that needed to be exercised from this place, and shown that he could bleed, like anything else.     Even as cannon fire hits the ground near him, even as debries hit him, he weathers through it, undaunted as Edison fades out, just like Foreigner did a moment ago, and would appear directly infront of him, instead of behind, or to the side of. His hands covered by GLORIOUS DC BOXING GLOVES, as he attempts to repeatedly jab Foreigner across the face, before ending it in a powerful uppercut, and an attempt to grab him by the leg, and FLING him back into the sidewalk.     "Your allies will too fall under our might, and should they escape justice today, know that no place is safe to them, that I will follow them to the ends of the Multiverse if I must to bring them to justice for their crimes." Edison boldly declares. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The girl gets led to the Foreigner by the fish-men in uniforms. She seems nervous at first, and why wouldn't she be? She's surrounded by horrible monsters, likely about to get clapped in irons and sent away to some foreign port, never to see the land of her home again. It's a tragic story that will be retold by the American heroes here whenever they speak of this black day on Boston's history. Except it isn't. She's brought into the Foreigner's presence, and her nervousness melts away. She speaks to him first with a look of officiousness to her, and then with a warm aura. She nods, smiling, and politely disengages as the brightly-clad forces of this world and others arrive to interfere. "...we can resume this conversation in more civilized surroundings, once this is all over." She pauses. She says something quiet, her face briefly touched by sorrow, and then a melancholic smile. She inclines her head, and steps away from the ship itself. The girl takes out a book. The leather cover is of a disquieting shade and texture. The emblem on the cover is circular, with a series of hemispherical globes protruding from the front in a symmetrical ring. She undoes the brass clasps, and the globes stir. The eyes within them open. They are things from the deep, staring out at a world bordered by theirs. The book opens. The water nearby, off the sides of the pier and then the waterfront as she moves back into the city, stirs. There's a disturbance in it like something massive was moving beneath the surface. She looks up from the old, wrinkled pages inside the tome, and she spies... humans. Survivors. Stragglers, trying to hide from the fishmen. They beckon her, a bunch of college-age men and women, ducking inside a coffee shop. She raises her hand, gesturing back at them, a little weirdly. The shop freezes. The windows ice over, and the hinges on the door fill with frost. Another gesture, and sea-water bursts up and out of the ocean, a torrent rushing into the open door and blasting the hiding group off their feet. It begins to freeze as well, trapping them inside. The young woman whistles, and some of the fish-men start towards them to collect. Tidings moves on. "If I were a rat," she muses aloud, radiating an aura of baleful magic, flickering blues and violets coloring the air around her, "where would I go to ground?" 

:'''{{#var:6648|Sakata Kintoki (6648)}} has posed:'''      At a glance, it's nigh impossible for Kintoki to sort out who's who in all this. There's crazy looking animal people, robots, robotic animal people, normal-ish people... Who the hell is he even supposed to punch?!      The one that's talking all fancy and putting out all sorts of crazy magical energy, probably. The Presiking's confirmation helps to seal the deal on that, and Kintoki readies himself to fight as he steps off the bike. At the request to identify himself, however, he takes another moment to strike a pose instead of getting right to the punching.      "Sakata Kintoki, the Golden Rider! Let's make this a match to remember!" Grinning wildly, he ducks down slightly as he prepares to launch himself right towards the gentleman Servant when he gets blindsided by the explosive darkness touching down around the massed group. Instead of bringing his arms up to defend himself, he maintains that pose and rallies his mind!      Or he's just focusing his energy to prepare for his first strike while ignoring the smoking wounds already covering parts of his body and outfit from that first explosion. Spotting Foreigner, Kintoki raises an eyebrow while trying to gauge his... Everything. Is he really trying to take on so many people at once?      "... Heh. You've got guts, I'll give you that!" Kintoki laughs as he surges forward, ducking briefly before throwing a lightning-empowered straight punch towards the Foreigner! "Yeeeeah!" 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      So we've got one of those villains who loves the sound of his own voice. Orchid would make some snide comment about those who betray their homes or the cause they are born to, but she doubts it would raise morale much.      Instead she mocks his reaction to the death of his children. "What, did you think you were bringing them to a picnic?" she loudly asks. "If you're bringing them on a raid, be ready to lose some."      On landing, Orchid starts releasing her drones, and while this gives her the ability to see more, it also means she isn't dodging fast enough to avoid the incoming fire. On the other hand, she now has drones following the Foreigner, illuminating him so that he makes an easier target for her allies, while giving some cover for her friends. 

:'''{{#var:1143|Touta Konoe (1143)}} has posed:'''      Touta's quite familiar with Joy To The World. The moment it starts playing there's a bit of sweat going down his cheek. This Foreigner guy really definitely came off as strange the moment he realized that this guy was adding music accompaniment to his pillaging and abducting. Though what really throws Touta off is his attack.      As the cannonball fires off, Touta's grazed by one of the nightmare fueled attacks and the effects...Well he realizes immediate that this guy is probably going to be a pain for someone like Touta. Still, Touta was use to being at a disadvantage.      "I don't care if you're Foreigner, Ruler, Rider, or anyone else! You don't get to just put people in chains"      Touta can't afford to play around with those cannonballs so if that's the case he'll get serious from the start...By putting a hula-hoop around his waist and spinning it. Though as he spins it at some point it just starts spinning in place by itself.      At that point Touta takes a running start into a jump that launches him right into the air. He doesn't have any real long range weaponry of his own so he's gotta get in close to begin with.      "So take the hint and get lost!" 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva strikes to kill. She doesn't provide mercy or quarter to these beings, these invaders. Why would she? They are certainly providing none that Riva can tell... Or at least, none that she'd accept. She has Feelings about Fishmen and eldritch horrors and seaborne tentacles. But then HE comes. Riva looks up to the sharp-dressed man, meets his cruel, sword-like gaze, a gaze that has seen more than a man should have. Riva stares back. "Riva Banari, of the Knights Templar. You've taken poor care of your children for them to behave like this." She says back. "You're supposed to be an American? Then you should understand that if you don't want your children to die..." She narrows her eyes. "Then don't send them to war." A moment later, the shells come down, and Riva twists, spinning the Cross up to shield against the barrage. The impacts crash down around her, shrapnel shredding into her uniform and body but leaving superficial damage from a strike that probably would have killed her were she not so... gifted. She lowers the weapon as the barrage ends, and she looks to the others, nodding... And then she leaps into the air, coming in behind the PRESI-KING with an overhead slam of the Cross, trying to combo in behind him with an initial downward swipe, suddenly reversing into a powerful sideswipe. He isn't going to go far, though, as she hurls the Cross, lashing it out on a tether of Anima to grapple around the Servant and yank him back in, the other hand blasting several shotgun rounds as she does so, only to finishe with a brutal shoulder tackle intended to plow the Foreigner right into the nearest painful-looking thing! 

:'''{{#var:6645|Cu Chulainn (6645)}} has posed:''' As Felt and Lancer reach the harbor, Lancer is about to move to take down the guys who point guns at them...when Felt stops him. Seems like the human-looking guy is the boss. Lancer realizes it's definitely not a human...must be a Servant. As he talks, Lancer does the responses. "Lancer. If you're not gonna give me your real name, well, you're not going to get mine. What the hell kind of Servant is a Foreigner, anyways?" Though, before they can get into a fight, Foreigner teleports off. And then, there's a woman freezing people inside of buildings, trapping them. Trying to find survivors. Felt Haddask has a few issues with this. One, that's not justice. Two, based on her voice, she's that chick who threatened to rip off his tongue, and he's not okay with that. With a gesture, Felt signals for Lancer to take her out. Well, Lancer wanted a fight, so he's pretty excited. He starts swooping in with inhuman speed, moving towards Empty Tidings' position. As he does that, Felt pulls out a spool of some sort of wire, attaching it to his glove. The wire suddenly starts to float upwards, and then flies around the area, wrapping itself around light poles, benches, anything in the streets, to create a sort of barrier for them to fight in. They're breakable, but if Empty Tidings moves to break/interact with them, she'll get a shock of electricity from Felt channeling it through them. Though Felt's hoping that's not necessary...because Lancer's charging in. "Sorry, magus, but I've gotta end your little kidnapping spree right here. It's a shame I have to bloody up a pretty lady like yourself to do it!" With a rapid burst of speed, Lancer shuffles around Tidings, and then moves to dash suddenly in front of her, trying to plunge Gae Bolg into her stomach. He's fast, but he's also clearly underestimating her - though the spear will also interact with her wounds if it hits, making it slightly more difficult for them to heal. He's moving to straight up try and kill her. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren tries to hail the other jets, but... Christmas music. <"Gah! Damn it... If any of you can hear me... I'm afraid I have no advice to offer. I've never seen this thing before."> He takes evasive action when the eye looks his way, but no beam of death comes. He thought there was one kraken per ship, but it's all one huge monster?! <"I was going to try to tear up those tentacles but--"> The cannon balls come up. Supercharged by Erchius, no less. Staren rolls to dodge, and one of the balls clips him, hitting harder than he'd expect. <"It seems I've got my hands full already. Good luck.">     Staren's fought and adventured alongside Flint, it seems too many times to count. They've been to many worlds, and he's seen Flint lose men, even fixed one of the not-quite-lost ones up with a cybernetic leg. It seems strange to be fighting them now.     Staren doesn't discount the vessel just because it looks old-timey -- You've got to have tricks up your sleeve to survive in the Multiverse, as the erchius-charged cannonballs show. But just by nature of being a ship with people running around it, his attacks could kill crew. Do they really need to die? Do they even deserve to?     They're /helping/ this unprovoked attack on innocent people. They're not innocent. But maybe if Staren was better at talking, they could... work something out. Staren knows that if he kills any of those men, it would make her sad.     But if they kill any innocent civilians, that would make her sad too.     Staren sighs. And then he pulls the Star Hawk into a loop and dives, strafing the pirate ship with railgun and laser fire. Most of his weapons aren't really meant for this sort of thing, and he didn't bring much in the way of missiles -- he was really hoping he'd hit some kind of windfall to replenish them after he used them all on the Saint of Carbon -- so he's kind of probing the ship's defenses. But he's not holding back, either -- these are still weapons that can deal plenty of damage even through moderate defenses.     Those people haven't done anything to you, he almost says, but then he remembers the Prospekt. They hadn't done anything either... but of course, THAT was so the Concord could build a better future. Does Flint even see the difference, he wonders? 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      Foreigner looks up as Edison comes surging in. The meaty fist swings, electricity crackling with every motion. Foreigner ducks, tips back, like a gentleman boxer; he floats in the air, that horrible, broad smile back on his face. "Why, Mister President. Is this great country all of a sudden a monarchy? What *have* I missed? What *has* happened?"      The cane comes up to block one of the crackling strikes. The wild, mad eyes lean forward to Edison's. "Mister Presi/dent/," he stresses, "How can you say I've committed treason, sir? Treason, sir, is an attempt to betray one's country, kill the sovereign, overthrow the government."      His lips crack in a wide smile. "I have nothing but respect for your office, sir. And I have nothing but respect for this beautiful country. And I have nothing but love for democracy, sir, and the values that made this country strong."      The Foreigner is strong. He leans into Edison, pressing against him with the cane like it's a dueling sword. "And you, sir, were not elected. You, sir, claim to be a king over a country that has none. I say that you, sir, are the traitor." Around them, the landscape flickers. They're standing on fire. They're standing on a blazing inferno. There's a warped and twisted song playing over the roar of the flames, but Edison can't make it out. The Foreigner's wild, wide eyes spread as he throws up a hand, and out of nowhere, a dark and horrid tentacle slashes across Edison's face, all suckers and stinging darkness. Foreigner flits backwards.      Riva leaps over the Presi-King and brings the anchor down, hard. The anima-powered chain catches him and drives him forward, into the shotgunb lasts, into Kintoki's fists. They smash against Foreigner's face, hammering into the man's jawline with full and thunderous strength, a peel of thunder blowing aside the burning flames. The Foreigner's mad eyes look up, and Kintoki and Riva can see, can *see*, the face cracking, the chunks of face falling away like broken glass, the roiling dark eyes, the eyes, the dark black eyes in the swirling vortex like the bottom of the sea- 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      The light from Orchid's drones shines down on him, and the illusion shatters, and it's just a human face with a little bit of dark red blood rolling down the nose. Foreigner straightens, a handkerchief falling from his sleeve, and wipes his nose delicately as he floats backwards. Touta comes up and brings his blade slashing down, a blade Foreigner only narrowly avoids being completely bisected by thanks to another rapid twitch of spatial movement. Touta can see the uniform splinter, can see blood drawn. It's not a lot of blood. It's much less than he'd've liked.      Foreigner straightens. Again, he wipes away the blood like a gentleman. "War, madam? You think this is war?"      "This isn't war. I assure you. I know war. I have been to war many times in my life. I have *won* many wars in my life. Think me a dandy without a hint of blood on his hands, do you?" The Foreigner's head tilts slightly to the side as he draws what is unmistakably a U.S. military service pistol circa the mid-1800s. He pulls the hammer back and levels it at Riva.      "Madam, I have killed people."      He pauses.      "No, that's not quite right." He raises the gun. "Madam."      "I have killed /savages/."      He fires into the air.      Mist fills the field, rolling across the ground from the sea the ships are fighting in. Amidst that mist come shadows, fast-moving, powerful, dangerous shadows. The sound of garbled throats chanting high-powered magecraft breaks through the sound of the warbling violin, and in short order, bombards of magical energy come roaring forth. The shadows seem to loom larger, as if in anticipation of what might be coming next, shadows so deep even the drones can't put them out. Foreigner remains illuminated, a stern frown on his handsome face. "And I will do so again to protect my boys and girls. They're ever so good, my children. They deserve the whole world."      His frown turns to a broad smile. "And I intend to give it to them, don't you know."      "Oh yes," he adds, pointing his cane at Touta, still clearly visible amidst the roiling fog, "You there, little boy. What do children play with these days? I have a great deal of shopping to do, you see. I have so many children." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel was going to go after more Fishmen, but as she sees the strange woman who seems on the side of the eldritch horrors which are running wild... She's helping them she's a threat, Deelel has her keyblade ready and she moves not right at The mysterious woman. No, she's going to one break through the ice with several swings of her blade and two use several lowe powered fire spells focused to take out the ice and give the people a chance to run. Any fishmen who even so much as look at going after them will find Dee. "THe Military is here just try to move away from the fighting." She turns her attention to the woman. "Viral I see." There's a statement of fact and no real emotion in her voice as Cu goes after her, she will move in to follow it up, with a Fire spell as she closes to get into melee. She doesn't say a thing she does not really even seem to oddly be wanting to banter. She normally does which is odd for the people who might notice it in this fight, she's focused on the elimination of this woman 

:'''{{#var:6660|Thomas Alva Edison (6660)}} has posed:'''     "You have a twisted way of showing it!" Edison shoots back at Foreigner as the two clash. Foreigner proves light on his feet, and a master of fisticuffs, better than Edison was expecting. Even as others make use of his opening, he focuses himself. The tentacles come, and Edison wades through the attack like a ship in the waters of the ocean...of madness. However, unlike weaker boats, Edison is a lot heartier than he appears, which is impressive because he's a giant man-burly chest lion-man. Though these attacks leave their mark, but as he fights, some of his wounds are already closing in response to this.     "You murder your country's citizens! You burn it's cities, and you DARE speak to me of treason!? YOU DARE to proclaim your love in one breath, while destroying it in your second?! Nay, monster...and if that wasn't betrayal, you are taking command of a foreign power. That, is treason!" he bites back as he comes in, and BOTH of his gloves go flying out at the dodgy Foreigner, soaring at him. Carried on DC currents, they aim to SLAM into his chest, and smash him into the ground.     "I on the other hand was ASKED by my country to lead it in it's desprate moments, in this grail war of bloody and worldly scale, in the joining to the Multiverse. I am not the President, but the PRESIKING, and when the time comes, I will give up my power so that this country can continue as before...but to make it happen, I must do for my country what it asks, to provide a strong leader, to guide it with the light of my making to a brighter future..." he says, "You, the darkness of this world, will FLEE at the light I bring it!" 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Empty Tidings gets to a park on the waterside before she gets intercepted. It's got paved walkways around the edges, a nice green with rows of trees seperating it from the street, and even pavillions overlooking the waterfront. Stairs down to the rocky beach below are topped by Eastern-style pagoda rooftops. It's a pretty nice place. It's also extremely easy to set-up a magical electric fence around it to trap the roving murderous magus inside. She stops, looking up, frowning faintly at the working as it's cast. Her eyes sweep around the park, and she holds the opened tome closer to her body. Lancer gets her attention immediately, though, and it's easy to see why: she smiles widely, obviously checking him out, and starts, "Then maybe you should think about --" He's /fast/. She's only human. Gae Bolg comes up, and she looks at him in a blind panic. She throws herself to the side, and Gae Bolg's tip rips through her dress and into soft flesh. It punches through, then tears out the side, an inky black splash spattering to the pavement. It hisses up into smoke, and Cu can see... ...an injury, but not nearly as bad of one as he'd expect. There's a bloody spot on her side, and her clothes have a rip torn in them to her hip, exposing a slice of pale skin. She stumbles, at his side, drifting towards his right and clutching the book tightly in her left hand. Her eyes gleam behind her glasses, an eerie green glow alighting in them -- and then, suddenly, she's on top of him, flickering forward with a stutter like reality had just glitched out. Her hand catches Lancer in the stomach. It's an open-palmed touch, a thrust carrying with it unnatural force -- magecraft? -- to propel him backwards and upwards, a sudden eruption of black tendrils screaming into the open air with a shriek from a thousand tiny mouths. The actual push might knock the wind out of him, but the real problem is that he's being launched into the Fire spell Deelel launched during her stoic advance. She plants her feet, turning on a heel and slashing her left hand in an arc. Icicles materialize in mid-air with a shout of some word that doesn't quite translate. They launch like self-propelled spears, darting towards Deelel and peppering the treeline where she thinks she spotted Lancer's Master moving. "I don't much care for kidnapping," she finally says, "but I have to respect a man who cares so much for his family that he'd make a deal with a stranger to keep them out of harm's way!" Deelel may find the voice somewhat... familiar. 

:'''{{#var:1067|Captain Flint (1067)}} has posed:'''      "He's coming around!"      "Brace for return fire!"      These and numerous other cries arise from the crew, as the Star Hawk makes a strafing run. Flint sprints up to the quarterdeck and pushes DeGroot off of the helm. Taking the wheel, he turns hard to starboard. As his hands turn it, he barks more orders to his crew. "Man the mizzen-topsail clewlines and buntlines, lee mizzen topsail brace! Furl the topsails!" There is a moment wherein the response from his ducking crew is more a look of confusion--even Silver seems to question this order. "NOW!"      A handful of crew hands scurry up to comply. As the ship sails between two Navy vessels, Staren's attack hits. A line of fire cuts across the deck like a scalpel, sending men sprawling to the deck if not outright torn apart by the munitions. Anguished cries mingle with the captain's barked orders. In places, the ship's wooden construction buckles and snaps free--only to reveal a tempered, space age metallic armor plating beneath.      The shrapnel claims a few more men, and Silver is heard calling for volunteers to take the wounded belowdecks, to Howell, the ship's doctor. Meanwhile, his order is complied with, amidst slightly confused faces. Some of the ship's sails are furled, slowing its speed. Then comes another bizarre order.      "FURL THE T'GALLANTS AND ROYALS! LET GO THE ANCHOR!"      The bellowing fury in his tone brooks no threat to his authority, unlike his first. His orders are followed promptly, and the anchor drops, digging into the deep below. It catches, and Flint begins rapidly turning the wheel hard to starboard. The ship groans and creaks. "ALL HANDS, BRACE! GUN CREWS PREPARE TO FIRE!" His orders are repeated through the entire vessel, and with good reason.      The ship turns so hard that it tilts visibly in the water, using the anchor as a fulcrum for an increidbly dangerous turn. Cargo and loose rigging whip across the deck dangerously, with a barrel of pitch rolling all the way off the ship into the drink. As Staren flies overhead, the side of the ship is made to face the jet. "AWEIGH ANCHOR!" While two men hastily move to the turnstile to begin lifting the anchor so it doesn't snap off of the boat from the sheer force.      Flint's eyes scan the air, watching the Star Hawk's flight path. His brow furrows. Then, the order is given. "OPEN FIRE!"      A hail of cannonballs from the swivel guns, and the Walrus' port side--a full-on broadside--sails through the air, the shots made slightly ahead of his position in an effort to improve their chances of striking. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Surrounded by darkness, there isn't much Orchid can do against this attack, feeling it drain her. Light is out. I.R.? Not working. U.V.? Blank. Still, there is a way she CAN see, or rather, can HEAR. She raises up her arm, retracting her hand to replace it with a sonic screwdriver. From it she emits pulses, letting her hear the area around her. She's still got enough drones around her that she can figure out where everything is. In fact, it's giving her some ideas.      Orchid is going to use the damage done to the city by the bombardment, some good aim, the map she's been building of the surroundings, and a few little plasma blasts to knock part of a wall over onto the Foreigner. 

:'''{{#var:6648|Sakata Kintoki (6648)}} has posed:'''      A good hit! Except it doesn't quite have the impact Kintoki was expecting. Yes, he struck the Foreigner straight on, but what's going on with his face? Staring into the abyss that is his eyes, Kintoki's only line of defense is the shades that he's inexplicably wearing even this late at night. He can feel something tearing at him, something watching. It's not something of this world, and there's that damn /music/ coming at him from every which way, too!      It's infuriating. It's grating. It's like his ears and eyes are bleeding, but nothing's coming out. It's enough to actually force the gold and black clad Rider to step back, fighting the urge to clutch his head and show... Weakness?! Inconceivable!      "The hell did you just do?! Trying to get in my head all crazy-like... Just shut up and take your hits like a man already!" Kintoki shouts with much more forcefulness than his earlier posturing, punching his fists together again as lightning gathers around his brass knuckles.      "Just because you have kids... Don't think that'll make me go easy on you!" Three maneuvers. Kintoki stomps the ground, launching himself forward yet again with a burst of lightning at his back. He slams a foot down into the pavement just before Foreigner, sending up another blast of lightning into his fist. With a defiant roar, he starts hurling punches and kicks towards the Foreigner at a rapid clip, each strike punctuated by even more lightning surrounding his limbs! 

:'''{{#var:1143|Touta Konoe (1143)}} has posed:'''      It was close. But close was so far still. He has no idea what just happened. One second he was there, the next he wasn't.      "This guy just teleport or something?!"      Well whatever it was, Touta has no intention of having him trying to do it again. He'll definitely-      "Touta, watch out!"      A confused look comes on the boy's face as his sword of all things gives him a warning. In the distance amidst the fog the bombardment commences. Touta still in the air finds it somewhat difficult to dodge and eventually he finds himself caught in the explosions. Only smoke and mist can be seen where the 'little boy' had been.      "If you want some advice for your kids..."      A blur bursts from the fog, the 'little boy' returns back on the offensive, wounds beginning to shower his body. Clothes in tatters. There's a discontent look on his face as he once again leaps at Foreigner.      "How about you stop spoiling them?! 2000 FOLD!"      Just as he gets in range Touta swings down once more, but this time his speed bringing it down was even greater than before. Likely due to the blade's magnified weight. Foreigner better be able to vanish again otherwise he'll be feeling this one. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren winces as his weapons tear into the ship... and expose modern materials. Ah, see? Staren knew Flint had to have done something.     He tries not to think about how many people were standing too close to where his weapons just hit.     There are other things to think about -- like Flint TURNING THE SHIP ON ITS SIDE TO FIRE A BROADSIDE INTO THE SKY.     Staren realizes what he's doing and reacts quickly. The Star Hawk transforms and turns around, blocking with its shield.     The first cannonball goes right through the shield emitter, allowing the others to tear through the Star Hawk in several places, ripping tiny unidentifiable mechanical bits free. Staren holds the controls with white knuckles and an expression of shock as the machine shakes around him and damage indicators appear all over his HUD.     Okay, hang on, hang on. That was luck. No way can Flint have aimed before he even blocked. He just has to... keep it up. Keep the pressure up, and Flint will have to retreat.     The hovering mecha, now humanoid, takes aim with its right arm and fires another long burst of railgun slugs and laser pulses.     Is money really more important to you than lives? Staren opens his mouth, but the words die on his lips again. There isn't really any point in talking, is there? 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' And then the world was on fire. Riva immediately begins to regret (again) how sensitive she is against this thing. The nature of the Foreigner is immediately apparent... At least, as much as she can comprehend of the /force/ of this being before her. A Power wearing the skin of a man. a man wearing the skin of a Power. Where does one begin and one end? As the mask cracks, she stares into mind-bending darkness, her senses immediately humming to protect her from immediately being cast into a pit of logic-rending insanity. She looks into the Eyes, and the Eyes stare back, staring into her, and find her wanting. She is but a human, after all. A human gifted with Power, but not like the Foreigner. Not at all. Her connection is much more tenuous. And he exploidts that as he fires, the magical bombards crashing into her, shattering her Anima shields and casting her backwards to it the ground crumpled and bleeding. Her wounds gleam orange faintly as they work to close, a surge of Anima energy working to keep her intact through the strike, but she slowly clambers back to her feet, wiping blood away from her face. "You... Your children..." She grimaces, abruptly clutching her head. "THIS IS NOT THEIR WORLD! GET OUT!" She roars, her eyes crazed. "GET OUT OF OUR WORLD!" Immediately, she drives forward with savage speed and force, dualhanding the Cross as she comes in with a sweeping strike. The lashing attack doesn't even come close to the Foreigner. But the huge burst of Anima might, blasting a hole into the mist as the world-energy crashes down in a crushing wave upon the Foreigner. "YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!" She yells, apparently getting unhinged a bit by unbidden revelations. 

:'''{{#var:6645|Cu Chulainn (6645)}} has posed:''' The Lancer, Cu Chulainn, was hoping for a lethal blow. He's done it before - blur in, strike, kill. But this magus he's fighting isn't normal, he realizes. Before he can follow up with another blow, the girl is suddenly coming out from above him, and moving to slam into his stomach. The palm-strike strikes true, causing him to gasp for air as he's propelled backwards by the horrible tendrils and into the flame. Lancer's fast enough to start moving out of the way and avoid taking the fireball full-force, but the flames burn into his side and armor, boiling pain and wounds appearing. There's a loud grunt of pain as he forces himself back onto his feet from the force, solidifying in position. Felt stays away from the main combat, keeping his wires up...as Lancer tries to figure out where to strike. She had survived what he thought would be a fatal blow, and is some sort of martial artist. Definitely an interesting challenger for sure - the type of fight he's been looking for. He considers what he'll do next, and then, he responds to her statement. "You know, that /is/ pretty honorable..." Lancer actually agrees, but then, he takes a firm stance. "But whether or not that is, I've got my job, and I've got my orders. So give me one hell of a fight before I put you in the grave myself!" And then, he's moving again. Now that she can expect it, Empty Tidings can probably keep up with Lancer's rapid speed, but it's still fast. He's going to try and overwhelm her with a flurry of swings from the spear, trying to batter her up while he regains his energy from that strong thrust he threw, and ever so slowly push her away from the center of the battlefield if he can. At some point, Lancer's gonna want to use those wires to his advantage. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' She's not sure who this woman is but it's clear she's on Fishman's side. She intends to take them down, yet she gets the feeling this is no run of the mill occultist they are dealing with her. Oh, Mac, ya that's not a small timer spell at all there as the other closes in with them for a moment. "He hates the people here or desires what they have more than he loves his children." Is Deelel's reply but that voice? Where has she heard it before? She can't place it for now and does not have time to check her own memories and compare them to this new sound byte. Shes'g to some sort of ice-based attack coming at her, and she's forced to try and block it using her keyblade, it's only partially successful causing some of the ice to splinter about her, she takes shrapnel, however, as it does not cause he to blee it cause some faintly glowing wounds where her body was breached by them. She keeps on the move though she keeps up the attack launching into a chain of strikes with her Keyblade intending to just try to cut Empty down. There's a bit of machine precision to the attacks and not a bit of movement is wasted either. Kinda like dealing with an Alch in a way. 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      Kintoki's fist crashes into Foreigner's face. The lightning roars its displeasure as Foreigner flickers out of it, a black burn across his handsome face. Orchid's shot comes up for a building, and Foreigner simply snatches it out of the air with a tendril from nowhere, a vast and horrible dark thing emerging from the air behind him. Suckers wrap around the plasma bolts, holding them in the air for Foreigner to look at. He tsks, and they're crushed beneath the tentacles, splattering into energy.      "Really, now."      "Young lady, I do not like to strike a woman, but-"      Edison comes swinging in hard. The lightning gloves smash into Foreigner, cutting off his speech. The Servant jerks in a most unnatural way, like a puppet with strings being cut; even watching the jerking is unpleasant as Foreigner dangles there, limp, above the rolling mists. But already they can see those wounds are closing, the damage healing. The Foreigner straightens, prim and proper, tugging on his sleeve like a man about to go out to an opera. "Mr. Presi/dent/," he says, "I am not their leader."      Suddenly, it's as if they're underwater. The sky goes dark, and the air becomes thick with liquid. Red eyes shine from the silhouette of Foreigner as he sets his cane back under his arm. A voice as deep as the blackest oceans rumbles, clear as day despite the water that surrounds them.      I aM tHeIr GoD. 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      Then Riva's blast of Anima blows the phantasmal water aside like so much dust. The mists, the darkness, the water all fade and vanish under the destructive burst of spirit. Hideous fish-men, bulbous eyes and bulbous lips and moving gills and slick of skin, stand exposed, and they warble with horrid tongues and scramble for the shadows. On the backs of their hands are unmistakably Magic Crests, though of a kind that Felt has never seen.      The Foreigner, exposed, is smashed into by Touta's heavy blade. The gentleman hits the ground like a meteor, smashing against the concrete. He bounces once, then lies still. There's some blood pooling around him, some blood staining his fancy uniform. A hybrid soldier scurries over. "Father!"      The Foreigner jerks upwards in the air, as if held on invisible strings. Again, a handkerchief. Again, he wipes his face gently, sweeping away bruises and bloodstains with a wave of his hand. He gestures away. "Not now, Abernathy."      "Father, the fleet-"      "StAy bAcK, aBeRnAtHy."      At that, the hybrid jerks back and salutes. The Foreigner rises into the air, higher and higher. His smile widens.      "Well," he says calmly, "I see that you are not to be underestimated, Mister President, ladies, gentlemen. It is indeed my mistake to take you so very lightly. But I assure you that I will not make that error now."      He snaps his fingers. "Kill the President first."      The build-up of magic in the air is explosive, and foul. The air stinks of rot and decay and sweat and urine and *terror*. The sky becomes black, foul, as smog fills the world. Water, black water, begins to wash up as far inland as the party, flooding the streets of Boston town.      And over the streets, over the buildings, they come.      "BlAcK sHiPs Of EvIl MiEn ~ NoNe SlEeP wHiLe ThEy SaIl!"      They are nightmares riding black water. They are vile things, manned by fishmen, belching smoggy terror into the air. The choking smog melds with the black water to fill the world as the roar of the nightmare cannons becomes louder and louder, centered entirely on Edison. *Entirely* on Edison.      The Foreigner means to burn the President out, and with him, the light that's keeping everyone together. 

:'''{{#var:1067|Captain Flint (1067)}} has posed:'''      In ship-to-ship combat, Flint would have time to maneuver, and make another pass. Certainly, one could call the Star Hawk a 'ship' in that it's a vehicle. Even with Flint's mastery of sailing, Staren is simply in the faster of the two crafts. On the Walrus maindeck, Flint peers through a looking glass as Staren reveals a capability the captain wasn't previously aware of.      With a definitive click, the telescope is put away once more, and a new order barked. He needs to buy the gun crews time to reload.      "Brace for return fire!"      All around the ship, pirates lay flat, duck against its reinforced structures, covering their heads with whatever's on hand. Staren can see them from his vantage point above the ship. They respond to Flint's orders as if this were merely another prize--he's already whipped them up into the requisite frenzy. It would certainly seem that money is indeed more important to him than the lives of those on the shore--and perhaps the lives of his own men, too. If not money, then whatever goal he intends to turn it towards.      The barrage from the mecha shears the anchor free, prohibiting the use of that particular tactic again. It also sets a barrel of powder for the swivel guns alight, throwing two of the gunners backwards and showering a handful more with deadly splinters of flaming wood.      The fight is beginning to take its toll on the frigate, as more of its metal skeleton is revealed. More and more, it seems fitting to recall the paradoxical ship of Theseus, as Staren's attacks strip free the deceptive veneer of 18th century ship construction and reveal it to be a different beast entirely. Taking a beating though she may be, she's still got fight in her, and so does her captain.      "Swivels and vanguard, prepare to fire on my mark!"      When Staren's projectiles cease, he gives the order. "EV'RY MAN WITH THE MEANS, FIRE AT WILL!" The attack that follows is not nearly so precise as the captain's cannon barrages, but it isn't intended to be. A chaotic mess of wildly anachronistic projectiles form an angry curtain which heads towards Staren. Some of it is small arms fire, some heavy infantry firearms, some literal musket balls. Even rocket propelled grenades enter the mix, all rounded out by small Erchius cannonballs fired from the swivel guns, some now manned by different pirates after Staren's attack. Meanwhile, the Walrus, without its anchor to use as leverage, begins turning to attempt another broadside. How he intends to manage one without the anchor is still a mystery. 

:'''{{#var:6660|Thomas Alva Edison (6660)}} has posed:'''     They all focus on Edison.     Every single tentacle, every ounce of the blackness of the voice. Every cannonball, every weapon at their beheast. Hit with the Noble Phantasm of the dark /god/, Edison is blown away by it's sheer power. Edison's gone the moment light returns.     That is because holy shit that hurt, that is because Edison nearly DIED from how much force, how much power was behind it...it tried to break the light of progress, and drag him into an age of darkness...but that is, perhaps, why it fails to kill him. Edison is much more in this form than he was ever in life, a beacon of progress...and now infused with the power of every US president...that beacon burns only brighter.     The darkness SHUDDERS for a moment, as something seems to hit against it...it shudders again, and again...until Edison BREAKS through it, tearing out of it like a burning candle against the night. Edison's form is battered, bloodied, his chest is exposed from the uniform he normally wares. He takes a step, and if he could nearly fall he does. However, he starts walking again.     "Their God? Then you made a mistake coming here. You made a mistake to make me an enemy...and to turn traitor to your country!" he booms. His voice carries, as he speaks, so all could hear him. "You want to pull these people back into the darkness, degrade them into a era of darkness...of fear...but I will not allow it. I worked too hard in life, too DAMNED hard in life to allow this! Too allow supersticians, fear, and IGNORANCE to win!" He says, And then vanishes.     Or rather, the entire area flashes for a brief moment, before a spotlight above the fight appears, above the fighting soldiers, above the harbor, above the fight with Foreigner himself.     Edison appears again, as he lets loose a roar, the dramatic roar of the GM lion.         EDI         SON     The light shines down, as WORLD FAITH DOMINATION floods the area with it's revealing light. Removing the darkness where it is not most concentraited, where it hides and feeds on fear and ignorance. It floods those fighting with spirit, while acts as a bane against those who use these things against the world. To Foriegner, who claims himself a god of his children...the effects will not be pleasant.     However, Rider, feels something else. "YOU! SON, have earned your green card, BE BATHED IN THE LIGHT OF AMERICA!" he booms... 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     What the hell?! They're shooting him with bullets... and RPGs... and erchius cannonballs! Staren reflexively tries to block with the shield, then transforms and tries to roll out of the way as a plane. It... well, at least SOME of the projectiles miss, but more slam into the Star Hawk, denting and tearing free armor and exposing internals. At the rate this is going, he's not going to hold up.     Staren sighs. If he's going to stop Flint and his men, it's going to require pulling out the big guns.     It would make her sad if these men killed others, too.     The Star Hawk appears to drop out of the sky. It falls towards the ship. Did that last volley finish it?     But as ship and sea draw clos to Star Hawk... arms and legs unfold again, and the thrusters in the feet slow its fall. In the space of a second or two, the pack above the right wing unfolds into what looks like an overly long sniper rifle, the right hand grabs the pistol grip and then the whole thing does a frontflip in the air, Staren pulling the trigger as it's aimed straight down. He doesn't need to use the stabilizers when a target is this big and this close.     What the hypersonic shell does to the air molecules in its way creates a pillar of fire and makes a sonic boom echo out across the waves. Staren's adjusted settings so the magically-charged warhead won't go off inside the ship (unless the armor completely stops it...) instead, only in the water just below does it explode in a burst of elemental steam... which transforms a lot of the water around it to match. Whatever happens next, the sea is about to get REALLY rough in the Walrus's immediate vicinity. 

:'''{{#var:6648|Sakata Kintoki (6648)}} has posed:'''      That's more like it. With that flurry of blows, Kintoki's looking more confident even as he coughs and hacks at the effects of the fog iun the surrounding area. Between the fog and the water, it's starting to look like the fight isn't going to work quite as well on foot as it is in the air or something that can traverse the water.      Or even something that can move stupidly fast to ignore all of that. With Edison drawing the bulk of the Foreigner's ire, Kintoki leaps onto his motorcycle and revs it several times as the nightmare cannons rain down unholy death. Tentacles, water, weaponized darkness, all of it is distinctly not golden, but it's no less impressive. In any other circumstance, he'd be watching the destructive power of Foreigner's attack. Not even to study it, but simply to marvel at how impressive it all looks coming together.      ... Except he's already doing just that even in this circumstance. So what if he's in the blast radius? So what if he can barely breathe? An attack like that is meant to be seen and to be marveled at, not something to run from like some sort of coward! Literally laughing (and choking) in the face of danger, Kintoki pops a wheelie as the Golden Bear finally begins moving, driving around in steadily growing circles while the Rider pounds away at the massive drums that have appeared on its sides.      "This is what I was looking for... Hold nothing back, and let's get rocking!" As the motorbike goes around the block to pick up speed, Edison's grand display of ULTIMATE AMERICAN SPIRIT even after bearing the brunt of so much punishment emboldens Kintoki's GOLDEN SOUL! "A green card? I've already got my license, though, so let's make it a Golden Card!" Burning rubber despite the water in the street, Kintoki completes a lap around the block before aiming his bike straight for the Foreigner.      "Let's hit the road, then! Bear howling! Golden Drive!" The motorbike revs again with another strike of the drums, flames shoot out from its pipes as well as the road behind the Rider, and Kintoki is aiming for a direct collision course with the gentleman Servant. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "Hah!" She laughs. "I don't think you really understand what sort of man the Foreigner is if you think that," she tells Deelel. "He's simply... coming home." A smile grows on her face. "Taking his due. Payment for services rendered, I think. They'll understand, or they'll burn when they fail to bend the knee." The woman's eyes turn to the spearman. That weapon... it's dangerous. Terribly dangerous. She's only barely able to slow the blood-flow from the wound she took earlier, and she should have closed it up already. Her eyes narrow as she regards him in a newer, more dangerous light. "Orders? So you follow orders over a sense of honor, do you? Well." Her smile widens. "I can work with that." They attack. It's fast. Too fast, if she's being honest with herself. She can fend off one, but not the other. Mechanical precision and a total lack of wasted movement from one side; furious swipes and killing intent from the other. Empty Tidings is confident she could survive if she put her all into it, but she couldn't do much else but defend until an opening presented itself. And, with these two... that might be too late. "Tch -!" She lowers her stance, mimicking the spearfighter's. Her shadow lengthens. She faces him, and when he charges, her right hand sweeps forward, taking her out of the mimicked poise and punching upwards with her bare hand. She turns aside his first blow, but barely, matching lightning speed with the same. She discards any pretense of clumsiness, flowing smoothly between defensive forms in a blurring flurry. She blocks with her right hand and forearm almost exclusively, and the spear crashes against it like it were striking against a pillar of stone. Deelel flanks her, intentionally or not. Empty Tidings whirls, extending the flesh-bound tome and casting it open at her. A flash of darkness obscures her from the Program's sight, making the fine bladework lack a precise target to strike. She ducks and weaves, backstepping while she tries to make room and finds it constantly encroached upon by both combatants. She whirls completely around once to intercept the Keyblade before it hits her in the face, her right hand blocking it between thumb and forefinger, a brief flash from her eyes visible through the dark. The constant parrying is sending shocks through her body, though, wearing her down like a stone against the sea. Isn't this exactly what she needed to avoid? Suddenly, terrible blackness flows out from the Black Ships of Evil Mien. It overtakes the park, and the sea rises, washing inland with icy waves. The water hits Empty Tidings like a moving wall -- and she is unmoved. It breaks over her and around her without so much as moving a hair out of place. It doesn't shove her aside; it embraces her as family, even as the nightmarescape that builds around the dockside envelops her and everyone else. She smiles again, teeth white against the inky darkness, feeling... warm. Safe. Secure. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' It can't last. The light of WORLD FAITH DOMINATION follows, casting away the shadows at the surface -- but not with her. She wears them like a cloak. Her own shadow has risen off the ground, draped around her shoulders like a lover. She spares not a glance for the tome of hers; she lets it drop into the encroaching surf, the metal bindings making it sink into the flooding park. Her eyes turn skyward, but only briefly, averting her eyes from its brilliance. Abruptly, her shadow lashes out. The thing attacks Deelel like a tangible force, a two-dimensional shape casting three-dimensional objects into the world. It sweeps along the ground and stabs upward, blades bursting out of the ground to skewer her. It dances around like a puppet on strings, circling her with no regard for Tidings' position, jabbing, cutting and dancing away. To most, this would be a serious problem. For Deelel... "You..." She eyes Lancer, cocking her head. Her eyes widen. Tears gleam in the ascending light, then roll down her face like ink. "You're some sorcerer's servant, aren't you? Oh, you poor, miserable thing." She flexes the fingers on her right hand. Her eyes pierce the deeper darkness, revealing the park as if it was full noon. Words come to her lips unbidden, spoken with an echoing intonation, loud enough for that Master to hear. "Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation..." Empty Tidings raises her right hand. There are cuts and cracks all up her forearm. Pitch blackness somehow gleams beneath. She makes a plucking motion, then twines her finger. A flicker of red like a caught string wraps around the twirling digit, vanishing into the air. Lancer will almost certainly feel the sudden wrenching sensation of whatever sorcery she's enacting, an awful feeling of foreboding in the pit of his stomach. "Well, he'll be around here somewhere, won't he?" she muses. A familiar sigil in bright red materializes on the back of her hand. It burns to black in an instant. "Kill him." 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Deep water and smog are not things that normally worry Orchid, what with the whole being sealed against water... but this is not normal water, and not normal smog. She drowns, until she sees...      The light of progress. The light of science. And this affects her profoundly, as she is a part of that progress, born by science and technology into the world. Edison's light clears her mind briefly, and gives her enough thought to send her spider drones at the Foreigner, directing them to web him, to hold him down for the attacks yet to come. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' It's absolutely, one hundred percent clear that this /thing/ before them is no mere man. The power differential is too great, her body humming, the Buzzing crackling in the back of her head like someone spraying a hive with brackish seawater. There she stands for a moment in the midst of a small army of fishmen, each equipped with a tiny fragment of the Power before her. Her eyes burn, her mind racing as she lashes out at anything close to her, a furious attempt to fight back against the increasingly oppressive darkness about her body and mind, trying to drown her, pull her under to never see the light of day again. The black ships come, choking smog wracking her body as she pushes through it, gasping as her connection to the World continues to sustain her in the face of horror and death. Edison is hammered by the dark tide.... And then he responds in kind. The clash of overwhelming power almost drives Riva back, but the way the Foreigner responds to the blazing light of EDI SON (man, that looks familiar) opens up a chance for her. She hurls herself forward, the Cross at the bear as she hurls herself forward, leaping up while Sakata Kintoki roars past (mental note: get a sweet motorcycle), spinning in the air to try to catch the Foreigner in the air with a hooking sweep, spinning about before hurling the classy man towards the ocean-soaked ground. Riva comes slamming down immediately afterwards, the Cross crashing down to impact the ground. Golden light spidewebs through the depths, crackling ithe ground before the water wrupts upwards in a blast of golden purifying light. 

:'''{{#var:1143|Touta Konoe (1143)}} has posed:'''      The successive attacks of everyone began to accumulate and ultimately led to this 'Foreigner' finally feeling the hurt. It's apparent though, this creature, this Servant is capable of healing its wounds at a disgusting rate. Though what was perhaps truly disgusting was that now after giving him their all, he retaliated in full force. As if the area wasn't horrendous enough already but when Foreigner calls his fleet its as if the very world itself turns dark. For just a moment it gets colder, and the black waters begin to consume the land in a steady flooding.      "Watch out!"      That's all he can say as the armada unleashes its wrath on a single target. The lion headed man. The guy claiming to be the Presi-King? Something like that? He takes the full brunt of the attack with the smog beginning to envelope the others. Even the immortal feels his body slowly losing to this, but just as soon as the darkness appeared the Light of Science vanquished it!      Touta has no idea what's just happened but it looks like the others fully intend to lay into this guy so if that's the case.      "I got your backs!"      Once again the boy speeds towards the Foreigner in a blur, a smile on his face as he breaks out of his dash.      "Hey, hold still for a sec, would ya?!"      Unlike his last few attacks Touta doesn't intend to inflict damage as much as he simply wants to try and pin down Foreigner from escaping the incoming brutality. Thankfully, he has just the weapon to try and do it.      "100,000 FOLD!"      The boy shouts towards the Servant as he swings his blade down. He's not even aiming to cut Foreigner as much as simply get his blade over him and apply the full force of his blade on this servant. He doesn't want this guy to miss out on all the fun. Besides he should really consider the weight of the situation. 

:'''{{#var:1067|Captain Flint (1067)}} has posed:'''      There's only so much that naval maneuvers can do, when your enemy is directly above you. Flint's shouted commands are aimed at minimizing the damage, and they are shouted too late to do much good. Staren's feint seems to have gotten the better of him.      The combustion effect sets the sails alight as the shot crashes close to the ship. It pierces the side, leaving a massive hole of torn metal and scorched wood, threatening to sink the ship. The sheer sound of the attack leaves many of those left alive prone and stunned. One or two pirates attempt to put out the sails as the ship slowly drifts along. There's a good chance it could make a voyage home, if the captain so desired.      He does not.      Flint, bloodied by a thick cloud of shrapnel which vaporized half of the quarterdeck (and a good deal of his personal quarters) is already back upon his feet. His crew has suffered losses here today. Those losses cannot appear to have been in vain. The opportunity this presents--raiding a large, modernized city with its authorities all-but defeated--is too great. And he cannot appear an unworthy leader. Then, they would cast their vote, have him off, and piss away everything he's worked to accomplish. That, he cannot abide.      So, when the Walrus passes by the mecha, slowly drifting as her decimated crew attempts to put out fires, he doesn't surrender, or flee. Instead, he waits. Foreigner's strange power has set the sea to roiling. All he needs to do is capitalize, and he can make this work. The captain is already making the argument to himself, as Silver insists upon retreat.      "Move every bit of cargo we have save the guns to the starboard side. Fire on my order."      There is a pause.      "DO IT!"      The cargo is moved, the ship beginning to list to one side. To Staren, it might appear as if she's taking on water. This is exactly what he wants. At the helm, he steers her into one of the roiling, massive waves caused by Foreigner's magic. The ship is lifted up. The captain bellows his order.      "ALL PORT CANNONS, OPEN FIRE!"      There is a space, a tense, awful space on board the ship, where nothing happens. Then, a thunderous roar as the Walrus once more opens up her broadside upon Staren, attempting to have the last word. If it doesn't earn them their well deserved prize, the crew will have much to say about this. And Flint will have his work cut out for him, for some time, to earn their trust again. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel is in close combat with Empty as she's got this feeling she knows her from somewhere before she can't quite place it though, Deelel's strange weapon seems to hold up well enough as it's intercepted before it can catch her in the face. She has to wonder what's going on here, there is a sinking feeling of dread in Deelel's mind. What is this woman doing? Then things get really bad Deelel is attacked with a strange Alien force. Deelel, however, has seen strange things in her life, helped to birth an entire universe once seemingly a lifetime ago, even though it was a drop in the bucket for how long her kind could live. She moves she uses her keyblade to kick into the air and evades the attack from the first one the second and third end up getting parried by Deelel's Keyblade and she's all ready to go and launch an attack on Empty when she seems to be jacking Cu from his partner. She does not even think she just acts moving to throw herself between Cu and his magus partner. "She's hacking you!" She has no idea what a weapon from a being like Cu is going to do to her other than it's going to be a world of pain, she will attempt to try and guard but well? She really isn't going to be able to do much. 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      World Faith Domination shines. It shines like fire through the sky, fighting against the crushing terror smog. It doesn't make much progress - eating holes, lighting the water, but the water and the ships remain, and the smog continues to burn.      But then it shines on Foreigner.      Flakes of skin come *peeling* off. It's horrifying to watch. Foreigner twists and writhes under the light, dark smoke sizzling around him as the skin cracks and peels. Horrid red eyes come swinging to the fore only to vanish into roiling darkness, which itself is pressed against, harder, harder, harder. Foreigner writhes, and Riva's suspicions are confirmed - the man and the monster are twined together like a quilt. The Foreigner seems to shrink before the overwhelming light, shrink and become helpless as Riva's chain wraps around him and drags him *right* into the Golden Drive. The Golden Drive grinds into the burning black, wheel running across the peeling face. The chain drives him forcefully into the ground, where shining anima explodes around him. Spider drones explode webs around him to hold him down, pinning him to the ground. Touta comes down, the weight of the blade on Foreigner's neck, holding him there under the blazing, furious light.      And then Foreigner's lips open.      And the darkness opens.      The shriek is horrible to behold. The world seems to crack around it, like glass shattering the air. The light doesn't refract, but one of the Black Ships sails in front of it.      The instant the light hits the ship, it's not touching Foreigner.      The instant it's not touching Foreigner, he blinks away. Reality stutters around him as he reasserts himself. He adjusts his collar, darkness and eyes roiling around above it, until he slowly places something over it. There's a sucking sound. 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      It's his face.      He put his face back on.      Blood rolls down it, of course, and one of the eyes is bleeding, and his lip is split, but he's still alive, still standing. Slowly, he pulls himself back together, quite literally. Are those tendrils dragging the cracks in his face shut? No. No, no. Can't be. Nothing like that. Impossible.      Too horrible to think of.      Foreigner looks down from on high at the group. The spotlight swings towards him, and he flits out of it, vanishing once again. His eyes are burning red in the darkness, the light of madness quite literally shining within them.      "hOw UnPlEaSaNt."      Foreigner tilts his head. A long, hideous tentacle spills out of his mouth like a tongue. He swallows it, shaking his head slightly. "My word. Do pardon me. I seem to have lost my temper. I don't normally do that, really. I'm normally quite an understanding man. I'm a parent, you know, it comes with the territory."      He blinks out, and settles behind Riva. Five fingers settle on her shoulder. "And as a parent I understand," he says slowly, against her ear, "That bad children should be disciplined."      One of the Black Ships turns its cannons on her. Its immortality-slaying, nightmare-shell cannons. It fires as Foreigner flits away, the scent of a foul sea breeze on her lips. He appears behind Touta.      "Young troublemakers need to be straightened out," he murmurs as the cannons turn on Touta, and another shell comes firing through the choking smog. Again, he vanishes, the murmur of dying gulls filling Touta's ears over the roar of the cannon.      He appears behind Orchid, settling his hand on her head and patting it gently. "Young ladies need to be taught proper etiquette to grow up and get married," he says as the cannons scream at Orchid, and as he vanishes, she's left with the sound of beached whales' death throes ringing in her audial sensors.      He appears behind Kintoki. "Rabble-rousers ought not be spared the rod." Another round, another vanishing, and this time it's the sound of a flood crashing through the world, tearing apart the land.      And at last he appears behind Edison, and settles both hands on his shoulders.      "Mister President," he says, his voice all kind and gentle, "Do forgive my /most/ ungentlemanly display. I hope I'll still be able to come to the White House for tea when all this is over. As an officer of the Navy I do expect all honors accorded."      "Don't worry, though," he murmurs, "I'm not gonna shoot to kill. I wouldn't want to commit treason, after all."      The shells lobbed at Edison fragment as they fly. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren looks on sadly at the sinking ship. He's sure Flint's employer won't just let them drown, though. Ports on the sniper railgun and the back of the mech release steam as superheated coolant is ejected and new coolant pumped in to prevent sensitive, advanced electronics from melting themselves. The big gun folds back up.     And then the ship tilts. A little /too much/. This feels off. The Star Hawk transforms to full humanoid mode, hovering over the water, and then curls up defensively as best it can while trying to keep the thing balanced mainly on the foot thrusters.     The arms take the brunt of Flint's attack. The cannonballs tear through, and then impact the main body with a series of CLANGs.     But the arms are left swiss-cheesed. There are sparks and smoke coming from the holes, and they aren't moving smoothly.     <"Sorry."> Staren mutters over the radio, and then his machine transforms to hybrid mode and zips out over the black fleet, getting into position to fire on the tentacles.     For a few tense seconds, nothing happens.     "Rrrr... argh!" Staren grunts in frustration as warnings and errors fill his screen. Those weapons are damaged. And without them... well, the damage he's taken is bad enough, but without those weapons, there's no way he can withstand a prolonged engagement.     He turns his machine around and flies off towards the warpgate. Better to get out of here before he draws the kraken(?)'s attention, in his current state. 

:'''{{#var:6648|Sakata Kintoki (6648)}} has posed:'''      "Good night!" Kintoki calls out as he keeps on driving even after driving right off the Foreigner's monstrous face, the smoke still flowing off the vehicle and his body as the energy dies down from the use of his Noble Phantasm.      Alas, there's not much left in Kintoki's tank by the time he turns the motorbike around to face the still-standing Foreigner... Or where he was, anyway. He's not quite sure what it is that's flooring him, but without mana reserves to keep him going, the Rider collapses under his bike in a smoldering, damp heap.      "Better not... Take my license..." 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      More cannonballs fly at Orchid, but this time she catches them with her shield, absorbing most of the hits. "What etiquette? I'ma rush-hour DJ," she snaps back. She takes a few moments to think, looking directly at the Foreigner. She holds up one hand, reconfigured into a light. "Smile for the camera," she says, before flashing it brightly. She's not expecting it to do much damage, but a photo of this thing without its mask might be useful for shaming it later. 

:'''{{#var:6660|Thomas Alva Edison (6660)}} has posed:'''     The shells explode into fragments. THAT'S NOT LESS DEADLY!     Luckily, he's a heroic spirit, and as such a LOT harder to kill, even before being tough as nails to kill on the scale of heroic spirits. Impaled with the shrapnel of the cannon fire, the now battered, but not broken Edison staggers. He does not fall, however, still on his feet, still barely holding on. Even as his spirit energy threatens to disappate...he refuses to go down, he refuses to die right here.     Not while people still need him...not while his country needs him...     Back on his feet, back in control he does not immediately answer. He swings at Foreigner, aiming to try and press him back. They always come from behind...every single time! He roars, putting the last of the strength he had left into each punch, each kick...even as each one SPARKS with the power of DIRECT CURRENT, he roars in determination.     He has to set an example for his people...he has to shine the light through this.     Each blow, however, wasn't just an attempt to hurt, but an attempt to shove Foreigner back into that light.     Once he gets close enough, Edison's chest explodes with brilliant rainbow light, powered by direct current as well, it attempts to DRILL into the /monster/, trying to carry him into the light of the age he brought to mankind.     "Get out of my country! This is not a place for men like you, those who drag this country down into the depths..." He rumbles... "It is a nation of hope!" 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The overwhelming assault hammers into the Foreigner, and Riva gets another close look at a thing she never would have wanted to see or experience, something that she never wanted to observe. The horrific mien of the man-creature before her is beyond her comprehension... Perhaps not her firepower, but certainly her comprehension. She almost retches when she sees him sew his flesh up over the writhing darkness, attempting to repaste a man over the Thing. But then he's behind her. Touching her. Riva jerks, immediately screaming in fear and horror as she twists in an attempt to push it away... Which distracts her from the cannons. Not enough to lay down a deadly strike on the all-too-durable Templar, but enough to blast her back, the dark force of the shell eating away at her, smouldering like actinic shadow. However, she's getting... tired. She's running out of power. She needs to do something about this. With a sweeping motion, she pulls a handgun from her coat, putting several quick rounds of glowing Anima down the range towards the Foreigner. She needs a moment to catch her breath. 

:'''{{#var:6645|Cu Chulainn (6645)}} has posed:''' Lancer's target gets faster. How - she wasn't that fast before...but either way, Lancer keeps up the fight. He's readying another powerful thrust attack, too, and begins to respond to Empty Tiding's strange statement. "Sorry you have to cry, but tears aren't-" And then, she starts speaking special words. Felt, nearby, hears them. His eyes widen. "Lancer, look out-" And then, the Command Seal appears. Lancer's own eyes widen, and before he can react, she speaks the command. His body starts to turn, beelining on where he can feel his Master's presence. The spear is still held for that thrusting attack, but the target is changed. Trying to resist it, force his body back, Lancer can't help but start moving anyways, speeding up to try and stab Felt in the chest. Deelel moving to intercept manages to slow him down, as she stands in Felt's way, but he's looking like he's just going to run through the both of them anyways. But that delay is all the time Felt needs to rip his left glove off and bring his hand high into the air. Three red symbols, in the shape of a strange spear, sort of crossed with a lightning-bolt zigzag. With a flash of one of them turning black, Felt shouts. "LANCER! STOP!" With a powerful burst of magic, Lancer is brought to a halt, feet skidding to the ground. He sighs slightly in relief, but is still on edge, as Empty Tidings has shown to be able to create Command Seals at will. Felt, however, steps forward, keeping his hand in the air. "You clearly know nothing about us if you think our bond is so weak. Lancer - no, Cu Chulainn - is the hero of Ulster, my hero and a loyal knight. He's my /partner/, and I don't need magical orders to ensure his loyalty. Cu Chulainn, with this Command Seal...I order you to use your Noble Phantasm and pierce her heart!" As the speech goes on, Cu Chulainn flips around towards Empty Tidings, and readies his spear. As the Command Seal flows hrough him and commands him, he grins. "Got it, partner. I don't know who you are. I don't care who you are. But you've crossed the line doing that...and frankly, I just don't like you. Let's see you survive this!" He takes a step back. Gae Bolg starts o charge up with hideous red energy,, as Cu clenches all of his muscles. And then, he charges forward, moving to thrust the spear." "GAE BOLG"! Despie charging, stopping mid-charge, and thrusting the spear, he doesn't get close enough to hit Empty Tidings. No, it's not a direct melee strike like that. Instead, the red energy bursts forward like a lance, ripping through the air. It winds around any obstructions, beelining straight for its target. It surges forward, aiming for a specific target - the woman's heart. It focuses on ha spo, lunging straight for her chest with the power to send her flying backwards in the process. A sure-kill move. The legendary move of the hero Cu Chulainn. And he's giving it all he has - even if it the strain he's putting out there is enough to seriously injure him. 

:'''{{#var:1143|Touta Konoe (1143)}} has posed:'''      Touta does his part and once again the group lands what should have been a decisive blow. But...      "Nothing's sticking on this guy!"      For once, Touta realizes just how annoying being able to heal and immortality truly are when in a fight. As he teleported back to his ship and his appearence just continued to become more and more grotesque, Touta kept trying to think of anything that might be able to keep this guy pinned down. But even that boosted attack from the Golden Rider and the Lion Presi-King didn't seem to end it. It just felt like no matter what any of them decided to do to this guy it just wasn't going to be enough...      'One of the Black Ships turns its cannons on her. Its immortality-slaying, nightmare-shell cannons. It fires as Foreigner flits away, the scent of a foul sea breeze on her lips.'      That was it...      'Young troublemakers need to be straightened out,' he murmurs as the cannons turn on Touta, and another shell comes firing through the choking smog. Again, he vanishes, the murmur of dying gulls filling Touta's ears over the roar of the cannon.      A smile appears on the troublemaker's face as Foreigner leaves and the sound of cannon fire is launched his way.      What happens next...           Touta couldn't think of anything that could phase this guy, nothing seemed to stick, but that's when the cannons fired and it all made sense. If nothing they had was going to work on Foreigner, use his own immmortality-slaying weapons against him! So when Foreigner had left Touta to the demise of one of his cannonballs instead, that hula-hoop he's been using around his waist finally comes into play. He extended his left hand out towards the cannnon the air around his hand began to spiral into his arm like a vacuum and with it so did the cannonball that had been launched at the troublemaker. He had something to work with now, but he only had one shot... As Foreigner appears behind Edison, a voice can be heard calling out from the corner of Foreigner's eye.      "Hey Foreigner, you asked me before what kids like playing these days right? Well let me give you an idea...CATCH!      Touta extends his right hand out towards foreigner and something blasts forth from his hand.Something that Foreigner is all too familiar with. It's one of his nightmare-fueled cannonballs! If any sort of attack was gonna stick some real damage on this guy, it was definitely going to be this! If it landed he was pretty sure there was no way he'd be healing as easily as before! 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      The rainbow light hits the Foreigner dead on. Again, he burns, flesh peeling and sizzling, but it's much less *brutal* than last time - but not by much. Riva takes the opportunity to fire her shells into his chest, and again, there's a moment where the Foreigner's roiling darkness is exposed.      Orchid takes a picture of it. Flash.      The camera starts to drip. Black, ichorous ooze pouring out of the lens. It's as if it's crying.      And then Touta gets cheeky. One of the black ships' shells hits Foreigner dead in the chest. It smashes into him, fragmenting across his body. The black nightmare shards stick in his human flesh, digging in like maggots writhing against a corpse.      Foreigner, again, hangs there for a moment, as if struck. Then, he starts clapping.      "Of course, of course."      "Good old Greenwich baseball. Yes, of course. Why didn't I think of that? Nothing brings a family together like baseball. That'll be spectacular."      Foreigner raises his cane under his arm. "I can just see it now. Abernathy and Bill and Marcy all on the bases with Todd and Frederick and Jane, Timothy pitching across the plate...my, yes. That's a splendid idea. A rousing game of Yuletide baseball to bring the family together."      Foreigner settles down, floating down to land on the water. The wriggling nightmare shards in his chest start digging further in. He smiles. "It's important, you know, being with family at the holidays. And I've so much family. More children than you can imagine. More grandchildren, too. And great-grand-children. I do admit I don't look the part," he adds, adjusting his face slightly, "But I'm sure my darling wife would be just ever so pleased to see how *handsome* I've been made. You know, I used to have a much larger nose. Much larger. This barely even looks like me!"      He starts walking on the roiling flood, unbothered by it. "Now, mind you, a gentleman ought not be so proud. It's rather unbecoming. But I think just for this moment the Good Lord will forgive me for it, don't you?"      He taps his cane against the water. "Mister President, do my children stop being citizens of your great nation because of the color of their skin? Do their /hopes/, do /their/ dreams, no longer matter to you because of their /ancestry/? Why, my Mary over there," he gestures with his cane at one of the Deep Ones, the hideous frogs manning the Black Ships, "Her mother came over on the Mayflower. And Abernathy, there, he's descended from Thomas Jefferson. Oh he doesn't look it now, but it's true." 

:'''{{#var:6708|Foreigner (6708)}} has posed:'''      "My children are as American as Greenwich ball, Mr. President."      Foreigner's mad eyes light. "And they hope to bring this country to a whole new age. Because they love it just as much as I do. They're not content to see America constrained, Mister President. After all...why rules /from/ sea to shining sea?"      YoU cOuLd Be PaRt Of ThE ShInInG sEa.      There's the brief lick of the tentacle before Foreigner covers his face with a handkerchief. "Oh my. Do...do forgive me. Sometimes it just slips out, you know."      He stops as one of the Deep One hybrids flags him down with a semaphore. "Excuse me for just a moment, will you."      Foreigner vanishes. He reappears on the deck. There's a brief exchange before Foreigner sighs and reappears.      "Well, now."      He tugs off his gloves and stows them in his coat pocket. "Seems the Leng have reconsidered their generous extended offer. Apparently we just weren't fast enough to please them. Real bunch of schedule-sticklers. Reminds me of one of my old captains."      The Foreigner tucks his cane under his shoulder. The black smog clears. The black ships begin sailing away. The hideous creature in the harbor fades under the water, bleeding black ooze. Foreigner smiles, politely.      "If you'll excuse me, ladies, gentlemen, Mister President. There's no more profit to be made here, and the environment is much too hostile to go looking for new family members. Really, anyone caught up in this storm, you'd think they'd drown straightaway."      The Foreigner bows. "Have a pleasant evening, won't you?"      He reappears next to Tidings. "Madam Princess, at your leisure. With Leng pulling out I've no reason to remain, and frankly I've got sick and wounded to attend to. I look forward to our next, more palatable, engagement, and I offer you my humblest and most sincere thank-yous."      And then, like a bad dream in the morning daylight, he's gone, leaving a burning Boston, sinking ships, corpses, and flooding in his wake. 

:'''{{#var:6660|Thomas Alva Edison (6660)}} has posed:'''     Caster remains, even as Foreigner is casually racist, Edison does not immedaitely answer, and it is too late to continue as he bugs the hell out.     Battered, bruised, and looking hella disshevled, Edison turns towards the others.     Even as the darkness receeds, the city of Boston burns...and the Presiking is not happyn. However, he DOES attempt to put on a smile for those who fought with him...even if they had fought against each other in the past.     "My thanks. My forces will be arriving soon, the work needed to recover and bury the dead is...staggering, but I will see to you being attended to." he says, before turning to leave, "Escuse me, once I am seen myself, I have...a lot of dead to bury."     Right now Edison feels like a failure, a failure who could not protect his people. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Orchid is tired. Worn out in ways she has never been before. But...      This is what she was built to do, and at least a few of her spiders survived.      "I'm going to stay, help with the Search and Rescue," she says, turning back to the task. "Probably need to do a full tune up when I'm done, but I'm not completely spent yet." 

:'''{{#var:1143|Touta Konoe (1143)}} has posed:'''      Foreigner was literally out of this world. Touta nailed him with his own anti-immortal cannon shell, and all he did was laugh it off. Maybe this guy was actually a berserker...      "Man, I don't know about Foreigner but that guy's definitely a survivor. I'll give that nutjob that."      Seriously, how does one go from getting blasted by a cannonball to thinking about baseball. That guy must have had some sort of Madness Enhancement going on. While Touta did want to pursue, the moment he looked down he realized that the Hula-hoop he was using was pretty messed up. Fact of the matter was, even if the damn thing looked silly, there was no way he was pulling off another stunt like that again without it. Besides...It seemed like he would be needed here.      As the Presiking begins to walk off, Touta follows suite.      "Same..." He says upon in response to Orchid's remark. "We were part of the mess, so we'll help clean up too." At the very least he can try to help Orchid help with searching for others while also helping keep tabs on any missing and deceased individuals. Now that...Was going to be a bleak job. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Deelel's blade-vault is enough to keep her in the air, above the shadowy blades that leap out of the ground. Tidings' shadow hunts her relentlessly, trying to land a deadly blow that never materializes. The Keyblade swats at it, clashing with the darkness -- and it retreats, pushed back by the force of... what? Light? Order? Good? It's hard to say. It retracts, though, coiling around the shadowy woman's feet and stretching out behind her, as if relaxing back into the shape it ought to be in. As for Tidings... Empty Tidings laughs. "Oh, bravo! Well done! No... no, I didn't know anything at all about him. I know you, /Felt Haddask/," she says, enunciating his name almost too precisely, with the intonation of a razor scraping vowels, "are one of many foolish little mortals who think a thimbleful of power is enough to step out of the shadow of your betters. And I think he..." The command comes. Cu Chulainn tenses. He resembles nothing less than his Master's attack dog at that instant, and it brings a fierce grin to his foe's face to see it. "...is /angry/." 'GAE BOLG!' The spear leaps forward -- and doesn't connect. Tidings doesn't buy it for an instant. She lifts her hand, pressing it in line with the blooming thorn. The energy /bends/, twisting, swerving and diving for her chest. Her eyes snap wipe. She throws herself to the side, moving with all of Lancer's prodigious speed, and it still gives chase. Pavement buckles and breaks as she twists, watching the seeking energy inch closer in time measured in fractions of a second. He's fated her to die, has he? But she can't be /fated/ to be /anything/. She's beyond the reach of such things. Reality ripples; cracks. She's behind him. She moved without moving. She'll thank the Foreigner for the loan of his strange techique lat- The bolt hits her square in the back. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Tidings' body is flung forward, ragdolling across the park. She tears up turf, rolling and bouncing until her forward momentum is abruptly stopped by a crash into a tree. There's an audible 'crack' as the trunk and her back both snap like dry tinder at the same time. The tree topples, crushing the roof of a parked car, the alarm blaring for a few seconds before the unnatural energies and the location of the damage makes it peter out. Her corpse settles, eyes wide and blank, an awful rattle hissing out of her parted lips. The hollow thing burns away like a doll made of papier-mache put to the torch. A figure stands in the middle of the park, resolving out of the deeper darkness. She drags herself upwards, slowly standing straight as if in great pain. She's tall and lean, with the body of a fighter. Her complexion is tanned, her exposed skin bearing dozens of pale, straight scars. She wears what must have been a kimono, once, black and grey, terminating at the knee with asymmetrical cuts hacked out of it all over as if someone had attacked her with a sword and only just missed. It lacks a sleeve on her right side, and the remaining cloth on the left is tightly bound around her forearm with a knotted length of blood-red cord. She regards Cu Chulainn with brilliant emerald eyes. Her hair falls messily to her shoulders, a brilliant scarlet that gives her an imperious air. She clenches her fist -- her right fist, wrought out of black rock made in the shape of a hand. Brass filigree enwraps it, running into and around joints, a spidery pattern that would be beautiful if the shape wasn't somehow disquieting. There is no sign of flesh below her elbow on that hand, and no point where it seems it is an obvious replacement. It is simply part of her. "My name is Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris," she declares in a powerful voice. The air around her cracks and ripples, an aura of flickering green the color of an infernal sun worming its way into this world from the heart of another. It whirls with the color of bruises, swimming in her expanding aura. "Chosen of the Ebon Dragon, Shadow of All Things." She steps forward. The metal lamppost near her instantly tarnishes. A tree begins to warp, twisted into something covered in green verdigris. Grass beneath her feet dries, cracking, then breaking like glass when the slightest pressure is applied. "Daughter of Kimbery, The Sea That Marched Against The Flame." Light posts in the park sputter and die, casting long shadows. She remains visible, but her silhouette is twisted and terrifying. "Champion of Hell." "I just thought you should know," she tells the three of them, voice suddenly pitching upwards, a little light. "So you aren't left wondering who has come to kill your ghosts." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Tidings explodes into motion with a scream. Green runes flare up on her brass-and-stone arm, blazing with the same viridian light that her anima casts. They intensify abruptly, leaping off her arm and whirling around it in a tornado of green fire, ancient written characters of some vile poetry orbiting the strange limb. She clips a lamp post as she closes the gap towards Cu Chulainn, brushing it aside like it was a stray branch. It and its moorings are torn out of the ground, sent tumbling across the park. Her speed is his speed, and her strength... it's simply unnatural. She turns both against him. Furious swipes of her monstrous hand crash down on him, faster than even he was for the longest three seconds in recent history. A half-dozen terrible blows rain down, each one accompanied by a greenish solar flare and a tea-kettle shriek of the flames that crawl up her inhuman arm and across her body. She uses no precision technique, no finesse; she just attacks, letting loose with a startling flurry of ultraviolence meant to reduce Lancer to a smear across the wet and dying grasslands. But from behind her, Deelel and Felt can see that the sure-kill technique was not, in fact, tricked. There's a hole bored in her back, with bloody rents in her flesh that weep crimson pain spiderwebbed out from it. It looks like it was a mirror that was broken against someone's flesh. It looks like it isn't slowing her down. 

:'''{{#var:6645|Cu Chulainn (6645)}} has posed:''' Empty Tidings dodges, and dodges, and teleports out of the way of his strike. But, in the end, Gae Bolg prevails. Or atleast, it looks like it did...but Empty Tidings defies death. Cu Chulainn grimaces, but he's already feeling the weakening. Felt's grin of victory becomes one of worry as he just lost his third Command Seal...and their enemy, who has revealed herself as some sort of demon princess, is coming full force. Her speed makes it difficult for Cu Chulainn o dodge, especially with his weakness, and so the flurry of superpowered blows smashes ino the Servant, bloodying him to a pulp. He'd probably die. Probably die if his Master wasn't all kinds of reckless. Felt swoops in, moving to grab Cu Chulainn and /yank/ him out of the way. Cu Chulainn gets his footing long enough to then proceed to grab Felt and run. The pair move to beat it through alleys, literally just trying to live right now. They'll report about their success (the group getting Foreigner out of the way) and their failure (not defeating Empty Tidings, losing /all three/ Command Seals) once they're safe and pumping Cu full of mana back home. But even then, their bond has been strengthened by that...so there's something positive out of the Command Seal usage, atleast. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Felt lives, and pulls one hell of a stunt with his command seals, Cu turns about and turns his terrible wrath upon Empty Tidings. She'll ready her Keyblades as she Reveals herself on this she just stares as a name she know is dropped. The Ebon Dragon and she does not die, she did know her. She sees Empty is not down yet, her being in on this? Speaks many volumes of bad things. There is a spike of fear for August. She moves getting ready to fight, Cu goes down as she counters attack or it seems like. BGG Derezzed https://youtu.be/F4eccPBFEjE Deelel stops several hard light machines rez into being, wire lines to full on machinery they look like speakers, why yes they do and they kick it up to full blast with a song from the only two music programs on the Grid she would admit to being better than her, the Twins. The sound is directed at Empty as Hopefully a distraction. "So this is you." That is Deelels only comment as she's got her Keyblade in one hand and goes for her ID Disc in the other hand and changes at Empty Tidings. The attacks are rapid fast and utterly inhuman in how fast she's striking, Keyblade and ID Disc in tandem, over and over again. She throws a few spells into it up close, fire most notably with some Lighting as her chain of attacks keep going. "I am Deelel Multi Media Program." She does not stop with her attacks, she's for all intents dealing with a virus with what she knows of Creation. Stopping might mean death for her and everyone else. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The gunfire wasn't enough to drop the Foreigner. She knew it wouldn't be, but she just didn't have the wherewithal to do more. As he takes his leave and the unnatural wracking of the harbor relents, Riva looks around, sagging with relief as she sees that they've been spared. For now. "This is going to be a serious problem." She mutters to herself as she looks around... And with a long, internal groan, forces herself to get moving and see if she can find anyone else in need of rescue. And THEN she is going to pig out and then collapse with a nice book or something. Something that has nothing to do with those terrible eyes, the memories burning in her head like star-sparks. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Cu Chulainn will be tasting brass and pavement for a week. He will also unfortunately be alive long enough to do just that. Felt charges in heroically. Tidings turns her eyes to him, flaring in red-hot fury. A black disk like a hole to nothingness rests upon her brow, painful to look upon. It's a good thing he probably isn't dumb enough to look back. "Two heroes dying pointlessly for one another? I think I'm going to especially enjoy this~." She stalks towards him, lips drawn back to show her teeth. It's not quite a grin. It's too feral for that. Deelel interrupts her plans with a blast of sound. Her eyes flick towards the source, and then her head follows, an unnatural sequence for a simple twist. She turns to face her, eyeing that Keyblade and Disc combo. The weapons are unusual. She's only gleaned a basic understanding of them in the time they've been fighting. Her knuckles pop, and she steps forward to meet her. Deelel clashes with the furious Exalt, and it is a thing of terrible beauty to look upon. Mechanical precision and practiced skill with the weapons of the Grid and beyond meet a monster whose fury is beyond all comprehension. Metal and solidified memory clash against black stone and gleaming brass. Flesh tears, scattering blood and inky shadow, but they meet again and again, crashing together even amidst the elemental torrent that she weaves past and charges through. Deelel manages to force her back towards the overlook. The unnatural tide has withdrawn, leaving the park muddy. Tidings is illuminated by the Malfean sun that burns in her soul, cast outward on waves of putrid Essence. Something like blood drips down her arms, spattering onto concrete and sizzling as it eats through it. She breathes hard, but the mounting injury seems to just make her angrier. That's when the Foreigner appears, addressing her as 'Madam Princess.' She regards him, and her fury melts away. She suppressed a cringe, looking frankly embarrassed to be seen this way, but composes herself. She speaks to him lowly and politely, and he vanishes. She does, too. The world just stutters for a second, and she's gone, leaving only destruction behind her... and a Program with quite the story to tell. 
}}

5970/Red Sky At Morning

2018-08-10T06:20:11Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/08/09 |Location=Exalted-9999 - The West |Synopsis=Heroes attack a Lintha barge to rescue hostages. It turns out to be a little more complicate..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/08/09
|Location=Exalted-9999 - The West
|Synopsis=Heroes attack a Lintha barge to rescue hostages. It turns out to be a little more complicated than that.
|Cast of Characters=1151, 1161, 6384, 6381, 6, 495, 1139, 513
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The 'River Sprite' is a small, agile, single-masted dhow with a crew of about a dozen. At present, it has been hired by Empty Tidings to take you just away from the sight of shore, following the pilfered Lintha charts to locate the prison barge that is supposed to pass by this way sometime this morning. Fortunately, Captain Zhao seems to know exactly how to ride the river and the currents near the coast to keep up an impressive speed, and no time is wasted reaching the ideal spot of interception. The mid-morning skies are red, right up until they're grey. Stormclouds roll in, blanketing the horizon in a sheet of rolling grey. Distantly, a shape is visible on the increasingly choppy waves, obscured by fog that it seems to be caught in the leading edge of. It looks like a giant ship, and coming from the direction that the Lintha are supposed to arrive from. That must be the target. Due Giang and Empty Tidings are both standing near the bow of the ship. Due Giang's cloth-wrapped spear is planted against the deck to keep his footing in the uncertain seas, while Empty Tidings stands as perfectly composed as she would be on solid ground. One of the crew is up the mast, clinging with one and and peering out towards the much larger shape on the horizon. His yelling isn't clearly heard at first, waves breaking against the hull prompting Captain Zhao to call up at him again. "...not a ship, Captain! It's /not a ship/!!" 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' All eyes turn forward. The shape finally breaches the fog bank roiling alongside it. Enormous grey shapes seem to rise up out of the sea, grown like shale-colored trees the size of towers. As they become more clear, the shape of it is clear: they /are/ towers, built atop some sort of island of grey stone plates, gathered weeds, and countless layers of barnacles and moss creeping up like grass over a hard, curving surface. The waves crash against it, and it is unmoved. The 'prison barge' is more like a keep set adrift. The surf gets choppier the closer it gets, its wake as colossal as it is, splitting the sea as it looms over the comparatively miniscule ship. At the front of it, something breaks the surface of the waves: a head, covered in rocky hide, and with a figure draped in rich colors riding near the pointed beak of the creature. It isn't a ship, and it isn't an island... but it is some sort of titanic turtle, of a truly mind-boggling size, set to work hauling this slab of dry land from place to place. "We should turn back," Captain Zhao says. "Shouldn't we? We are, are we not?" "Of course not. This is what we were after." Empty Tidings steps up to the ship's prow, raising her voice. It carries over the surface of the sea like she had a megaphone just for being heard in this singular circumstance. "Demon!" she yells. "Your purification is at hand! Come forth! Face the light of judgement and meet your end with honor!" A man's voice answers, booming, "Judgement? Purification? /Honor/? You speak your own death, riverlander! None may set eyes on this glorious hold but the Lintha and live to tell the tale!" The giant turtle-fort turns ponderously, ever so slightly shifting its course. It's headed right for you. Near the tops of the towers, enormous shutters are being thrown open. Something slams into the sea off the port side of the ship, a ballista bolt overshooting the small vessel as the gap rapidly closes between them. Due Giang looks at Tidings like she's lost her mind. She tosses her hair, stepping away from the prow. "What? I heard you do the same, once. I wanted to try it myself." She gestures towards the almost-landmass the ship approaches. "You should do something about that. Slay the leader and I would wager it will be quite simple to control the beast and remove the innocents inside. Simple, no?" "You're insane," Captain Zhao croaks. "You're well-paid," Tidings replies with a smile. Two more bolts land in the sea, closer and closer. The ship weaves through the waters. It's near, but not near enough. It- A turtle fin breaks the surface and slams back down. An enormous swell sends the ship rolling, nearly capsizing the vessel. Due Giang gets flung overboard, crashing into the sea. Tidings, on her way below deck, stops, turns, and dives into the ocean after him. You should probably do something about the giant demon-controlled monster before you're all reduced to turtle feed. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu stands, in human form, on the deck, staring up at the enormous beast-driven prison. His eyes lift to the towers as Empty Tidings shouts at it. He breathes a sigh and brings a hand up to his face, pressing his fingertips to his forehead and jawbone in an expression of exasperation at Empty Tidings' reasoning about it. Then he says, "Well, fuck it, I guess."     A flash of light comes from him, and there stands the dragon that did some serious damage to the Due Giang's group one fateful night, a dragon of fae wings and bizarre eyes. He crouches, and launches off the boat with titanic force, the ship likely to list a little from the impact. The reason? He darts toward the nearest anti-ship weapon enclosure, and tries to slam into the weapon(s, probably) with the force of a railgun-launched cannonball, dragon claws and sheer momentum used to their utmost potential. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Like anyone really expected things to go as planned. Mind you, Orchid's money was on things going wrong AFTER they had gotten on board the prison ship, but she did have a feeling she'd need more than her usual tools. To that end while she has brought the camera drones that are her usual method of dealing with things, the boxes she opened contain not spiders, but bats. She starts launching these, sending them swarming around the ramparts of the fortress, conveying the information to her, and letting her convey the locations of things like defenders, siege weapons, and other things they might want to hit, to her allies and friends. In particular, she's giving Ryu information he'll need to see where to hit for best results. She isn't thrown from the ship just yet, clinging onto the rail. Sure, she won't drown, but still sinking would be inconvenient. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     CLUNK!     Nova drops the somewhat large weapons case down on the deck beside her. She kneels down to open it, but pauses for a moment as she winces a little. She rubs her leg through her suit for a moment, before opening the case and reaching into it. Producing a thin cylindrical object, she presses it against the skin of her neck, producing a hissing sound.     Throwing the expended Stimpack over the edge of the ship into the waters beyond, Nova shakes of the initial feeling. She then begins to prepare her equipment, attaching small compartments to her suit. She's listening while she works, pausing for a moment as Tidings' voice booms out through the megaphone. Once she is finished, Nova chuckles, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Announce your assault to the entire prison-"     Nova finally looks up to see what Zhao meant when he said it wasn't a ship. Her eyes go a little wide at the sight of the large animal, "... Creature?" Some worlds are weird.     Nova returns to equipping herself, pulling her inactive psi-blade out and attaching it to the back of her suit. Finally she grabs her Canister Rifle and stands, sliding a clip into it and pulling the bolt back to chamber a round. She's ready.     Nova looks up, surprise quickly registering on her face at the sight of the large wave quickly flowing towards them. Like a number of others, Nova quickly turns, runs and leaps from the ship into the water below. Swimming a couple meters down, Nova turns to look up through the water at the boat on the surface as it capsizes.     Nova's head bursts out of the water again as she surfaces, looking around as she says, "Well, shit." Nova starts swimming towards the prison turtle, trying to find a way on-board. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe knew this was nuts, but what were they going to do here on that? Her violet eyes kept watch on the horizon ahead and finally, they are nearing the target. She knows how dangerous things are on Creation. She should not make light of this. She also hears the response to the challenge that was issued. "We'll keep them off, you Captain." She notes to Zhao. "We kind of are with our line of work." She looks to the man who had called out a moment before nad the freaking turtle-forge thing that rises from the waters, this thing is huge she was not expecting something like this. She also sees the wave, and that's when her wings flare out. She hopes her words do not ring hollow though as she takes flight on her red angel-like wings and she rises up over the wave and she starts chanting a spell, golden runes dance about her body as she speaks in badly accented nordic. Then the light rays come ringing down focusing on the head area of the turtle horror as she calls out. "Come lets see what you can do!" She's got to keep his attention her, she must keep it on her. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva probably shouldn't be here. She's fresh from fighting some kind of massive hyperspeed samurai mecha and she's feeling a little down after that. Regeneration can take a lot out of you if you don't want to go into a food coma. She didn't have that luxury, really. Her Watch sources informed her that there was a thing going down. So she's doing the thing. This thing apparently involves crashing straight into a floating prison. "Well crap." Riva says as things lurch back and forth. "Is that a giant turtle? Is this turtles all the way down?" Riva asks rhetorically. Then there's no time for rhetoric as things get smashed and Riva's stomach lurches like the ship does on the waves. "Urk!" She grunts, grimacing. "Okay, no more of that." She leaps from the crow's nest, flipping as she trails golden light that pulses outwards in a hexagonal pattern on impact with the deck, allowing her to land neatly and not like a person who should have just broken their neck or several bones. Straightening, she pushes a hand into a golden ripple and pulls out a large anchor-like weapon, just more angular, like a T with bent sides. The Ajoran Cross is hoisted up onto her shoulder and she grimaces. "Let's get this over with." She says, lunging forward as ballista bolts launch all around her. A moment later, one of the ballista nests gets a dull THUD as tha anchor impacts the side, hooking onto the edge like a grapple. They get approximately three seconds to notice the tether of light and energy before Riva comes in screaming, spinning as the energy bungees her right into the nest. She flips, grabbing up the Cross as she comes down, driving the weapon at the ballista crew in a powerful impact! "HEY ASSHOLES! PAY ATTENTION TO ME! I'M ALL UP IN YOUR FACE!" She yells like a good tank. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      While the fortress approaches from one direction, Due Giang's craft is flanked by another, smaller vehicle. Kicking up a spray of water in its wake, a sleek metal contraption carries All-Seeing Eye to rendezvous with the others. Things become complicated when the ballistae open fire. An angry purple warning flashes across the screen, and the roaring jets of plasma carrying the craft abruptly cut off. It falls to the water, no longer held aloft by spinning turbines but still very much carried by inertia. It slams into the drink, throwing the slender Exalt off. He flies through the air, saved only by a well-timed flick of the wrist.      As the hoverbike floats uselessly upon the water, Eye's whip curls around the mast of the River Sprite. Momentum carries him forward, twirling him around. Two rotations see him standing upon (relatively) firm ground. Safe for the immediate moment, his next concern is the ballistae fired from the towers. "Hold your position," says the Exalt rather nonchalantly to the crew, "And prepare to return fire." This order might seem arrogant at best, and suicidal at worst--but they'll see he means to back it up.      The next bolt which menaces the River Sprite is stopped short. Three limbs--two hands, and one leg--are extended in a graceful, lateral flip. A steel cable whip extends from each. The crackling of purple lightning and the smell of ozone follow immediately after. Upon meeting this electric attack, the heavy projectile is not only turned away, but redirected back at the very tower which fired it. Grinning smugly, Eye makes a smarmy remark. "Let us see if they can withstand their own weapons." Pleased though he might be, the effort of reversing such a cumbersome projectile is somewhat apparent--the man's forehead has sprouted a champagne diamond, which sparks and crackles with tiny tendrils of electricity. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     With her black hair and highly mixed ethnicity, the guise Finna's chosen might be easily mistaken for a bastard scion of the Blessed Isle sown in An-Teng. Her attire is a mixture of some local fashion elements sprinkled atop more robust traveler's leathers, and the crew would know her only as Gale. She's been quite merry throughout most of the trip, joking and even flirting with some of the sailors.     She's not afraid of the West's Storm Mothers, who should know better than to interfere with the voyage of one of Luna's Chosen.     She's on the decks, clinging tightly to what to most eyes (only the very sharpest have a chance to tell otherwise) is an ordinary-seeming but high quality longbow of a heft that her lithe body would seem unsuited to.     But if anyone dared question her on that, she'd shoot the hat off their head in a heartbeat with it.     When their target finally is in view... and revealed to be some kind of GIANT TURTLE FORTRESS.. she gapes a bit. Then... grins.     It's not a happy grin. More than a little nervous. She might have to reveal herself and skip the disguise here...     She almost feels sorry for Zhao, who's been dragged into a matter that mortals aren't suitable for. A pang of compassion fires up as the waves crash over the boat and the boat rocks terribly, but the girl known as Gale just hops straight up and adjusts her stance with a kind of crazy lean that keeps her from either being hurled off or toppling over. When the boat starts rocking BACK towards the turtle... she controls her slide forward towards the boat's railing while pulling arrows from her quiver and nocking them quickly.     Arrows with oily, glistening tips. Definitely poisoned.     Somehow she's got FOUR of them all drawn at once, and so she takes aim and releases them all at once for the Turtle's apparent master!     There's no flash of anima, no overt sign that the arrows are more than they seem... but they cut through the sky with prodigious speed and accuracy, as if riding wind currents that only Gale could sense were there to exploit!     "We'll have to take the beast for ourselves to get back to land at this rate!" 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Ryu's charge parts mist and hammers into one of the towers. He hits a ballista just shy of head-on, ripping the arms and the cable-like bowstring off the enormous weapon. A pair of operators get tossed out the far window, toppling down towards the sea with echoing screams. The entire room seems to shake from his impact, and it only takes a couple more strikes to reduce the weapon to splinters. Which is when the entire room drops out of the tower. It falls like an elevator set into free-fall, the stone floor and ceiling seemingly connected by growths of coral allowing both to get dragged down simultaneously. If Ryu doesn't do something quick, he's going to get smashed against the ground a long ways below, and it isn't going to be pretty! Meanwhile, bats swarm the place. It's... big. It's hard to see all of it, even from up high. The siege engine crews are numerous, and can be spotted out. It looks like it's all enclosed by curtain walls that run up to the sea. Orchid can also spot what looks like a bunch of soldiers escorting a mob of men and women dressed in orange and white being hastily escorted into one of the central structures. Archers begin to take to the walls. They also begin to take shots at the bats. Bats don't go out to sea quite like that. Maybe try seagulls next time? Tomoe's light rays strike home. The massive beast's head turns, eyes closing and a rumbling noise rolling through the air like long, basso thunder. It dips its head towards the sea, the brightly-colored figure atop it jumping back and running up onto the shell as the vulnerable turtle-head submerges. Up close, she can see that he isn't wearing bright clothes at all: he's technically naked, but covered in coral growths that mimic armor grown from his flesh from nearly all his exposed skin from the chest down. It's a beautiful array of colors, but the actual shapes make him out to be covered in hooks and barbs. He unlimbers a huge, curved sword from his back. The man yells, swinging it horizontally, sweeping it back and forth and sending cuts of sprayed liquid shooting into the air like watery bolts. It's got a sheen like oil on the surface of the water, each bolt launched like a collection of anti-air shells towards Tomoe, and, upon connection, she'll find that they burn like the awful contact poison they are. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Seagulls might have been a better choice, but the list of robot animals Orchid could call on for this mission didn't include anything that looked like a bird. Still, they're doing their jobs, gathering information even as they are shot out of the sky. About half of them keep doing that, while the other half start dive-bombing the crew-served weapons. They are sacrficial in this battle, and will jam themselves into the workings, if that's what it takes to stop them... but mostly they're attacking the springs such weapons require, those being the weakest parts.      As for the reploid herself, she's still on the ship, waiting for the right moment to cross over. She's also relaying what she's seeing. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Riva does the Riva Thing. That involves charging something that ought not be charged from a range that ought not be easily traversed. Obviously, she does not care about words like 'ought,' which ought not be used quite as much as they have been in the last two sentences, because she's suddenly right up in their grill. The impact knocks one of the crew members clear off the nest. The other two are only momentarily stunned. One gets up in her face, yelling, mouth opening unnaturally wide and pointed serpent's teeth put on display as he waves a long, broad knife threateningly. She has reach, and he isn't a problem. More problematic is the fact that the other one has swung the ballista around and pointed it right at her at point blank range. Now would be a good time to duck. Nearby, another tower gets slammed by a return bolt. Eye's flung shot tears out one of the walls supporting the roof, tilting it over and sending it falling towards the wall. The stone rooftop cracks the battlement, smashing the walkway and carving a dip out in the relatively thin wall, a V-shaped chunk ripped off and exposing a gap that Lintha defenders stagger away from rather than rushing to fill. It's not quite down to sea level, but it's absolutely an opening to get inside... The nearest towers occupied as they are, it's on the archers to return fire -- which they do, in staggered masses, sending arrows towards the ship and peppering the deck and those on it. The sailors have taken cover, some returning fire blindly with self bows while other scream, the V-shaped arrowheads biting flesh and leaving awful wounds. Eye might be more resilient than most, but even he has to worry about sheer volume. Meanwhile, more attention is drawn towards the man who just vacated the turtle head. Not!Finna sees her arrows strike home, two sticking into the coral armor of the man, one hacked out of the air with a sweep of his daiklave, and the last catching him in an exposed portion of flesh just over his ribs. The poison... doesn't seem to slow him down. He bleeds, but he bleeds an iridescent fluid that isn't quite like blood. He points his daiklave at the ship. A bubble of some kind forms at the tip, and then launches like a catapult shot in an arc towards the vessel. It splashes over the deck near her and quite possibly over her, a dose of vicious poison for her own body to deal with. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva doesn't stop for a moment as she crashes into the crew. The one that opens up that mouth full of serpent's teeth causes her to squint. "You know, the whole 'maw' thing probably isn't you." She quips, bringing the Cross around and slamming it down onto the knife-wielder with a brilliant SMASH. "But I guess you won't be worrying about that, huh?" She asks. A moment later, she hears an Ominous Creak and gets a bad feeling about this. "Um..." She looks up right into the ballista, and blinks. "Aw flugelhorn." She says, moments before it fires. The ballista bolt uncoils, slamming right into her and sending her flying back off the edge of the tower... Or rather, it would, except the Cross clangs into the edge of the edifice. Slowly, with a pained grunt, she pulls herself back up. This is probably not something a normal person would be doing, since a normal person would be missing half their body right now. Riva, comparatively, only has a massive bloody gash down one side of her body. An improvement! "Well. That was rude." She comments. "Warranted! But rude." She grimaces... But doesn't waste any time charging in again, bringing her hammer-cross up in a two-handed swing to try to crush the ballista itself this time! No more of that 'getting shot with artillery' thing! 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova cautiously swims up to the edge of the creature, beginning to quietly climb up its surface as the battle ranges around her. She's hoping the defenders are too distracted by the attackers that they don't notice a single person slipping aboard the prison. Spotting an opening creates by All-Seeing Eye, Nova climbs towards it.     Reaching the edge of the V-hole, Nova peers over it, spotting a number of defenders in the vicinity. While they might not be immediately at the hole, they still present a threat should they try to put a few arrows in her. So reaching down to the suit compartment attached to her leg, Nova pulls out a small cylindrical device. Activating it, she throws it through the hole in the wall. It bounces towards the nearby defenders before unleashing a blast of light and energy to disorient the group.     After her flashbang takes effect, Nova pulls herself up to jump through the opening and land on the other side. She quickly makes a dash towards the nearest defender, attempting to bring her hands up to his head. She applies a quick twist to break his neck, before retrieving the rifle on her back and beginning to fire at the others. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe was moving to get attention here and it seems to have done it quite well she has the beast and it's mater attention long enough for her to draw fire from some sort of anti-air weapon? That's going to be painful and it is, she's burning, a poison status appears on her HUD for a moment and she can't do much about it before she moves to make dive bombing attack for the man who barked out the orders. With Caliburn in hand she'll make for launching a sword at the man launching into a series of lighting sword attacks and even throwing a shield bash into the mix. Even as she still sizzles from the poison she's been hit with. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      A literal tide of arrows comes coasting over the horizon. All-Seeing Eye frowns. That could be problematic. Targeting charms boot up, and each staggered volley of arrows is awash in purple targeting reticules. Parabolic arcs trail from each projectile mid-flight, while a one-word assessment flashes indignantly across his vision, in glaring capital letters. INADVISABLE      As more volleys are launched and the first of them grows nearer, more and more warning signs appear--red crosses and yellow triangles appear with increasing frequency. These are ignored. Arrows hit the deck, escaping his grasp, striking sailors around him. He twirls upon what limited space is available to him, striking out with one hand, the other, both at once, even a leg. Every move is deliberate, calculated towards the purpose of reflecting as many arrows as possible. He does indeed reflect as many as he can, but a few volleys in, the staggered attack and the sheer volume thereof begin to work against him.      Arrows tear his kimono and leave festering wounds, his black lifeblood sizzling in some manner of chemical reaction. A few strike him directly, making a grotesque pincushion out of him and further staining the silken garment. Still--through twirling the whips so fast as to make them appear as solid discs, he manages to reflect a portion back. "I have no means of getting closer," says the Exalt with mild annoyance. With a look over at a blind-firing sailor, he adds, "If you wish to survive this, I highly suggest improving your middling aim and keeping this vessel afloat."      The exertion becomes just as obvious as his annoyance. Now, dark stormclouds begin to gather at his feet, swirling slowly around him as the gem in his forehead crackles almost constantly. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Oh crap! 'Gale' splutters at the display of what might well be DEMON SORCERY and throws her hands up to shield her eyes, nose, and mouth. Not that it does much good... the poison deluge drenches her just the same, working its evil through skin pores. A shiver of pain lances through her, mixed with nausea and dizziness... and she just tumbles overboard, down into the drink with a lopsided SPLASH!     Thankfully, seawater is much kinder than demonic poison.     And down there under the water, the Lunar decides... 'screw it.'     The ocean depths shimmer weirdly, displaying a light from within. A silver-blue-purple gleam ripples up to the surface--     And then, the surface ERUPTS. A sleek shape ROCKETS skywards! It's Finna, having ditched the Gale disguise. Moonlight burns in streams from her skin, causing tribal tattooos to shine through her huntress leathers. She appears to have DOLPHIN KICKED herself into a high-speed rise, and uses that momentum to ARC HIGH OVER the turtle and start coming back down onto its back. From high in the air, wreathed in a rainbow effect of ocean spray, she takes aim and fires with a mystical bow that does not care how wet it gets, a storm arrows that scream through the air like hungry beasts!     And with all that misty water spray around her, it's REALLY hard to get a fix on exactly where in the air she is. Even while squinting her location twists and distorts, refusing to be pinned down. Returning fire with conventional means at that angle may prove difficult! 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The bats, as juicy targets as they are, apparently decide to go for the gold. They dive down into the works, hitting springs and damaging the solid but still vulnerable portions of the siege engines. It's a more precise way of gumming up the engines of war on the wall, but it seems to be doing the job. That /does/ leave them vulnerable, though: the siege engineers brandish large knives and hammers, smashing and stabbing the robotic bats as they close in, trying to keep them away so they can fix what's getting broken. Arrows continue to rain down on the ship even still. Orchid isn't going to be able to stay safely ensconced in the careening vessel for much longer. She's going to run out of bats! Unless, that is, Nova has something to say about it. She goes unnoticed getting up to the wall, and only gets spotted when the flashbang abruptly illuminates her position by pointing at the presence of someone near the hole in the wall who could have deployed such a weapon. The people with the bows are a mix of humans and what are presumably Lintha, bearing small but distinctly aquatic mutations among them. She's pretty sure the one she snapped the neck of had gills. The others react remarkably well to the presence of gunfire, given they're using bows. They dive for hard cover, putting barrels apparently full of sand between themselves and Nova -- the lucky ones, anyway. Others scramble and don't make it, getting holes put in them before their fellows get a chance to lean out of cover and return fire with their short bows. They're quick on the draw, and fairly accurate to boot; obviously, they've had a lot of practice up close and far away. The engineers, on the other hand, don't so much. Riva is pulling herself up and they're hastily trying to reload. She catches them just as they're angling to get a bolt in, and they stop in their tracks, staring at the person who should by all rights have no lower body. Riva swings up, and then down, and splinters the ballista with an unholy racket. The floor cracks from the impact. The engineers stagger. One of them, feeling particularly clever, kicks the remains of the machine. The tightly-coiled spring abruptly unhooks and fires at Riva with all that potential energy like something out of a cartoon. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu is not expecting the entire room to enter freefall, and he isn't strong enough to stop a stone structure from taking him with it. The dragon squeals in terror as he plummets down into a crash of debris and noise... There's a bunch of blood in there! And then, he breaks free of stonework with a decisive BOOM, and his wings snap open. The dust clearing reveals several wounds from the painful impact, his skeletal structure visibly and rapidly mending just so he can stay in the fight, off-color blood dribbling off his form.     He lifts one hand, squinting toward the next tower of ballistas... and he fires a great big, sustained LIGHTNING BOLT, toward it and any near targets with his left hand, the whole sky lighting up briefly and a rumble shaking the air. He's trying to deal with one of the weapons without getting trapped in a deadfall again. Unfortunately, this also makes him an open target. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      The bats are there to be destroyed, if that's what it takes to accomplish the mission. For her part, Orchid has gathered enough information, and jumps on her rocket surfboard. She's heading across to the fortress, aiming for the top of the structure in the middle, looking for a way down and in. But on the way over the walls, she makes sure to pass by one of the catapults, and as her bats distract the engineers, she'll use her sonic screwdriver to try and make sure it stays ruined by shattering the main arm. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova is on the run! She's already trying to make her way towards the center of the prison where the prisoners were spotted earlier. Of course she has annoying arrows to deal with. Ideally she should be behind cover, but it's hard to both move and stay behind cover at the same time. So Nova hopes her speed and the fact that the enemy's weapon of choice is slow moving arrows will make her a hard target. And indeed, Nova manages to sprint past most of the arrows fired her way. Still, a few arrow heads do slice through her suit on their way past as they just barely hit.     Even as Nova moves, under fire, she is also returning said fire. She has her Canister Rifle in automatic mode, the weapon barking out the large bullets in the direction of her assailants. Even if they are behind the cover of those sand filled barrels, the large 25mm rounds are going to be putting holes in said barrels, wearing down said cover. Assuming a poor defender doesn't pick the wrong time to poke his head out and thus lose it. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The arrows that Eye launches back hit the walls and battlements, penetrating the stone covering and turning the exterior into a pincushion -- to say nothing for the men on the walls themselves. A half-dozen archers are cut down in the first volley, and another three or four don't emerge after the next. One of the walls facing the ship is mostly clear of opposition, though it isn't the damaged one. But that's good enough. "You heard him!" Captain Zhao yells. "Don't waste arrows, or I'll have you swim for all the ones that hit water!" He's at the rudder. The remaining sailors make sure the sail is down, and the growing wind the Lintha arrows seem to ignore catches it. The ship gains speed, having been drifting straight forward for too long, veering towards the massive shape. The turtle lifts a fin again. Zhao is better prepared for it this time. It slaps down again, and the ship rides the wave, cresting it straight through, the bow practically leaping out of the water. Eye will have to hold on tight, or he might get either thrown overboard or slammed against the deck as the ship's captain does the equivalent of sick wheelies in his wind-powered sail boat. Meanwhile, lightning strikes out of the storm. It doesn't seem to be too unusual, except it strikes the top of a tower and blows it to pieces. The interior of the upper chamber erupts into flames, and it turns into a blazing torch that the Lintha guardians do their best to keep away from. Ryu has a moment to enjoy the sight of one less siege engine harassing their ride. Until a trio of burly men with spears start hurling weighted nets into the remains of the room. There's a door opened near 'ground' level, and they're clearly piling on large amounts of weight to try and entangle him to make for an easy kill. They have no idea how strong he actually might be. This could be a problem. Tomoe dive bombs the leader adorned in coral and carrying a massive sword at the same time Finna explodes up out of the water. Both of them see the sword more clearly up close: a great, heavy brass weapon, with some kind of iridescent oily substance leaking off the edge. He swings it around like it was feather-light, despite being at least half his size. It's clearly some kind of artifact weapon, but it doesn't look like any kind of magical material normally seen around here... Arrows come down. The man spins the blade, shedding the oily substance in the air all around him. Arrows hit it and turn into hissing splinters, the acidic spray corriding and dissolving the storm and turning it from a lethal volley into something he can clearly handle. Four shafts thud into him, stitching up his right side. He staggers, muscles spasming from the sudden cut and impact, letting Tomoe get in close -- He raises his sword, intercepting hers with a metallic clash and a spray of acidic droplets. He fights her one-handed, raising his others and shattering the arrows that stick out of his coral-grown body. More growths seem to well up from the wounds, assembling miniature reefs in fast-forward while their blades come together again and again. The man steps into her swings. He takes a shallow cut to one side, the edge of her blade scraping across the hardened carapace. He gets both hands on his daiklave and swings it overhand, a deadly but easily-intercepted hammerblow -- followed by a second, and a third, each one sending superhumanly powerful shocks of raw force through Tomoe's body, as if trying to break it apart from the inside. He slips back a half-step, shouting something in a language that sounds old and vile and /hateful/ -- to Finna. Tomoe hears him yell a gutteral noise that doesn't mean anything. Finna hears syllables that mean HATE and LOATHING and DISGUST in equal, overwhelming measure. They make her ears hurt. They make her head hurt. They make her lungs hurt, filling with the same poison he cast at her with every syllable he spitefully spits. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The good news: The ballista is being smashed. The bad news: ENGINEERING. The tension spring unhooks, smashing into Riva. The Anima-Wielder is powerful, but Isaac Newton is the meanest son of a bitch in Lintha territory, too. Damn that Isaac Newton! Riva, for her part, ends up launched off the Tower, flying off of it with a gleaming wave of light. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAHhhhhhhhhhhh-" The sound of her voice vanishes for several moments into the middle of the storm. The conflict with the Lintha Leader is intense and potent. Highly dramatic and possibly rather deadly. However, this is all about to change in some weird direction as a noise grows. "-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGH!" She cries, as she drops right down upon the leader in a ballistic arc, slamming down to try to weaponize her near-slapstick launch into the air! Simply. Direct. But effective? Well, that's to be seen. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     A /net/ lands on Ryu. His wings flutter, and he slams into the surface of the floating prison, bruised and deeply, deeply upset with what just happened. As the Lintha pirates approach to try and finish him off, they run face-first into a dragon viciously shredding their net. His claws flash like daggers in the air, sending scraps of the net in all directions. And then he pops toward them and whips through the air, moving like a blur. Several extremely loud SNAP noises sound off as he whips his tail at their arms and legs to disable them completely. When he lands from his attack, he launches himself into the structure of the prison itself...     He has to make sure to track down those damn hostages. They're the whole reason the party showed up. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     If there's one kind of assault Finna wasn't expecting, it was deadly words. Although somehow she had managed to greatly slow her descent... those words hit her with terrific force. She doubles over in midair and tumbles from the sky, slamming into the turtle's back with a bone-jarring *WHANPF!*     Dazed and with a glassy look in her eyes she flips to her feet in lopsided fashion... and furrows her wearying brow. Gags and burbles. Brings both hands to her neck desperately...     And then SLAMS her right foot to the ground. The silvery aura burns even brighter, the mark of the moon now blazing from her forehead.     It begins from her legs and moves upwards. A rippling and tensing of muscle. The tattoos flare, her legs bulge then tighten again... then thighs... then waist...     It's a ripple of bulging and contracting, resculpting muscle... but what for?     Eventually this wave reaches her neck, and then she opens her maw wide--     And VOMITS OUT a fountain of hateful sea tincture, purging her innards of the concoction before it can do any more damage. But that's not all. Her body ripples with a sleek power, glowing vividly with life. And anyone whose combat instincts are honed enough can just TELL that this... is... BAD NEWS.     If you were her enemy, that is.     "Demon-Blooded bastard... you've just sealed your fate." Whether he could notice it before or not, well, it's visible now. Her fuzzy ears are standing up straight and practically vibrating with adrenaline and rage. She tucks the bow away to Elsewhere and leans down, gathering what's left of her strength and giving the air a warning slash with her Claws of the Silver Moon. Power gathers in her bunched legs like a coiling spring, and then... springs forward, beastly teeth clenched tightly into a snarling show of pure, relentless fury!     She's upon the warrior in a flash of silvery motion, claws glowing with armor-rending fury with pure intent to rip into his throat and savage his windpipe so he cannot speak again so soon. At the same time, her other claw seeks to bury into his sword arm and slice through muscles and tendons to cripple his swings!     Unless quickly fended off, she simply becomes a whirlwind of savage strikes with all the ferocity of a beast of the deep wilderness! 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      Due Giang might have been ready for the wave, but Eye certainly wasn't. When the vessel pitches and rears upwards, he loses his footing. Considering there are arrows sticking out of him, this is all the more unfortunate. His back slams into the deck, thrusting three arrows further into his body. The heads pierce his bare chest from the inside in a gruesome display. He rolls across the sheer surface, leaving a black smear and digging scrape marks into the deck as the arrowheads grind against it. The mast stops his freefall rather abruptly, smashing into his stomach. A low, guttural groan of pain escapes him, but when the craft is on level footing again, so is he.      With one hand nursing the spot, Eye gives Due Giang a nod of acknowledgment. Breaking into a sprint, he leaps off of the front of the boat in a nimble somersault, his feet landing upon the turtle's fin. Steel cables at the ready, he hits the ground running, traversing the length of the sea creature's appendage until the walls are within his reach. Springing off of the fin, his ornamental sandals briefly scrabble for purchase against the wall, his whips lashing upwards to ensnare the masonry and pull him the rest of the way up. By now, the storm clouds have risen to his waist, and swirl violently around him, purple flashes of lightning illuminating the bilious mass. "Hello!~" He offers the guards upon the wall a cordial wave, fingers waggling playfully.      His anima flares again, another flash of lightning. Another targeting charm is loaded up, and his vision is overlaid with a purple grid. Squares upon this grid occupied by the forms of guards are filled in, and the program begins prioritizing heads and vitals. A purple line traces between the forms of the guards, criss-crossing between them and bouncing off of stone walls, armor, helmets and any other solid surface.      The Exalt's golden eyes are replaced by dark steel nozzles, and a barrage of lightning blasts streams forth, zipping between guards and obstacles alike, with some of them even bouncing off of one object (or guard) to strike a foe behind him. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Ryu does his best impression of a dragon-shaped wrecking ball, smashing through the opportunists with the kind of speed and strength they were hoping to curtail with the nets. If any of them recover from the battering they just took, they're going to have a hard time coming up with a better net to deal with him. As it stands, they're reduced to crumpled heaps rather quickly, and he's given free reign to search the place. Fortunately, it seems to be pretty centuralized... Running and gunning works. The canister rifle is a frankly too-large weapon to deal with the problem, blowing apart cover and felling unlucky Lintha who get even clipped by the rounds that would be more at home on an Earth aircraft circa 1944. Nova gets through the arrows, fighting her way deeper inside, and finds the interior buildings are built very close together, making it easy to get away from the archers as soon as she hits hard cover. She gets to a central courtyard at the same time Orchid does -- though instead of people's limbs, Orchid pops a couple of large bolts off a catapult they hadn't managed to rotate into position just yet, putting it out of commission on her way in. The courtyard is made of square stone panels, a flat surface on the otherwise curving setup of the place. A large building made of stout wood and reinforced with stone and wood sits in the middle of it, with iron-banded double doors barring entry. Or they would, if they weren't open. A group of Lintha are standing in front of it, swords and spears pointed at the door. In front of it stands Due Giang, soaking wet, but gripping a spear made of transparent glass in both hands, visible due to the blood glazing the tip. He's fighting a defensive battle, keeping the mob of demon-pirates from getting inside, and has quite clearly taken a number of minor hits in the process. Flickers of golden firelight flicker around his hands now and again, making his spear ignite like a flare for a span of seconds as he whips it back and forth to intercept blows. Some of them turn away. They spot the incoming heroes. A couple snap off shots from bows, while a half-dozen others run out to meet them, spears and short swords stabbing and slashing. Ryu arrives just as the melee is starting up, threatening to drag the three of them into it -- especially if they want to get into a building with, it would seem, only one way in and one way out, presently the locus of combat in this part of the floating fortress. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is doing a fine job of getting attention here, it seems to be doing well enough to keep them on her but it's got a price for her to pay. She gets a hell of a hit, she not sure how he moves the blad that fast but it's creation so she accepts is. She has to focus on responding now, she makes her bid to respond, the hits score hard even with her being ready for it. She intercepts several of the blows but the force of the impacts still hurt her, hell the last one does hit her hard so hard part of her body distorts into screaming red wireframe, something that should not happen to someone made of flesh or metal. It hurts a hell of a lot as well she's in pain but the hate he has for Finna? That is new that is unexpected and she will take this moment to try and press the attack herself before something worse happens to her. "SWORD DRIVER!" She lets loose with only a single powerful swing of her blade. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu arrives to a melee, and comes to a landing near them all. He holds up his arms to shield his face from any mortal blows put toward him. Arrows slam into him, but then fall free from his body with bloody dribbling, and he avoids the spears carefully to keep from getting locked down. Then, he coils like a spring, and something happens in the blink of an eye. He vanishes from normal view, and dozens of lines of silvery light fill the melee, trying to cut down the Lintha with bestial efficiency for daring to get in range of him. His movements alone can bowl over his foes, and he strikes with decisive ferocity.     And keeps going and going... Trying to minimize the threat to everyone else by just being a murder blender and tiring himself out in the process. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      The reploid takes a twisting, tumbling route over the mob as she seeks to join Due Giang at his side, relying on her surfboard and energy shields to keep herself reasonably intact. But once she gets there... She just stands next to him, holding out her shields.      This is because while she brought less spiders than she otherwise might, she did bring some, and seeded them among the mob of Lintha. If they're going to face her and Due Giang, they will leave themselves open to being tied up, starting from the feet, as the spiders deploy the silk in a variant of the 'tie their shoelaces together' trick. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Captain Zhao gives Eye a little nod, if one that is clearly of a man who is kind of unnerved but doing his best to hold on during an insane situation. He does not at all stop him from getting off the boat, instead focusing on getting his remaining crew to a safe distance. This is probably sensible, given his protection all just went overboard. Eye gets up onto the wall, and is nozzle-to-eye with a very surprised, somewhat bloodied guard. He looks like he's probably the runt of the place, trying to find a place to get away from the murderous mayhem. It does not help. Eye's targeting systems get a number of locks, and there's a scream of an electrical discharge just as the desperate pirate thrusts his sword at the Exalt's midsection. A great number of bodies drop as lightning blasts pinball across the battlements and take archers by surprise. The exterior defenders are culled with terrible efficiency, his assailant included. It's going to take forever to get the stench out of Eye's clothes. The demon-blessed leader of them, up at the edge of shell near the beast's head, fights on. Finna is momentarily put down for the count to deal with that poison, so he focuses on Tomoe. She flashes, and he pauses, uncertain what he's looking at -- and then she counterattacks, dropping a heavy blow on the head of the demon-pirate, whose daiklave is jammed backwards as he loses his footing from the sheer force of the hit. The edge of her sword catches him across the cheek, leaving a bloody cut that cleaves away at the organic armoring as it descends across his body. It also leaves him open to Finna's counterattack. He doesn't get his feet under him before the Lunar is on top of him, ripping and tearing. She doesn't quite get his throat, the barbs and hooks of coral growing out of him catching her and stopping her, bloodying his neck and stopping his recitation quite effectively nonetheless. She tears at his sword-arm and he yells, struggling to get at it with his other hand. He manages to grab hold of it, levering himself away from the shell and getting his feet up, kicking her off of him, bloody wounds apparent -- and spraying, more poison building and bubbling as injuries react like they were under high pressure, simply adding to the toxic build-up in her supernaturally strong body. He gets to his feet. The sword comes back up, raised to his shoulder. He's bleeding profusely, with chunks of his organic exoskeleton torn to pieces. He swipes his sword at Tomoe, flicking acid across her armor to eat it away, and steps in to go for a quick killing blow -- right as Riva hits him from behind, hammering him like a nail. He hits the shell face-first with a cracking sound, going momentarily boneless... and then sliding into the sea, weapon still clutched in a tight grip as he slips beneath the waves. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova quickly makes her way towards the more clustered buildings on the turtle's back. Anything to put something solid between her and those trying to skewer her with arrows. As she reaches the close quarters of the building corridors, Nova slows down a little. She's being cautious, checking the corners while she homes in on the largest source of active minds in the area. Probably the prisoners... Or a big collection of defenders. Preferably the former.     Coming out into the courtyard, Nova quickly glances over the fighting crowd with her visor. The built-in systems register Due Giang as a friendly, the rest as enemies. Nova raises her rifle, but has trouble getting a clear shot with the spear-wielder amidst the frenzy. Then it becomes too late to shoot.     Nova is charged by a number of the defenders. She meets the first with her rifle, using the weapon to block the sword. Before she can counter attack, a second defender approaches from the other side, swinging his own blade. Nova is forced to release part of her grip on her rifle, bringing the armored hand up to catch the swung weapon before it can do too much damage. And once again before she can return the favor, a third defender manages to catch Nova off-guard from behind, thrusting the pointed edge of his spear towards her. Nova tries to move clear but she's boxed in, the spear finding its mark plunging part way through the Ghost's suit.     Nova grunts in pain as blood seeps out from the stab wound. But the expression on her face is quickly changing to that of anger. This is amplified by the aura of psychic energies that suddenly flares around Nova. With a battle cry the Ghost unleashes a blast of telekinetic energy all around her, knocking the three away and the spear ripping from her body. But it doesn't end there.     Reaching back with her free hand Nova pulls forth the sword on her back. As she grabs hold of it, the blade ignites with blue light. Weapon in hand, Nova suddenly moves with incredible speed boosted by the psychic power she's channeling. She quickly delivers deadly strikes from the monomolecular psi-blade to the three who had attacked her. But she doesn't finish there, barely a blur as she darts into the melee around Giang and Orchid, striking once at each of their attackers until she finally comes to a stop on the other side. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      The panicked thrust of the cornered Lintha is met with a fluid twirl--the sword cuts a gash across Eye's back, tearing the fine silk garment and cutting the bottom half free. This reveals the finely-spun wool robes beneath, black rivulets of blood running down the length of them from his multitudinous gashes. With a defeated sigh, he casts off the remains of the kimono, leaving only the hakama and revealing his bare chest to the ocean air. The leader is observed slinking into the water, and his mood worsens for it.      Uttering a request over the radio, he casually strides through the carnage atop the wall, leaping off of it to land before 'Gale' and Tomoe. He pays them a little wrinkle of his nose and a coy smile, nodding to the water. This might look a little disturbing, consiering his usually bright and expressive eyes are currently replaced with expressionless Soulsteel nozzles. With his vision focused on the very waves the leader dipped beneath, he attempts to penetrate the inky depths and spot him. His reason for coming here was not so much hostages as information--and a very good source of it won't be slipping away on his watch. Setting his Essence Cannons to Nonlethal, he attempts to find and subdue the leader with a well-placed shot. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     There's a funny thing going on this time with Finna's strikes!     She's seen this trick before. Acid blood spurts were accounted for in the angle and speed of her blows. Accordingly, very little of the stuff manages to strike her skin. Just as the geysers erupt, her limbs just aren't there anymore. The winds whipped up by her strikes disperse the stuff. A lot of the drenching that should occur... simply doesn't. Most of the poison strikes only glowing contrails where her limbs had been moments later.     But not all of it. Her lower body gets splashed more than she likes, and the seething poison is doing a number on her. Her breathing's grown terribly ragged and movements have slowed. Despite all her divine grace, her stance is showing more and more openings...     So, spotting Tomoe moving in, the Lunar grins.     And as she's KICKED BACK and away from her opponent and goes tumbling... she SLAMS down with a clawed hand to dig in and bleed off momentum with an awful show of sparks and splinters, then SWINGS sideways to place Tomoe between her and the Daiklave-bearing pirate.     She's kneeling, whipping out Moonlit Huntress from elsewhere and swiftly nocking an arrow...     She takes aim for the GAP BETWEEN TOMOE'S LEGS, the grace of Luna gathering in her fingers and guiding her sight...     "Take this, poison-breath!" The arrow is loosed!     It SPANGS off the ground just in front of Tomoe at a shallow angle... and BEND-RICOCHETS impossibly, now angling upwards with no loss of speed or force with the goal of spearing the warrior straight through a knee! 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Orchid's spiders spread out. Some of them inevitably get crushed by the sheer number of feet. That's alright. They spread webs and discord, limiting maneuverability in a place where your footwork is often the difference between life and death. This turns out to be very important for the next several moments. Nova attacks from one side, and Ryu from the other. The pair of them abruptly switch gears from harrying, harrassing and disabling to full-on crowd-clearing violence, psionic aptitude neatly complimenting bestial ferocity. The pirates that face down the speed and precision of the psi-blade wielding Ghost are hampered by the silken binds that keep them from adequately defending themselves, letting her drop them with quick, efficient blows that take them out of the fight as fast as possible. Meanwhile, Ryu simply wades into the fray, raw power bowling over, tearing up, or otherwise smashing through the Lintha defense -- and coming to the Lintha offense instead. The remaining fighters find themselves sandwiched between a couple murder engines and their murder engineer, and a spear-wielding zealot. A few more are cut down, and the rest break and run, trying to scatter towards the edges of the shell in an obvious rout. They leave the way clear to the actually door. Due Giang, breathing hard, plants the butt of his glass spear on the stone ground. "Good timing. That woman is inside with the hostages." He gives Ryu a wary look. "Are we going to have a problem?" He sounds fatigued rather than confrontational. The Lintha leader, meanwhile, sinks into the inky depths... and then starts to swim. Finna's arrow puts a stop to that, preventing him from maneuvering long enough for Eye's Essence blasts to pound him into unconsciousness. The sheer amount of punishment it takes to keep him there is a bit surprising; his body is already knitting itself back together fairly quickly, even underwater. Especially underwater. Once he gets fished out, that slows to a crawl, and keeping him restrained and subdued long enough to interrogate him (or let Eye do his particular form of information-gathering...) is not a problem. Mere minutes later, the storm begins to break. The thrashing of the seas from the turtle's restlessness calms. Everything about the world around you seems to just take a deep breath and finally relax. The fight, it seems, is finally over. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      Things have come to a relative sense of peace. The gentle burble of the sea, the wind, and the calls of far off-birds is broken by the wet sound of a spike forcefully driven into the unconscious form of the Lintha's leader. All-Seeing Eye grips a black metal spike which protrudes from the prone man's neck. With an expression of gentle calm, he holds it there. Outwardly, he appears to be simply staring at the man.      Inwardly, however, things are different. A question burns in his mind, the answer denied him on a previous mission. Sifting through the memories of the leader, he searches for that answer once again. 'Where is Bluehaven?' Surely, he must know /something/ if he was entrusted with command of so extravagant a resource. And whatever he knows, Eye would know it too--his name is more appropriate than most realize, after all. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Eye plugs himself into the Lintha. Invading his mind is remarkably easy. Almost as if... ...no. It's just that Eye is strong enough to overpower some pirate bumpkin from this messy, disorganized world. That's all there is to it. The man's name is Spiteful Sound of Broken Bells. He's a true-blooded Lintha, apparently, though what that means is unclear. He's a leader among them, inasmuch as he can be in a matriarchal society. He proudly thinks of himself as a grandfather among his sept, despite his relatively young age -- middle-aged by most standards, though his body is fit and in his prime. Once he's off the turtle-rock, he'll begin the reclamation of the Lintha's rightful place as rulers of the world, starting with An-Teng. That's what he was given that sword for, wasn't it? That's why he -- he -- he -- IRRELEVANT. Bluehaven. Eye searches for it. Spiteful Sound remembers Bluehaven. He remembers a grand city, floating atop trim and cleanly-built ships. He remembers the great Lintha Family living alongside their revered ancestors in peace and harmony with the Great Mother, the ocean they sail upon. He remembers the graceful lines of soaring architecture, built upon the backs of the labors of their great ancestors. He remembers the elegant ceremonies, the harmonious order, the sheer, overwhelming love that flows from their Great Mother unto them, and from them back unto their Mother. Spiteful Sound remembers love. He remembers Bluehaven, and he remembers love. He remembers his own sept coming together, seated around a great feast, laughing and smiling. He remembers his sister speaking of her betrayal of their family for a Southerner. He remembers his grandmother taking her gently by the hand, kissing her on the forehead, and drowning her in soup-broth. They all came together for that, laughing and smiling. He remembers love. So much love. The path to Bluehaven is difficult; he remembers that, too. No charts exist. He committed the way to memory. He goes over it, examining stars and seas to find it. He knows the waves and the wind. He knows that the Great Mother wouldn't want them to tell anyone, so he cuts the tongues from his lessers. They smile, bleeding from their wounded mouths. They laugh, and they smile. They come together as one family, all in the name of the Great Mother. That's why he -- he -- he -- BLUEHAVEN. The ship. The seas. The currents. He knows. Eye knows, now, too. He digs deep to find it, and Spiteful Sound resists. Not well enough. There's not much left of him. He's so hollow. Eye finds it terribly easy to just reach inside him and run his fingers along the hollow insides of his skin. He does it to make his fingers move like a hand-puppet in his memories. He does it to make him give up the secret. He does. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Eye knows, now, too. He knows love. He knows laughter and smiles. He knows the joy of the Great Mother. He knows -- -- this feeling. He knows this feeling. He doesn't know this feeling. He communes with the Great Maker, armored in order and discipline and purpose. He communes with the Great Mother, vulnerable amidst her love and drowning in her affection. Spiteful Sound remembers the comfort of the vats, and the pride of his nation. The Populat, all made safe under his ever-vigilant eye. All-Seeing Eye remembers submerging himself in the salt-water, infinitely deep, infinitely loving, infinitely hateful, infinitely caring, infinitely spiteful. The Family, made better for what he does. That's why he -- he -- he --         -- hacked himself to pieces                             and filled those pieces with the sea     and scoured his soul clean                         and gave himself to HER                                       and                                                                             she                                                                             TOOK                                                                             HIM                                                                             ---                                       

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' All-Seeing Eye draws himself back, falling too deep into the well of Spiteful Sound. A great, awful presence fills the hollow man's body. It is vast as the sea is vast. It is vast as the Maker is vast. It is hateful as the Maker could never be. It sees you. The connection abruptly overloads and snaps like brittle glass. The physical spike itself feels unbearably hot, and then the entire magitech assembly in Eye's body goes abruptly numb. Eye's Charm is ill-equipped to handle something as vast and alien in scope and mind as Autochthon Himself trying to worm its way through it -- and yet that's exactly what just happened. Eye looked into the Sea, and the Sea looked back. It sees you. It sees all of you. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      Fingers grasp the Personality Override Spike defiantly. Synthetic skin burns, cracks and hardens like clay. It begins to smoke. Eye still clutches it, gritting his teeth. The Sea won't just see him, trying to worm his way in--it will see his hate, burning like a tiny pinprick, a firefly set before a mountain. It is hate for many things, but most curiously, for himself. As he peruses Spiteful Sound's memories, his free hand drifts to one of the arrows stuck in his body. Fingers gingerly pluck the arrowhead free. It's turned over in his hand.      He must cut himself, make himself pure, fill himself with the sea--the arrowhead slices his synthetic skin, drawing black blood which stains his hakama and splatters upon the akuma's prone body. His expression is one of beatific joy. Then... The connection is shattered, the spike literally so. A line is burned all the way up his arm, creating a deep, black rut with branching pathways like the roots of a plant. A frayed wire dangles uselessly from a port in his palm, only to retract like a wounded eel.      His lips are pulled into a venemous scowl. He is many things--but he is never impure. Never read so openly. "WHORE!" His normally gentle, focus-group voice is warped into a wrathful bellow--the sound of a wounded animal. An ornamental sandal is then lodged into the prone man's jaw with such force as to tear skin and draw blood. It's withdrawn, with a wet, sucking noise, and put back, forcefully. Again. Again. Again. He sits upon the man's chest, hands holding either side of his now-mangled head. "Listen to me," he says in a manic, hushed whisper. "I am coming to your beloved city--and I will visit such horrors upon it, not even the filthy wretches of the underworld will take their mangled souls. Do you hear me?" He shakes the man's body. Someone must be made to pay for this... this desecration of the self. Of the Great Maker's perfection.      "I'm coming for you." 
}}

5969/Gold Gathers Greed

2018-08-03T04:22:53Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/08/02 |Location=An-Teng - The House of Drowned Lilies |Synopsis=The Golden Brothers eat, drink, be merry, and plan the next move against the L..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/08/02
|Location=An-Teng - The House of Drowned Lilies
|Synopsis=The Golden Brothers eat, drink, be merry, and plan the next move against the Lintha.
|Cast of Characters=1151, 1161, 513, 6, 6384, 1139
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The House of Drowned Lilies has been made the temporary headquarters of the Golden Brothers, largely due to the sheer number of them inside it. The back-alley tea house, accessible only through city canals and boat traffic, has been filled with boistrous men and women as warriors old and young gathered together to talk, drink, and celebrate their victory over the demonic Lintha. Today, the House looks a little more... alive. Tables appear to be enormous blossoms of brass and polished wood, with vines of greenery entwined about the central columns beneath and around the legs of the matching chairs around them. The silk curtains that normally divide them have been replaced with hanging moss dotted with flowers, and with lanterns that glow with a warm golden light. The rock garden in the middle of the building has similarly been changed, turned to a shallow basin filled with water with designs in a colorful oily sheen seemingly painted on the surface. Veiled men and women in gauzy, barely decent clothing serve food and drink and, occasionally, disappear behind one of the curtained doorways at the far end of the room with one of the patrons. Due Giang, the tall, spear-wielding man in red, sits at a table in the back of the House. His many subordinates fill the rest of the building and pass by to speak with him, which he does with clear warmth and welcome. Still, they know he's waiting for something, and they leave him to his task, letting him drift back into a state of stone-faced alert. He's waiting to see if the information acquired during the raid was good. Supposedly, the proprietress of the place can verify it, and that's what she's doing now. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else while he waits, though. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu steps into this establishment in human form, his blue hair and unusual golden eyes giving him the slightest inhuman appearance, and anyone with any sort of sense for it would know this is merely a disguise to keep from causing a commotion. He shuffles over to where Due Giang is, and settles in for a seat.     His eyes close, his ears attuned to the room around him. His nose twitches, checking for unusual scents on the air. He otherwise keeps alert, and keeps his mouth shut. He hasn't been involved as much as he could be, but it's his understanding that this is where he goes for dealing with the Lintha.     "Hey," is the only greeting he gives to Due. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna bolted and laid low after her appearance at the water's edge as a clear Chosen of Luna on a rampage.     But now there's a new person amidst the group that's gathered. A young woman who's on the edge of her seat, clearly impressed at the waitstaff (snickering playfully more than once at some of the obvious... matchmaking taking place). Her black hair's cut short in front and away from her face, but a few locks reach down to her waist along her back. She has a look of mixed heritage - a hint of the darker skin of the South mixed with vague Blessed Islander features, among things from the East. She's dressed in a one-piece crimson outfit of floofy 'harem pants' and a sleeveless top that's held in place by being skin-tight and linking to a decorated collar featuring a small blue gemstone of low quality. Around her waist is an elaborate silver-and-gold corset and skirt-of-decorated-strips that's purely for show, if anything.     It would seem that if anyone's going to notice her, they'd only notice her now. But... was she here at the table the whole time?     Whatever the case, she's showing a jovial, childishly enthused face to the whole wide world. A big smile that mildly baby-faced features amplifies for extra heartwarming-ness!     She takes note of how tight-lipped dragon-boy-blue's being, and reaches over to clap him on the shoulder good-naturedly! "'Hay' is for horses, not heroes! Loosen up and join the fun!" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Shorlty after the Dragon? Comes a Salamander she's tall she's clad in armor but she's wearing a traveling cloak. She pulls the hood downa s she enters she looks about the house for a momnt. She takes it int but seem uneasy? Then again she's never at ease in Creation these days, the world is like anti-matter to how her native world works even after Cardinal's update patch to it. She too makes for Due Gaiang now and sits down getting slightly less on edge. "Sorry for the delay on my end. I have had issues back home." 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Dragons, salamanders, lilies, and now, a flower of spiders, made of gears and wire. Or to put it less poetically, Orchid arrives. She had some doings in the gaining of the documents, sacrificing the skin on one of her hands to do so. So with that investment to protect, she wants to see this through to the end. So she arrives, if with less fanfare than some. She is here to see more than to fight, and takes in the interesting people and decor here. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      Amidst the bawdy exclamations, raucous boasting and rough-cut warriors, a foreign Exalt sticks out like a sore thumb. He looks as if he was plucked from a dynast's dinner party, wearing a purple silk kimono. That the garment is open at the chest suggests a certain theme to this hypothetical party, but his extravagant manner of dress belies the ease with which he assimilates into the company of warriors. Nursing a small cup of tea, he lends his soft, lyrical voice to the din of the teahouse, making quite a few soft-spoken boasts of his own. One of the flowers decorating the place has been surreptitiously plucked, now resting in his long raven hair as an accessory.      Ryu's taciturn greeting draws a smile, and Finna's goading only sees it widen. "I concur," says All-Seeing Eye, not bothering to turn and face either new arrival. He's seated at a table nearby Due Giang, but not at the leader's table proper. "Certainly, I'd have preferred the complete..." Sip. "Cessation of hostilities," he coyly utters. "But progress has been made, nonetheless. Have a seat, relax!" The Exalt eyes one of the passing servants, a deliberate gesture given the scope of his vision. He smiles, setting the cup down and giving a little wave, waggling his fingers.      This is the same man, some will note, who attempted a city-wide extermination of Lintha just to get hazy information on the location of Bluehaven. He appears none the worse for wear--externally, at least. He pats an open spot beside him, welcoming either Finna or Ryu to take a seat. He seems the very picture of ease.      "At least," muses Eye, "Until we get the information our host awaits." He nods towards Due Giang at the neighboring table. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The Islander doesn't get any more notice than anyone else around. Not!Finna gets included in a couple of jokes and asides before she partly breaks away, showing that whatever she's doing, it's working pretty well. The crowd is fairly well-behaved thus far; the party hasn't done any property damage, and some of the veterans in the building are making sure it doesn't get out of hand. They're also sure to make Eye feel welcome, generally of the opinion that even the extremely dangerous should be treated with comraderie and respect when they're on your side. That's probably why he gets egged on, too, when one of the servers seems to return his appreciative look with one of their own. Nothing like trying to help your new pal get lucky to solidify the bonds of friendship. Due Giang gives Ryu a long, appraising look. For a second, there's tension. The last time they met, they did not do so on the same side. Ryu can even see a red mark above one of his eyes that looks like a burn scar, likely leftover from that very meeting. Still, he doesn't seem to recognize him, and he gets a short nod of acknowledgement instead of a big damn fight. "She should be out here any minute now," Due Giang says. "Make yourself comfortable. I suppose this place is at least that." He glances around, then gestures at one of the servers, who comes over with a bottle of something clear and strong-smelling. He pours himself a small amount and downs it, exhaling with a bit of a sigh in his voice. "I'll be glad to be on my way and done with this pirate business. The seas of the West are no friend of mine." The spearman eyes the foreigners near him -- all of you, that is. "I don't suppose any of you are interested in fighting an army of the dead?" he asks, offhand. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      "Depending on the context, I might be able to provide support," Orchid says in reply to Due Giang. She knows his heart is basically in the right place, and it'd be another opportunity to learn more about this strange corner of the multiverse. If a drink is offered, she'll accept, trusting in her robot physiology to keep from getting drunk. She nods to All-Seeing Eye. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     And naturally, at this invitation, the merry girl immediately hops to take the offered seat next to All-Seeing Eye... and doesn't do a single thing to hide the raw animal attraction driving the decision. A move of pure delighted impulse.     A hop and a swing and she's IN THAT CHAIR no questions asked! "Well hey there, handsome! You sure know how to liven up things."     Well... no questions asked of Eye, anyways. The sudden questioning from Due Giang DOES get her swinging about to give HIM a look. One that ALMOST questions if he's serious. "Hm? First the demon pirates, and now the dead?" The jovial manner quiets for a bit as she leans in to peer a little more carefully at the unusually brave man. "An ARMY of the dead...? Whose army...?" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe looks to Finna. "There is no fun when dealing with things like this." She nearly said world but managed to keep that from slipping out. She seem to be very much in business mode for a moment. She looks to Dun Giang and nods. "Thank you." She's about as comfortable as she can get. So she'll just wait for the moment. "I have experiance with fighting the dead." She notes but there's no real joy to it and she takes a look at Eye as he arrives, she greets him but without name. "Hey good to see you made it here." 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      Eye endures playful shoulder-punches and ribald jibes with the fortitude of a battle-tested comrade-in-arms, despite having only arrived but a scant hour or so past. He waves a few half-hearted 'oh, stop' gestures, before Finna's remark draws his amusement. "You have no idea," says the Exalt with a small smile. His golden eyes gleam, briefly. Come to think of it... "Then again, perhaps you do." Her voice does sound remarkably familiar--the attack on Luthe, perhaps? He strategically places a hand upon hers, making eye contact for a moment just to gauge her reaction. Will she give some tell and reveal her identity? His smile threatens to widen.      The Exalt wrinkles his nose at her, flipping his braid over his shoulder and offering a response to Due Giang. "Oh, now you know full well I'm not one to turn down a fight," he merrily replies. "And I /do/ have experience dealing with the dead!" He finishes his tea and sets the cup to the side, quietly motioning for a refill to the next passing servant.      "The question is, do you want to fight them, or destroy them? Give me one engagement and an officer," he says, with an almost bored certainty. "Someone important. I'll find their base of operations and... handle it.~" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Ohoh? The young woman notices Eye's unusually expressive gaze. Blinks at the hand embracing hers. And responds with a private sideways grin that features... unusually sharp teeth? Yep. This girl's more than she appears. Although, maybe that was a trick of the light.     Clearly she IS enjoying this though, for some reason or another.     Because she glances over her shoulder and makes a 'ch' Tomoe's way. "On the contrary! When you face death everyday, you can either be all doom and gloom about it, or take life by the horns and knee it into submission!" 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu opens his eyes to regard Due, remembering the fellow with a sudden dawning. But he doesn't startle. Instead, he stares in silence, the way more taciturn individuals might do, and listens in on the topics at hand for an opening to provide his input. When he speaks up next, it's clear his voice is not masked, and it might be familiar from the very fight that scarred the man before.     "That's why I'm here," he answers Due, "The dead are my direct enemy in these realms. Were you meaning any specific army, though, or just speaking... in general?" He makes a circular motion with one hand, his lazy demeanor emphasized in the slow movement. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Due Giang is fairly polite. He makes silent motions for the others to join him and have a drink if they so desire. This isn't any of the House specials, with the strange taste of emotion and memory; it's just good, strong liquor. "Destroy them," Due Giang tells Eye immediately. "Unfortunately, I doubt it will be quite that easy." He glances at Ryu, eyes narrowing fractionally. "The City of Dead Flowers was the capital of An-Teng more than a thousand years ago, before... well, all the flowers died. It's been sealed up with shrines to the Pale Mistress ever since." A couple of the nearest warriors, upon hearing that name, make a little motion like they were crossing themselves. "But there have been ghosts creeping out and attacking innocents recently. I want to find out why and put a stop to it. And, given what I've heard about Lookshy..." "You suspect an army of restless dead," Empty Tidings cuts in, stepping up to the table from the back of the room, "and want to heroically step in and stop it before there's a repeat here. Am I right?" Due Giang smiles thinly at her. "Do you have what we're waiting for?" Tidings puts a slightly acid-eaten box on the table. "Yes and no. We don't have Bluehaven, but we do have something... else. Before you go gallavanting off on your ghost-hunting expeditions, why don't you set your sights on something smaller? Say... the rescue of dozens of hostages being used as leverage by the Lintha? I'm sure there'll be someone /there/ who can point us at the real prize." 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      "The real prize is measured in lives saved, lives improved," Orchid notes, her eyes on that box. "So, I take it you were able to decode the documents?" She pulls the drink into her mouth, to better enjoy the flavor, before letting it trickle down her throat. The exact details of what happens to it later... are for later. But given what it cost her, she's going to get the details on what's in that paperwork. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     "Hostages? Alright, I'm in."     Ryu is an easily predicted fellow. He smiles in confidence, even! And reaches out to take a drink when it's offered to him. He's slow about it, and the potent scent of alcohol does make his nose wrinkle, but he's not going to be rude to this guy. Ryu remembers his encounter with those hunters, and he'd prefer to stay on friendly terms with people that have similar interests to his own. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      All-Seeing Eye isn't called that because he's nearsighted. There is no moment of uncertainty hanging in his eyes when Finna flashes her fangs at him, no doubting what his optics recorded. His soft features merely draw up in interest, and the moment passes.      Due Giang's sobering assessment draws a gentle shrug. "Frustrating, but true," admits All-Seeing Eye. Indeed, things in Creation are seldom solved as quickly as one would like. "Even /I/ can't undo millennia of power games and mismanagement with a few well-placed nudges." Empty Tidings' entrance not only draws a wolfish grin, but offers him the opportunity to further promote himself. "But!" Without turning to face Tidings, he inclines his head in her direction. "I am making progress, and I'm not done." His tone adopts a merry, lilting quality as his hand squeezes Finna's. "If someone in that den of roaches knows where Bluehaven is, so too will I!~"      "If not--well, we'll have robbed them of valuable resources." The fingers of his free hand drum the table idly. "And either way, I doubt your great, big box of undead is going anywhere anytime soon. If it bothers you that much, I could perform a teensy little risk assessment? Pop by, do a little preliminary scouting, provide some actionable intel." He brushes a bit of fallen moss off of the table absently. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe listens as things are laid out to them by their contact. "I see so an old ruined city has undead swarming from it? What you heard about Lookshy is likely an understatement, of the horror that happened there." She looks to Finna for a moment. She shoots Finna a look that might set something on fire. She's not in the mood for Finna's jokes at all. She does seem focused on the mission at hand though. A Rescue operation that sounds like it would be a good warm up and lets be honest the dead will keep a bit longer than the hostages will. I'm in." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Hostages?" Blackhaired-Finna grits her teeth. "Why'm I not surprised..." She can only shrug helplessly in a 'it cannto be helped!' manner at Tomoe's rejection of her joviality, but she purses her lips at the issue.. all until Eye shows a little affection. TThen the grin returns! "Seems these pirates don't learn any lessons. I'm in!" ... Whoever this girl is. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Due Giang nods towards Orchid's intentions, apparently in agreement with her, while Tidings simply quirks her brow very slightly. She says, "I have, yes. I have been working on deciphering Lintha communications for quite a while. It's nice to see that my own efforts might actually pay off." She helps herself to a seat at the table, making a quiet noise of amusement and mirroring Eye's inclination of the head. She works a hidden compartment inside, opening the guts of the box and removing some of the contents. Part of it is a detailed map of the coast, marked with gibberish characters indicating what are probably routes. "Here." She points to one. "This comes close enough to the Shore Lands in a week's time that you'll almost be in sight of dry land at the point where you can intercept it. It seems to be some sort of prison transport; this is its route, and the times and dates it makes it. You would have to hunt it in blue waters after that, which would make it easier to reinforce with other Lintha vessels." "I don't like it," Due Giang grunts. "This seems too straightforward for the Lintha... but a deal's a deal. Most of my men aren't deep-water sailors, so they'll have to remain behind. We'll need a ship..." He trails off, giving Tomoe a slightly concerned look, and then nodding towards Eye. "If you have a means of quickly scouting the limits of the shrines, that would be helpful. We can plan around the location of the break once we've returned." Empty Tidings nods a little. "I'll make sure we have a vessel fast enough to get us near. Your men and my House shouldn't be without us for long, if all goes well." Due Giang looks at her like she just revealed she had three heads and spat fire. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "I'm able to fly at a fairly high speed, I could attempt a flyover if it's needed." The Salamander notes before going quiet again and listening to their contact and her allies for a moment. She looks to Empty "We could look ingo using our contacts to get something speedy from off world if it comes to it." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Mmmmmmh. I can scout it pretty well too. One view from the air, one from the ground, we'll be up to our EARS in useful intel!" Finally, someone whose plan involves ACTUAL RECON, the blackhaired youth's gleaming eyes seem to sugges! She's very quick to hop aboard with that role! 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      "Us?" Orchid asks the Mistress of the House. "Then you are planning on coming with us?" She looks over the charts. "I can handle water down to the continental shelf," she muses. "But blue water means it's over the ocean's abyss... Hmmm." Her finger traces the route. "We'll want something big enough to carry several people. Do we know how many crew would be on this ship?" she asks, being the sort of person who likes good intel. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      Does /he/ have means of quickly scouting? "Of course I do," Eye states matter-of-factly. "In fact, I could begin immediately, provided I get some helpful directions!" Due Giang is given a winning smile. He takes his hand off of Finna's and stands up, demonstrating his sincerity in so doing. "Once our business here is concluded, I'll drop in, have a little look-see, and hurry back to our intrepid companions for a bit of spirited heroism." He places a hand upon his chin, tilting his head inquisitively.      "How does that sound?" 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "Of course I am," Empty Tidings tells Orchid. "I want to see this venture through. Besides, I've personal experience in the matter of Lintha hostage-taking; you'll want me around when it comes to ensuring they all walk off that ship alive." Due Giang visibly swallows his objections, followed by another slug of his drink. "Nothing solid," Tidings admits. "We don't know what sort of ship it is, but we know it will have to be quite large, judging by the number of prisoners held. If they're merely being transported, it's likely the number of captives will outnumber the crew by a fair amount. It's more likely you'll have to deal with a small number of skilled fighters rather than a small army of armed sailors." Due Giang eyes Eye for a moment, then Not!Finna for a longer one, and finally nods. "I'll point you in the right direction, if you're certain. We'll need to make our way downriver quickly if we want to catch that ship, though. I hope you're as fast as you say." 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      "Then maybe we should plan to capture the ship," Orchid muses. "A number of small craft, maybe? Throw the guards overboard, take the whole thing home. It may be easier than getting a craft both large enough and fast enough to get out there." Yeah, she's fully into the puzzle this presents. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "Well, I expected you'd simply kill every Lintha aboard and work it out from there," Tidings remarks, somewhat offhandedly. "There's a lower limit to how small a ship can be and still be reasonable to catch it, though. Do you expect us to chase it in dinghies?" 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Orchid shrugs. "I've got a rocket surfboard, and I've got the feeling that a few of these fine people have their own ways to get out there. So no, I didn't rule it out." She seems both serious... and not insulted. She's here to learn out the way things work locally. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Hmm.... scouting a ship. That makes it mildly trickier..." Finna furrows her brow a little, but doesn't obviously outright declare 'no, not really, I can shapeshift and use weird anathema magic' for plain-as-day reasons!     "But doable!" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has nothing to add at this point save for nodding in agreement to Empty's experiance with these guys in taking hostages. She doesn't seem to have much else to say she can fly nearly at mac speeds when not in combat so she can really hoof it so she has no issues at least in planning she can keep up with this ship. 

:'''{{#var:1139|All-Seeing Eye (1139)}} has posed:'''      The Alchemical rubs his chin thoughtfully. "It depends on how far apart the two points are, I suppose! Assuming a no-hostile environment, I can traverse eighty miles per hour. Of course," he says with a pointed look at Empty Tidings, "I don't mind making it an extended surveillance mission, if that's insufficient. My friend here has proven remarkably efficient at solving the Lintha problem." She's given a coy smile, as he recalls their first encounter with the seafaring marauders. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "A..." Tidings shakes her head. "Alright. Well. I'll see about transport, then, shall I?" Due Giang grunts. "You shall." He lifts his glass towards her. Tidings stands, smiling warmly down at him and Eye in turn and then retreating from the table. She takes everything but the chart with the route map on it, which Due Giang leans over and examines when she's gone from the place. His expression is knit with concern. "Do your best to get back to us, then. Assuming a normal rate of travel..." Due Giang touches the map and the river, dragging his finger along it. "Morning. Midday. Sunset. We should make good speed. The city in question is here..." He taps the chart, near the shore but off the river. Strange, considering how all the big cities in An-Teng are on the water. "...so you should have no trouble with that speed, assuming there isn't anything dangerous in your path. He returns to looking at the route, and just shakes his head. "This is going to be trouble. I can feel it. But..." Due Giang trails off, refilling and emptying his glass. The noise of the other Golden Brothers drowns out his concerns. 
}}

5913/Flowers and Secrets

2018-06-20T04:36:59Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/06/19 |Location=An-Teng, Exalted-9999 |Synopsis=Chasing rumors about demon-pirates and monster-hunters leads to the discovery of a plan of att..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/06/19
|Location=An-Teng, Exalted-9999
|Synopsis=Chasing rumors about demon-pirates and monster-hunters leads to the discovery of a plan of attack.
|Cast of Characters=1151, 1134, 513, 6384, 1154
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' ADORNED WITH WISDOM AS A SAPPHIRE (or just 'Sapphire' for short) is a city in the southwestern province of An-Teng, a Realm satrapy renowned for its expensive silks, precious gems, and almost infuriatingly polite deference towards the powerful. The city itself is old, featuring enduring stone architecture and more canals than roads, largely thanks to its position on the River of Queens, and a great number of academies and schools, largely thanks to its sheer age. A natural Warpgate a short ways up the river makes getting here pretty easy from the outside, too. It's a lovely day, but the mood in Sapphire is a touch on the darker side. Rumors of the Lintha demon-pirates moving up-river abound, and the large population of students is abuzz with the possibility of hostilities while An-Teng's blind eye towards the pirates (everyone knows it; almost nobody talks about it) remains unseeing. The Realm has half a legion downriver to the west of here, much closer to the sea, so there's no way they should be able to get this far inland... right? On top of that, it seems like a bunch of rabble-rousers calling themselves the Golden Brothers have been roaming around town, recruiting the brave to 'take back the night' from the 'forces of darkness.' While most Tengese simply dismiss them for foreign fools, a few adventurous souls have signed on with them, and have been roaming town trying to find friends to do the same. They don't sound like they like the Lintha much, either... A GREAT STONE PLAZA bearing an old statue of some great, golden figure is accessible by land from the north side of the city. Porters lug goods overland from the canals to shops and businesses in this section of town, and foot traffic is fairly brisk. A trio of young men in buff coats and bits of hard leather armor, each bearing spears, rest at the foot of the statue. Meanwhile, a pair of robed students speak animatedly about something they're clearly trying to keep quiet and are failing miserably at not too far away. The city is open to you -- so long as you're polite. Where to go? What to do? 

:'''{{#var:1134|Mei Hatsume (1134)}} has posed:'''      Try as she might, Mei is not one to pass up the chance to investigate new locales with all sorts of new technology and impressively shiny stuff to get her grubby mitts on. Granted, she's not the sort to try and STOP herself from said mitt grubbing, but she does at least need to keep up some appearances every now and then.      Thus, her goal today is not to seek out the nearest workshop, but to find those Golden Brothers. Local heroes would be a good group to fall in with, and Mei's quite willing to do some snooping around to find them! The method: Loitering near those robed students and trying to figure out their deal. Using her ZOOM quirk, she observes them from a rather long distance away, watching them at first while slowly making her way around to get into hearing range. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     As An-Teng is a very established Realm satrapy (however an odd one) where Dynasts frequent, Finna is being extra-cautious in her goings-about. Can she handle an uppity Dragon-Blooded or two? Sure, probably. Does she want to deal with the consequences of a city on Anathema alert? Oh definitely not.     And that's why she's currently taking the form of a male oriole, a black-feathered bird with a magnificent orange-colored chest.     One problem will solve the other, she figures, and so Finna's swooping around the streets and particularly the plaza.. and has quickly spotted the goings-on at the plaza.     She swoops in for a rest-perch on the golden statue, and sharpens her ears to listen in on the conversations... 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      On the other hand, Orchid is much more interested in learning not just about the local technology, but also the fashion and style. Of course, as a spotter, she's always got at least one eye out for trouble-a-brewing, so as she wanders, she pauses by the statue; she looks like she's fiddling with her bags, but she is actually listening to what her spiders, hidden about the square, are able to hear. Rumors of trouble on the wind... And with luck, none of her spiders will be stepped on. 

:'''{{#var:1154|Wandering Dog (1154)}} has posed:''' Wandering Dog's been in the West a bit, but his other favorite region of Creation is absolutely the South. Sun, sand, grilled meat, and it sounds like /adventure/! Luckily, Wandering Dog was a Dragon-Blooded, so he could travel freely, even if he was also a filthy outcast. Having heard about the Golden Brothers, he wanted to know more. Dressed in his white silk tunic and with a black jade bracer with a statue of a hawk on it on his right wrist, he approached the men with spears, moving to speak to them with a grin. "Yo. Nice to meet you, name's Wandering Dog. You look like the type of gentlemen to know about the Golden Brothers. Any chance of knowing where I could find them?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     And with Wandering Dog somehow arriving at the exact same time she does, the bird makes a quiet throaty warble and begins preening its feathers in a manner that's almost irritated. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The students are trying to speak quietly, talking with their hands quite a lot. Mei can pick out that one of them has some kind of flyer, and it looks like he's trying to convince the other to go along with him to... somewhere. Her telescopic vision makes it pretty easy to see: it looks like a map of part of the city with a particular back-alley building circled, with the upper half of the page dominated by the silhouette of a smiling woman's face. Through spiders or snooping, snippets of their conversation come through, though: "...it's a bad idea." "It's not a bad idea! Come on, you're always dragging me to that lame teahouse by the school to see some girl --" "-- which isn't /dangerous/, is it? You just want to see if they have neomah and --" "And who wouldn't? C'mon, if there's trouble, we'll leave straight away. It's not far --" The more excitable of the pair points behind him, towards the western part of the district. The other one rolls his eyes and gets back to debate. It seems like the kind of lively argument friends have all the time. Meanwhile, the trio at the statue look up. They squint, trying to look tough but instead just looking kind of nearsighted. One of them immediately perks up when Wandering Dog introduces himself, and he scrambles to his feet. "/The/ Wandering Dog? Like in 'Wandering Dog and the Tale of the River-Striders?' Did you really beat a rogue elemental into submission with a fistful of stagnant water?" The others get up, a touch more slowly, and bow politely. "Hello, sir. No, sir. Well --" The two less-talkative of them exchange glances. "-- maybe. Due Giang said he was looking into some rumors of..." He lowers his voice. "...demons, being summoned in the city." "Demons get summoned in the city all the time," the third mutters. "Just not usually for tea." The exciteable one frowns, scratching his head. "Yeah. We don't know exactly where he went, but it sounded like some shady teahouse he'd sniffed out with that nose of his. But, usually one of the Golden Brothers comes here at sundown --" It's still the middle of the day. "-- so we thought we'd just wait to see when we're leaving." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     It does sound like a fairly normal conversation, apart from the casual mention of NEOMAH. Finna-bird doesn't show any recognition of the talk going on below beyond the earlier fuss, just listening....     Oh Finna knows of the Neomah. Many Creation-born have heard of them - they are nearly as ubiquitous to sorcerers as blood apes!     But the way Wandering Dog's received by these people has her taken aback. They're AMAZED by him. Positive reaction! She wasn't expecting that. It may prove to be a handy aid in her quest to investigate. 

:'''{{#var:1134|Mei Hatsume (1134)}} has posed:'''      A map? How curious! With her own investigation more or less complete, the pink-haired inventor slides her goggles down over her eyes while taking a rounadabout path to get to the back-alley in question. Luckily, she doesn't have to fumble with which way that actually is thanks to the westward pointing, and she pauses briefly to watch the spearmen conversing with a martial artist.      Note to self: Research telescopic hearing. That way, she'd probably be able to pick up more clues about whether or not she's even on the right trail! Still, a lead is a lead, and she's not about to ignore it. Time to go traipsing around in suspicious alleys!      Good thing she's got her harness on. Worst case scenario, she's prepared to hurl goop in someone's face. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Between one thing and another, Orchid gets the idea that the place she should check out is the back-alley tea-house. After spending enough time looking at the map with her spiders, and just looking around to get an idea of how to get from here to there, Orchid sends a few of her spiders to scout the way. She takes a more direct route there than Mei does, but she's aware that her fellow Paladin is there. 

:'''{{#var:1154|Wandering Dog (1154)}} has posed:''' As the one guy recognizes him, Wandering Dog honestly doesn't recall what story he's talking about or if it's real or not. Three centuries is a long time to remember everything you've ever done. However, he grins confidently, and at the least, his Western features help with his identity. "Of course I'm /the/ Wandering Dog! And of course I did. With a punch like this..." Moving towards the open space of the plaza, Wandering Dog suddenly jabs out. His motions are super fluid, stretching out into a punch and back like it was nothing, with pure muscle memory. If these guys don't know much about martial arts, it's probably nothing special, though. "Demons. Well, that's no good. While I could wait until sundown, think it'd be better to be a little proactive in my search. If I get to punch some demons in the process, well, they'll be writing another story about me! Have a good evening." And then, Wandering Dog looks around the plaza, searching for someone who might be willing to direct foreigners. Once he finds them, well, he has plenty of money to use to try and bribe his way to the more illicit stuff, looking for the shadiest teahouse he can find. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Suspicious alleys are definitely the best way to get places. Definitely. After Wandering Dog impresses the youths (and two of the three definitely are impressed; the third picks up on the amazement a second later) and pays off a somewhat sleazy-looking local for directions, all the various foreign parties are well on their way to the place of ill repute. The route is somewhat tricky to navigate; it looks like the path abruptly turns into a canal, cutting off that part of town with the waterways that dot the city. The actual entrance that is pointed out is on the water, with stone steps leading up from the water to a sturdy pier made of interlocking stone slabs. A man in a conical straw hat sits in a boat down by the stairs, snoring away. It looks like he might be waiting for people to need a lift away from there. The establishment is, based on the small, subtle sign, the House of Drowned Lilies. The front door is a curtain of red and gold silk, edged in azure, which nonetheless effectively keeps the low murmur of chatter inside from drifting out. The teahouse is laid out with round tables evenly spaced around the outer perimeter of the room, with more of those curtains hanging down between tables, giving an illusion of privacy that seems fairly effective. The middle of the room is dominated by a rock garden, of all things, with intricate patterns raked in sand and arranged with stones. Another pair of curtained doorways are visible on the far side of the room, one on the left side and the other on the right. Most of the tables are filled. Several women dressed as servants roam the room, quietly addressing the occupants, bringing and pouring tea and spirits, and providing pipes and other such luxuries to the customers. They are uniformly lovely, with long, blue-tinted black hair, porcelain skin, and big, dark eyes. They look like they must be sisters. A tall man with thick black hair pulled back into a tail stands by the edge of the garden, arms folded. He's dressed in loose-fitting black trousers and a dark red coat that drapes off his wide shoulders, covering most of his body. A spear wrapped tightly and fully in brown cloth is slung across his back. His face bears a look of tension, and a finger-width burn scar runs under his left eye. He doesn't seem to be there with anyone. One of the servers waits at the door, and greets each of you in turn with a polite bow, a smile, and a silent gesture towards one of the open tables. She doesn't say anything, and doesn't meet your eyes. 

:'''{{#var:1134|Mei Hatsume (1134)}} has posed:'''      Mei adjusts her backpack as she scoots along, taking in more of the sights and coming ever closer to getting distracted by even more shiny things away from her task of investigating someone more nebulously shiny. Her indirect path does make it easier for her to finally realize that Orchid is there, but the hero-in-training doesn't greet her directly.      ... Or at all. How rude. She does glance at the spiders from a distance, however, furrowing her brow as some gears start to click and a wide grin crosses her face.      A wider grin, anyway. Said grin only grows wider when she spots the waterway, taking the opportunity to show off and skimming the surface of the water with creative use of her hover boots along with wires launched from her harness to help pull her along rapidly.      It's all done with all the expected whooping and hollering of someone showing off their gadgets, of course. Why wouldn't she take the the opportunity to draw some attention her way?      Once inside, Mei takes a moment to absorb the sights of the unnaturally pretty servers and the out-of-place-yet-sort-of-not man, and then she takes a seat at an empty table. She doesn't say anything just yet, trying to blend in as best she can after that brief bout of showboating on the way in.      Maybe her hair will help her fit in, at least. 

:'''{{#var:1154|Wandering Dog (1154)}} has posed:''' Waterways? Please, Wandering Dog's a Water Aspect. The essence that flows through his body allows him to run across the surface of the canals, dashing across the water as if it was solid land. He can see Mei while he does so, and pegs her as a Multiversal pretty much immediately, though he doesn't say anything to her except grin in her direction once he reaches the pier. Instead, he scans the House of the Drowned Lilies, looking at the boatman and the tables, as well as the lovely servers...but his eyes drift to the man with the spear most of all. They linger on him for several moments, as well as that spear, until Wandering Dog is seated in the table. Once there, he talks to the others present... "Yo. Name's Wandering Dog. It's a pleasure. ...Wait, we've met, haven't we? Yeah, yeah. I recognize you and your gear now. Good to see you...uh, what was your name? Sorry, forgot." Wandering Dog just laughs, not actually embarassed. When the servers come around, he'll order whatever looks most 'unique'. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      A few times Orchid takes shortcuts by jumping over the canals, as such is her style. While, yes, she is drawing attention to herself, she is also keeping quiet eyes on the alleys around her. She'll play bait, if there is any petty trouble today.     So just how identical are these sisters? Such is Orchid's question, as she enters the tea-house. Here in a strange land, she'll try to be polite, but her eyes are around the building, one spider sneaking onto the rowboat outside. She takes a seat, keeping her eyes open. "Hello Mei... And you're Wandering Dog, I believe," she says to the man. Her spies also notice a bird that seems to be following them. Chance? Maybe, but Orchid likes to keep all her eyes open. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     The Oriole, staying quiet, tails along Wandering Dog all the way to the teahouse... but the sudden SCREAMING and whooping that's tailing everyone means that the bird takes a SWIFT swing around--...     But rather than accost Mei for whatever reason, the bird swoops about - and, almost instantly, melds like quicksilver from a male oriole to a female red-tailed hawk...     And quietly DIVEBOMBS one of the spiders in the alley, aiming to pin it to the ground and corner it for a better look.     Which entails whacking it a few times with heavy pecks and SWIFTLY EXAMINING IT from every angle.. assuming it can pin the thing! 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' There's definitely people pointing and gasping, but nobody tries to stop the rather superhuman methods of trailblazing. Good thing, too. That'd just be inconvenient. The chairs are wooden, but comfortably-shaped. One of the servers comes over, bows, and awaits an order -- which Wandering Dog provides. She recommends some sort of wine that 'tastes like dreams.' A weird turn of phrase, but that sure seems to be the order of the day in here. Closer inspection during the closer encounter finds that she's... pretty much identical to the others. They look like they must be twin sisters, or however many they are. They don't look artificial, though; there are natural blemishes that are covered with makeup, but discernable through careful observation. None of them make eye contact. She disappears behind the lefthand curtain, and returns shortly after with a tray, a bottle, and a number of cups. The woman places them in front of each person, and unless indicated otherwise, pours pale wine into each one, then leaves the bottle in the middle of the table. She bows, and retreats, leaving the group to their privacy. The man in the center of the room turns his head to look at the group. He stares for a moment or two, then turns away. He's watching the righthand curtain, apparently waiting for someone. While he's idle, he reaches above his head and takes a long, narrow-headed rake from an overhead rack, and begins carefully modifying the whirls in the garden. The spider in the boat finds a great place to listen to a snoring sailor. 

:'''{{#var:1134|Mei Hatsume (1134)}} has posed:'''      It's that martial artist again! It's... "... Wandering Dog? Oh, from the... Last time!" Where was it again? Details, details. Mei smiles broadly as she pushes her goggles up and pats her chest in greeting. "Mei Hatsume, at your service! You've been..."      Wait. This was an investigation, not an attention-drawing spree. She glances around briefly, then lowers her voice while nodding towards Orchid in greeting. "That's right. So what's the scoop on this place, anyway? Have you heard anything... Strange?"      Subtle. Spotting the wine, Mei furrows her brow without saying anything to the server before glancing towards the two in turn. "... Did they check for ID?"      It's a legitimate question for a minor! As she asks, however, she keeps an eye on the unidentified man, and she gestures towards him with her head while reaching for one of the cups. "Very interesting... Smell to this. Is it safe?" 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''     The good news is that the spider was watching the bird, and so has enough warning to try and get out of the way. The bad news is that it doesn't get far enough away. So back in the 'tea' house, Orchid is putting a hand over her face, groaning a little. "Do either of you know a shapeshifer? Someone's assaulting one of my spider-drones," she mutters. "As far as local troubles, I've heard some things about pirates, and about demons, both of which lead here." She doesn't look much at the wine yet, even if it is a little rude to do so, she's got other things on her mind. "As far as safe goes, I'm not sure, which makes it more interesting." 

:'''{{#var:1154|Wandering Dog (1154)}} has posed:''' "Yep, that's the name." Wandering Dog replies to Orchid, not feeling odd about it. He's famous everywhere, or so he likes to believe. As Mei lowers her voice, he laughs again slightly, but plays along, lowering his own. "Oh, have I heard a lot. Apparently demons might have been summoned here. That man," Wandering Dog glances at the spearman, noticing Mei keeping an eye on him, "is a demon-hunter. Guessing he's Due Giang of the Golden Brothers. Probably their boss." Since they're investigating, Wandering Dog assumes the others have heard of the Golden Brothers. Wandering Dog also takes up the alcohol to sniff it, before taking a drink. It better taste like dreams, otherwise it's a waste of money! "Check for ID? What? Why would they do that?" It's Orchid that gets Wandering Dog scrunching his face, with the mention of shapeshifter. "Only shapeshifters I know of are part of the Anathema. Lunars. Degnerates and tricksters, the lot of them. Why, did you encounter one?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     The Lunar's quick to scan over the drone, rapidly determining that it has no symbols to identify its origins, and smells FAR too clean to have been lurking in the dank and strange places of An-Teng for terribly long.     And it's probably not even OF Creation. It looks closer to some of Staren's toys.     The bird then displays uncanny situational awareness. As more drones round the corner in the alley... it INSTANTLY SPRINGS into the sky, jumping a full ten feet without even spreading its wings. Claws slam into the wall and it SPRINGS off the building, only to then take wing and dive towards the teahouse!     Of course, a hawk doesn't go soaring into the teahouse.     Instead, a white-furred young cat with light blue eyes, perhaps two or three years old, conspicuously darts its way into the place, and begins to clean itself under a nearby, unoccupied table. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Despite the open conversation, it doesn't seem like the man in question -- likely Due Giang, as surmised -- hears them. Discretion seems to be part of the services offered, at least between the curtains that flank the tables. The wine, meanwhile, smells very faintly sweet and not like alcohol at all. It tastes the same, with a gentle and pleasant flavor, but hardly a taste 'like dreams' -- until it's down, anyway, and then it creates a warm feeling in the belly, and a euphoric, drifting sensation exactly like you were having a dream. It's the sort of sensation associated with curling up in a warm bed on a cold night and having /exactly/ the right pillow, and not quite being asleep yet but feeling just so comfortable at the edge of it... Worth whatever price you're going to pay, certainly. Another woman, the only one who doesn't look like the something-tuplets serving patrons, steps out of the righthand curtain. She's dressed in black silks covered in a muted lily pattern, with long, black hair and out-of-place gloves of some kind of reddish leather that extend up under her sleeves. She smiles. "Due Giang. Welcome to my establishment. Do you find everything to your liking?" "No," the man says. He doesn't look up from the garden. "I don't like your idea of servants." Her smile fades very slightly. "Then it's best if you do not linger, isn't it. Are you interested in dealing with our mutual problem?" "The Lintha?" Due Giang finishes his modification. He lifts the rake to his shoulder. "I suppose. Your message said they have an enclave not far from the city, right? If they're on the water, that won't be easy to deal with..." He sucks his teeth, deliberately provocatively. She doesn't take the bait. "Negotiating price? I thought you were demon-hunters, not mercenaries." That smile fades away. "You want an entrance into the City of Dead Flowers. I can provide the necessary workings to safely traverse the shadowland. Your less enlightened brethren should be safe from the things without teeth." Due Giang nods, grunting. "It'll have to do." He looks down at the garden, then finally looks her in the eye. "You know I'm going to shut you down when we're through there, don't you, Tidings?" Empty Tidings smiles serenely. "I know you're going to try." She inclines her head. "The enclave is two days' ride west, along the south bank of the river. Bring me records of their transactions or proof of where they're coming from on the coast, and you'll have your wards." Due Giang nods, scowls, and then turns on a heel and stalks out of the building. 

:'''{{#var:1134|Mei Hatsume (1134)}} has posed:'''      "Shapeshifter? Hmm... None I know of!" Mei replies cheerfully, shuffling around in her seat before finally leaning back and relaxing. Coincidentally, that's when Wandering Dog gives her a potential identity for the spearman. It's a logical conclusion, further bolstered by the fact that said spearman is even addressed by that same name soon thereafter!      And then that's followed by several other names being dropped all at once. City of Dead Flowers? Lintha? Tidings? Teethless monsters? A potential spat between Due Giang and this Tidings person? Mei resists the urge to take visible notes as she eavesdrops on all of that, doing some mental gymnastics to try and srot it all out while taking small sips from her cup.      Hopefully, nobody'll notice. She waits for Due Giang to make his exit before leaning forward on the table again and glancing towards the assembled group. "... west, right? Hmm... Have you packed any travel gear? There might be a bit of a hike to keep up~"      She sounds excited, at least. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Orchid turns in her chair to watch the cat enter. The shapeshifter let her spider go, so she's inclined to not take any overt action yet... But she'll keep an eye on the other would-be spy. She turns again, listening to the woman and the man with the spear talking. She'll look up the terms later, but given how steeped in magic this place is, the databases will likely yield little assistance. "To the West, yes. Two days ride... I could cover that in a few hours, if need be." 

:'''{{#var:1154|Wandering Dog (1154)}} has posed:''' Well, that's certainly a conversation. Wandering Dog knows who Empty Tidings is, and wasn't expecting her to be the owner of this establishment and the potential demon-trafficking within. As they listen, Dog continues to drink from his cup. Absolutely worth the price. "Don't worry about the bill, I'll handle it." A raise of his cup back to his lips with that. Once Mei speaks up again... "I've always got what I need to travel. Sounds like an adventure, certainly." Even if the Lintha will have their uses in the coming times, Wandering Dog can't pass up a chance to maybe punch them in the teeth. For now, he'll wait til the drink's empty to leave. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     As soon as the cat is done licking its paws and otherwise grooming itself, it moseys around this way and that like any cat would in a fairly quiet place. This includes rubbing the side of its head against a chair or two.     The cat eventually pitter-prance-moseys towards Wandering Dog's party and maneuvers to rub its head against first his leg, then Mei's, and finally Orchid's.     Assuming it isn't interrupted, it'll continue to go along on its business, which involves dashing over to one of the teahouse curtains and batting at it with a paw when it sways in a breeze. 
}}

5912/Heavy Robotic Signatures Detected

2018-06-17T08:08:44Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/06/16 |Location=Origin System |Synopsis=Zek wants a spaceship, so he enlists some help in clearing it out. It turns out it's a bit more compli..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/06/16
|Location=Origin System
|Synopsis=Zek wants a spaceship, so he enlists some help in clearing it out. It turns out it's a bit more complicated than that.
|Cast of Characters=6393, 964, 6381, 10, 42, 596
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' The target vessel is an unnamed Corpus cargo vessel of somewhat substantial size. The ship itself is long and boxy, comprised of multiple distinct segments, with vast rectangular compartments affixed to a central spine. It isn't exactly heavily armed; it's equipped with point defense weapons, apparently for deflecting debris, and the shield technology that sheathes it in a protective barrier is only going to do so much against determined attackers. Except Zek wants it intact, so just shooting the hell out of it is kind of out. The Warpgate opens to a derelict station in the vicinity of Neptune. The cargo vessel has docked there for reasons unknown. Exterior viewports show its massive bulk shadowing one side of the station. The path to the airlock is pretty straightforward, with dark corridors with high-ceilings lit by dense, faintly-glowing white vine clusters growing along the ceiling. Ornamental pools of stagnant water dot the path along the way. Zek leads the pack. He's checking corners with his assault rifle, and giving a last-second briefing on the way. So far, it's been quiet as a tomb. <"The plan is simple,"> Zek transmits. <"I'll make my way to the bridge and lock down navigation while the rest of you draw out the security forces. Then, we exterminate the crew and secure the vessel. After enough casualties, the captain will probably call for an evacuation, especially if they spot a Warframe in action."> Apparently, their reputation is somewhat well-deserved. Zek rounds a corner, lifts his gun, and fires a shot that barely makes a cough. There's an electronic crackling, and the sound of something plastic and metal hitting the ground heavily. A small security drone, previously hanging around the airlock, is sparking on the ground with a hole in its primary optical sensor. He moves up to it, nudges it with one foot, and then steps over to the console adjacent to the secured airlock. <"This ship pattern is usually heavily mechanized, so there shouldn't be a lot of people aboard. Expect mostly MOA attack bipeds and Osprey drones in support. We'll talk about splitting up what we find once it's all clear."> The faceless Warframe turns its black visored head back towards the group. <"Any last-second questions?"> 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' On one hand, Corpus designs were so... /boring/ and filled with so many angular bits and the like, all the way from their ships to their weapons. They couldn't be faulted for functional. Ergonomics? ... Nah, we'll go with profit margins. Ignoring that, though with a slightly more pressing concern as to why it docked with a derelict as it had here, Kushiko in the guise of Mag that had arrived and kept in sync with Zek's movements, the rifle she's using one of those boxier designs--the Lanka as it is better known, but attached to her hips is something more Tenno-made, as is a strange looking shrunken down disc-looking thing on the underside of her right limb. <"Only thing I'm wondering is why it docked here."> the other faceless Warframe notes. Well, faceless beyond that gilded monocular point in the center of hers--it's?--head. Certainly looks feminine, ninja-tabi-styled boots and all as she gives the drone a mild prod with her foot. Back to the matters at hand, she situates at the other side of the door and prepares herself. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova has seen her fair share of spacestations and ships, so this is nothing all that new to her. She's also worked with a Warframe in the past, so those aren't either. Nova walks up to the downed security drone, shifting her large canister rifle to rest over her shoulder. Crouching down to examine the machine, she hmms to herself, "Shouldn't be a problem..."     The warning about what to expect does draw Nova's attention, "Primarily machines?" She rises, "Damn, I hate fighting machines. Can't read them." Nova ejects her clip for a moment, checking it, before sliding it back in and loading a round.     Nova quickly raises her rifle and fires off a single shot. The 25mm bullet smashes into another security drone returning from a patrol of the station. Nova turns back to prepare for the breach, smirking at Zek, "No questions." She lowers her visor down over her eyes and readies herself. 

:'''{{#var:10|Crys Gattz (10)}} has posed:''' Crys Gattz has no issues with not shooting and she hears its mostly drones? Memories of the mines on Ragol come back to her for a moment, She has an idea of what to do as they get ready to go she looks to Zek. "I presume if they bug out let me run?" She looks to the Target wondering for a moment about this, as she now starts to check her gear. She taps a button on her bracer. A huge claw rezzes into being the entire thing goes up her arm the entire way and looks like she just tore it off some robot, at the end are a trio of Phamic claws intended to tear through heavy combat units of flesh or metal. In her off hand appears some kind of energy pistol. "I like machines and oh a Terran Ghost?" She's an old elite for those who go digging there's no real hiding it. She gives the tenno a look over for a moment then seems to be ready to go. (OOC The Fal Claw https://imgur.com/a/GcsoPFe ) 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren's in his heavier armor at the moment. The extra defense is welcome, but partly he kind of feels like his more iconic armor might have his reputation sullied, if it's seen mowing down corpus. Although he does plan to offer them the chance to surrender. Rather than the usual energy rifle and pistol, given the briefing on the enemy's defenses, he's carrying a railgun in 'assault rifle' form-factor, and has one of the Deadalus SMGs clipped to his waist. He shakes his head at the question about questions, and then steps in front of the airlock, ready to kick down the front door.     Metaphorically speaking. He waits for Zek to operate it, obviously. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:'''     For reasons unknown (to everyone else), by the time the whole group arrives at 'the junction of no return', a piece of the wall stops leaning on itself and stands up straight. A second later, it ceases being all gunmetal and boring brushed blue, and fizzles down to a matte black and iridescent hexagonal underlayer, so that it stops pretending to be a wall either.     <<"Actually, I've got one. How much of this ship do you need? As in, outside a secure hull and functioning engines, obviously. What're you planning to do with it?">> A tiny two-fingered wave goes in Kushiko's direction, with glossy black-clad digits, but the degree of smug behind the helmet is sadly impossible to tell, marked with only three softly glowing gold dots. 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' The Warframe in the lead nods slightly at Crys. <"They can run if they want. Unless you're particularly worried about combat footage getting leaked, I don't have any reason to shoot down escape pods today."> Zek could think of a few reasons to have to, but things isn't one of those days. <"It needs to be structurally sound with intact propulsion, life support and auxiliary power,"> Zek tells the definitely-not-smug half of Zwei. <"I was planning to remove the spine and all the cargo modules once we'd searched them, and all that extra mass and power draw being cut will drastically reduce power requirements and stress on the engines. Actually,"> he admits, <"I picked this model because it should be easy to isolate its primary reactor and remove it from the grid. I thought you might want it."> That doesn't technically answer what he wants the ship for, but it does indicate what he plans to 'do' with it, so... half credit? <"Yeah, I was wondering about that, too,"> Zek tells Kushiko. <"There doesn't seem to be anything here. If I had to guess, I'd say there's another ship in the station's shadow and they're up to something illegal."> The terminal chirps as he cracks the security encryption. The second drone coming down makes his head twitch towards it, then back to Nova, nodding slightly. <"Won't matter much in a little while, though,"> he adds. The airlock -- big enough to drive a truck through -- opens. Sections recede into the walls. A second does the same at the far end, revealing a large open area with catwalks criss-crossing the space above. The ceiling is angled upwards in a manner vaguely reminsicent of a church's interior, with massive windows along the interior slopes of the 'roof' looking out on the stars like some sort of hugely unnecessary skylights. Cargo containers are scattered around, secured to the deck but apparently organized with no particular rhyme or reason. Zek moves in. He looks left, looks right, and then jumps straight up, vaulting twenty feet into the air and grasping a narrow protrusion in the wall. <"I don't think I need to tell any of you how to find something and shoot it. I'll link back up with you soon."> He swings around one-handed, scaling higher, and then triggers a catch and slides into a maintenance shaft just below the rooftop, letting it click closed behind him. As for options for things to find and shoot: well, there's a few, actually. Square double doors towards the bow and stern in the far corners of the room, up on the catwalks, slide open. A pair of figures in grey environmental suits layered with armor plates over vitals and big, heavy, box-like helmets walk out of the one towards the bow. One's carrying a two-barreled (vertically-aligned) rifle, and the other is holding some kind of tablet computer in one hand, chatting in a trade language. "...margins will be through the roof after transfer. Then we can afford /real/ jobs." The one with the rifle shrugs his shoulders. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't gambled so much on the Index." "But he said the Void would make me rich if I had faith!" the first crewman whines. The door to the stern has, instead, four MOAs marching in formation, robots with two long legs and small 'bodies' equipped with what looks like laser turrets. There's a hovering drone above them, pointing what looks like a lighting array in cyan hues down on the MOAs' heads. They look an awful lot like a security patrol. If anyone had planned to be sneaky for very long, that's probably about to change. 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' If Kushiko-Mag had a sense to do something, it isn't evident in an immediate fashion, but the truth is that that familiar unit is simply tolerated for right now--had they not done what they did to help Zek, there's a non-zero chance she'd effortlessly flow into a more murderous mindset. ...alternatively that might be the part of Kushiko that is Mag that simply wants to kill. A slight grunt comes from her through that odd little Voidal echo of hers as she watches the airlock disengage. <"Wonderful. So something to deal with after the fact."> Which may require a diversion of some kind, unless someone here has a slightly more armed ship. In the meantime as she steps through, she gives the chapel-like entry a brief, contemplative look. <"Familiar as ever,"> she murmurs, mostly to herself, but audible enough for the others. <"Give me a heads up if you need anything cracked down here,"> she calls out to Zek. Not that she expects to, given the presence of others like Zwei (and to a lesser degree) Nova here, but if she's honest she'd prefer to do it herself. Immediately however, she takes her own leap upwards towards the catwalks for two reasons: one, she's got something of a sniping loadout. Well, technically sniping loadout. A small mechnical pulse as the Lanka charges in about a half second, and she squeezes the trigger at the same time that electromagnetic energy rises from her. A simple gesture, fingers outstretched as she drops a sphere of magnetizing energy on the MOAs themselves. Which is perfect for the shot to be caught by the field to plow into at least one of them, though only fragments of the railgun-launched projectile will remain. ... doesn't mean the spherical field doesn't remain hazardous while it stays there, and really becomes a rather excellent way for others to launch firepower into and shred the remaining MOAs. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     MOAs. As the shooting starts, Staren opens the door to the bow and levels his railrifle at the two guards. "That's the sound of us mowing down your security patrols. I'm going to give you one chance to surrender and walk away, start a new life in the Multiverse, there's a warpgate on the station." Assuming he doesn't have to cut the speech short and shoot them if they try to alert reinforcements. If they fire back at him, he keeps speeching while firing, bracing for the impacts on his armor. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     As soon as the large airlock doors open, Nova is off and running. She's taking in the large room quickly, sweeping her weapon around in search of targets. None initially found, Nova darts up to one of the larger cargo containers. She presses her back against it, going still for the moment. As Zek informs them that he will return, Nova replies of the radio, "Understood."     Well, at least not all the enemies are machines. Nova's senses alert her to the presence of the Corpus crewmen even before they enter through the opening doors. The security patrol though, that she doesn't notice until she hears the clanking of their metal feet on the deck plating. Nova glances out from her cover to get an idea of the location and composition of the patrol. She doesn't recognise any of the machines, but figures she'll learn about them soon enough.     Nova opens the compartment in her wrist armour, pulling out a small spherical device. She arms the grenades and then throws it over the pile of containers she's using as cover. The device bounces into the field placed by Kushiko, attracted into the center of it and the patrol before it explodes.     After the blast from her opening attack fades, Nova leans out from her cover, raising her rifle. She pulls the trigger, the weapon spitting out another of those large bullets. But it doesn't stop with one as Nova has switched it to over to automatic. Nova handles the recoil rather impressively as she fires controlled bursts into the group of MOAs, trying to finish of any that survived the grenade. 

:'''{{#var:10|Crys Gattz (10)}} has posed:''' Crys nods to Zek. "I got no issues with letting them run. If they run they are being smart." That's all the old Elite has to say she looks at Zwei for a moment her one eyes narrows. She looks to Zwei, she's sizing her up, but she's got a mission. She seems to be moving for Staren for a moment and looks like she's ready to work with him. "Like old times, ain't it Staren?" She looks over at the rest of the team in turn and gets ready to move. Crys wasn't planning to be too sneaky for too long as she keeps her weapons ready she does, however, pause for a moment she channels her internal energies for a moment and is now moving to stick to the wall and then move up to use the ceiling to get about as she keeps close to it she knows how seldom humans and the like herself? Look up. She's not yet just jumping into the fray just yet she's focused she's ready and it does not take long for her to drop in on the Moa's, putting the claw she has to use against the Moas. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:'''     This'd be the part where it might be apt to say 'Weiss seems surprised', but there's no way to intuit that from her body language, or total lack of face. 'Sounds surprised' is partially correct, but something of a fabrication; there's no way she doesn't have total modulation control over something fundamentally fake. <<"Huh. Not that I'm complaining, but you really only need the auxiliaries? Are you planning to replace the primary power planet with something of your own? Or is this about maintaining a low power signature?">> she asks in a faintly conversational fashion, falling in with the group and moving in stride to the door.     She doesn't hide the initial impression of the cargo hold though. <<"Jeez, who builds these? Space is supposed to be at a premium on a ship, even a naval one, but this place is practically a castle. What the heck are the life support costs? Plus, giant windows looking straight into space? Are they just to show off or something?">> The fact that Kushiko says they look 'familiar' is only more bewildering. Speaking of bewildering: <<Staren hasn't changed I see.>> ||Was there any expectation that he would?|| <<I guess it'd be strange if he did.>> ||It would be disappointing.||     Weiss takes a few accelerated steps into the cargo hold and then a short hop takes her far into the air as tiny thrusters light up blue-white on her black exoskeleton, soaring up to the relevant catwalk with such precision that it looks more like someone had been rewinded footage of her falling off of it. She completely ignores the MOAs for the moment, and instead focuses in on the two security guards, sweeping all of her currently allocated scanning power into a narrowed beam at just the two of them, ignoring the boxy helmets and instead peeking at the gooey bits behind them.      <<"Okay gentlemen, you're going to want to get off here! Unfortunately, you're also not going anywhere until you tell me what this ship is doing here, what it's carrying, why nobody else is here, where you plan on going next, and how many of you are aboard!">> Zwei doesn't /particularly/ expect they'll volunteer all the information right away, which is why Weiss is 'CAT scanning' their brainmeats for aggregated data when they're going to lie or withhold something and catch anything that passes through their thoughts at the moment.     Just to be sure however, the giant 'cathedral windows' give off a loud, resonant thump, and a large section of the tapestry of stars outside de-rezzes into a huge black shape crouched on the angled glass, staring in with burning gold 'helmet slit' optics. The implied threat is two ways: that Asche could break it at any second, and that he could easily get anyone who escapes the ship itself. 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' <"I'm going to retrofit the ship with something different,"> Zek tells Weiss, speaking quietly over comms, despite his lack of a speech-generating apparatus on his Warframe. He must be being quiet, wherever he is. <"Either way, I didn't think saying thank-you would be enough."> The shooting starts rather abruptly. The magnetic field that springs up turns to a shimmering bubble, warping light just enough to make it clear where it's been placed. The MOAs stagger under it, and their laser turrets extend and deploy, a quartet of high-pitched electronic screeches filling the room as the Corpus robots become very aware of the danger they're faced with. Not that it really helps them. The Lanka shot neatly drops one, catapulting it off its feet and sending it in a weirdly looping fall thanks to the wonders of magical magnetism. The others begin to fire back, hosing the space around the door with pulse laser fire and raking the space between the airlock and Nova's concealed position the moment she so much as makes an indication she's extant. The drone above them turns up the intensity of its spotlight, giving them some kind of gentle glow, because apparently proper lighting is important for the Corpus? The grenade goes off. The MOAs scatter, two of them running towards stairs leading to the deck, and the third trying to limp across the catwalk from the damage it's obviously sustained. One half of it is shredded from the blast; the rest is mostly intact. Surprisingly, the grenade didn't do as much damage as one would expect... and it didn't touch that drone that's hovering around them, silently shining that kind of weird spotlight down on the robotic units. They move to flank. Shots rain down from above, but Nova's canister rifle hammers shot after shot into the damaged MOA and, with a crackle and a flicker of cyan light, breaches the shield and tears it to pieces. The other two are nearing ground level, but Crys gets into the mix, knocking one off its feet and finding her claw's edges having a hard time penetrating the shield. When she puts enough force into it, she punches through, finding the armor beneath it an easier victim for claw-based robotic evisceration, taking it out of combat remarkably quickly. The Crewmen, meanwhile, do what Crewmen do: they freak out. The one with the datapad looks up, stunned, and then bolts for the door. The other one swings up his two-barreled plasma rifle and starts laying into Staren with a respectable amount of automatic weapons-fire. The exchange of fire goes poorly for him, though, and one of the traded shots punches through his physical armor and drops him behind a metal plate on the catwalk. 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' The panicked Crewman gets behind cover, not quite reaching the door, ending up using a vertical container as a piece of concealment. "Who in the Void are you people?!" he yells, shouting in that sharp-sounding trade language, his voice metallic from the helmet he's wearing. "I'm not telling you anything!!" '...they should have offloaded the kid by now,' he's thinking. 'Just gotta hold out until they're back...' Weiss gets the impression he's working on some kind of delaying tactic, and that the cover he's behind is not actually just a big metal box. The other guy isn't thinking much of anything, except that he's using emergency supplies to stop the awful bleeding. He's not dead, but he's too injured to do much besides battlefield triage and keep one hand on his weapon. He /really/ wants to shoot Staren again, though. Alarms start to go off, buzzing angrily in the background. There's another electronic shriek from the door to the stern. It swings open, and another quartet of MOAs charge in, scattering through the room. They start laying down fire on the ground floor, while a larger, red-suited Crewman behind them steps out through the door behind them, swinging a triple-barreled energy weapon into line and promptly dumping a frankly unreasonable amount of laser fire down-range towards Weiss. The injured Crewman scrambles to get further away from her while that happens. Friendly fire is never actually that friendly. 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' <"Tch."> This is the kind of verbal response that is all that Kushiko feels like giving at this point, because with the oncoming herd of MOAs, squawking and throwing down so much pulsefire amidst the alarms going off, something doesn't feel right about this little situation. A glint of her shields as some of that firepower the angry birds seem intent on delivering, and abruptly Kushiko twists, launching herself forward rapidly towards the door to the stern. But as she does so, she releases another bundle of electromagnetic energy for a multipurpose reason. It *sounds* like an audible shockwave as she drops from her launch forward, planting two hands on the catwalk's surface as the release of energy--polarizing energy--to let it cascade over much of the cargo room itself, though the lion's share of the focus is on the MOAs amidst the Corpus. This particular instance of her electromagnetic mastery plays out in that energy pulse that can very well disable lesser robotic foes, paralyzing them and making them unable to fight back. Oh, and it'll end up jamming some guns while doing a handy, /nasty/ job of killing their shields--and adding those same shields to others here, if they have the capacitance for it. Even if they don't, some still might get a rather nice jolt of energy to their systems. <"Hit 'em hard!"> 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     The fleeing crewman is extraordinarily lucky, at least for several seconds. Then he probably becomes very unlucky. "Well. I guess that's that, then." Staren sighs, reaches into his bag, and throws a plasma grenade over the cover the guy is hiding behind.     Then reinforcements come in, and Staren fires a wild burst of railgun slugs in their general direction to make them keep their heads down (do MOAs' programming even care?) before running to get behind one of the cargo containers in the entry room.     From there he can play COVER SHOOTER 2018 with the moas. The front of his armor is already scuffed, scratched, and dented from the first guy's fire -- Staren tries not to add to that.     "Same deal to you!" He shouts to the guy in red. "Surrender and leave, you can't win this!" 

:'''{{#var:10|Crys Gattz (10)}} has posed:''' the Battle is joined and Crys is working she has to deal with a very different type of shield than she's used to it. She does well enough putting the claw to use and it soon finds she's having a lot better luck as she gets through the shield and she will soon be springing for another one, firing a pistol at the next few drones to comes with them. She's got to admit these guys are packing better hardware than she though and it's likely? Non Elites would be having a hell of a time busting in like this. More MOA's and crewmen arrive, with some of those Crewmen packing far heavier weapons. It seems things are heating up now at this point and there's even more Moa's. "ZONDE!" That's when the lighting flies from her fingertips into the now larger mass of MOA's its time to see how good the Corpus is about surge protector use. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:'''     <<"Well then, far be it from me to decline~">> Weiss says back to Zek, doing a little fake curtsy despite the fact there's no way he can see it through the comm. <<"Consider us even, then~">> Keeping up a little radio conversation on the side is a trivial use of computing resources. No reason not to show some gratitude.     Pretty soon she's staring down a terrified crewman though, tilting her head slowly as he rambles while wearing a helmet that makes her somehow even more faceless than him. She leaves the one bleeding on the ground, but the toe of her armoured boot slips under his gun and kick-flips it into the air, where she grabs it in her off hand and links to its targeting computer. Given any kind of charging handle whatsoever, she'll pull it just for dramatic effect.     <<"Oh, you're telling me whether you actually do it or not. Who's this kid? More Tenno? Do you have a collection of them or something, still in their original packaging?">> Unless she gets an immediately useful answer, she puts the punctuation mark on that sentence with a one-handed pivot of the stolen weapon and a loud shot through the Corpus crewman's thigh. <<"C'mon, you're a day away from changing jobs, right? Why die now? Isn't that kind of cliche?">> While she's talking however, still reading the crewman's thoughts, Asche perched like a gargoyle on the glass is focused on the container, firing his own tactical scanners through it to assess what could be inside the thing, and if it's a hazard Weiss needs to be stepping away from. ||Security alert throughout the ship. Likely to elevate to full lockdown if not addressed within the next 360 seconds.|| <<Kind of busy though. Can't the murderhobos handle it?>> ||Shooting, yes. The entire situation, unlikely.|| <<Okay. I can't exactly ignore this guy just yet. 45 seconds until I scout for a security console. 90 seconds until aborting interrogation, allowing a 30 second capture window after. I'll pick a console within 160 seconds total travel.>> ||Standby for castle procedures.||     When the big guy gets his target lock on Weiss, Asche disappears from the outer window with a splash of red tint to the blue planet outside, and then drops his bulk straight just past the catwalk inside, landing on a stacked cargo container just high enough to screen Weiss with his body, and carving deep gouges into it with his full weight on those talon-like feet. His center mass, all sloped and angled torso and shoulder plating, is what eats the barrage of fire. The translucent hexagonal weave coruscates and sparks white under the carbon black, spreading small ripples of light across the armour's surface where the bolts shower down on it, quickly starting to look like a constellation of glowing coals, and starting to smoke and smell like one too.     The barrage is going to be promptly terminated when Asche levels an oversized arm, depresses his wrist, and briefly punctuates the sound of Corpus weapons fire with the sharp, high-pitched, electrical bark of a low-yield RAISER being fired. Once. Center mass. Fusion payload. It'll get slightly more loud if Weiss actually has to abandon /her/ job too and shoot Staren's grenade out of the air too, given she is trying to interrogate here. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     The pulse laser fire from the MOAs isn't that heavy, so Nova handles it by remaining behind her cover while she trades fire with her rifle. The fact that her bullets aren't going straight through right from the beginning doesn't go unnoticed, "These things have shields too!?" It's while Nova is reloading, sliding a new clip into her rifle, that Kushiko makes the group aware of her plan. Plotting to take advantage of it, Nova activates her cloak, the field of blue light washing over her as it makes her invisible.     The MOAs are likely left firing at Nova's former position as she stalks around the cargo bay, quickly making her way towards a new firing angle for a better advantage.     Slipping behind a new cargo container, Nova invisibly crouches and raises her rifle to aim at the new MOAs. She waits intently as she stares down her scope, holding fire and hiding her position until the right moment...     ... The energy pulse is unleashed, at which point Nova fires off a shot before switching targets and firing another. She's aiming for the MOAs' turrets, the only obvious vulnerable point that she can identify. With each shot, her cloak shimmers, briefly revealing her location. 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' <"Great."> Zek sounds quietly relieved, like it was a weight off his shoulders. <"Just let me know if there's anything else you're looking for."> Electromagnets get heavily involved very suddenly. The combination of Kushiko's magnetic powers combined with Crys' somewhat more legitimately magical lightning does exactly what you'd expect to a bunch of robots: it scrambles the hell out of all their useful functions. The MOAs start firing wildly rather than in some kind of focused attack pattern, their basic flanking maneuvers turning into chaotic wheeling as they rush around, throwing sparks and turning the whole room into a more dangerous kill zone than it was before. At least it's not as focused? Staren and Nova exchange fire with the scrambled MOAs, and without their shields, it goes over much, much better. The turrets come off one after another, the vulnerable points of contact blasted off by precision fire. The MOAs on the ground floor get shot down by Staren, clearing the ground and keeping them from suffering an unfortunate flanking attack. It turns out that they /don't/ have any sense of self-preservation; they're actually just a bunch of dumb attack drones with no real intelligence to speak of, and put themselves into harm's way if it means a better firing solution. In a long span of frenzied fire, the chamber is largely cleared of MOAs, with the remainder lacking weapons with which to threaten anyone, staggering around drunkenly as they struggle to do anything at all. Weiss menaces a Crewman, backed into a corner while his injured buddy is uselessly trying to keep himself from bleeding to death. He is absolutely thinking 'surrender' but can't make his voice work enough to insist upon it. The container, meanwhile, is actually stuffed full of collapsed, ready-to-deploy drone units, each of them equipped with some kind of miniaturized mine layer. They're in an active power cycle right now, coming online pretty quickly. "I, I -- Agh!!" Getting shot in the leg does not do wonders for the Crewman's morale. He grabs at it and backs himself into a corner, whimpering. "Not -- no! Why would they be -- /them/!" The undercurrent of fear at the mere idea that they'd have Tenno is easily detectable. So is the fragments of thoughts, bits drifting between awful jolts of red-hot pain: '-- trouble than they're worth I'm gonna die oh Void don't let me should've never taken this job Nef Anyo doesn't pay enough --' Asche body-blocks the heavy automatic fire. The red-armored Corpus touches something on a panel on his arm, and a pair of drone units detach from a backpack he's toting around, shining those blue-tinted spotlights on him. He takes hold of his gun again -- and then promptly gets shot in the chest, catapulted backwards through the door with a bright flash of electric blue. The drones follow, lazily floating along. The door automatically slams shut between him and the room. Zek's voice comes over comms: <"Bridge secured. Looks like the captain isn't here, though. That's weird, right?"> As if to punctuate this weirdness, a barrage of plasma fire comes hurtling through the airlock, shredding cargo containers and ripping apart the sides of the already-tortured catwalk Asche landed on, making the entire middle swath of the room that /seemed/ safe a kill zone really quickly. The distant yells in that Corpus trade language aren't clearly audible, but they're coming from the derelict the group boarded from, seem to be heavily armed, and sound absolutely pissed. 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' There's something of a twofold thing here needing to be done--while in some circumstances the notion of letting the alarms run was good for say, getting a target you /wanted/ to come out, in this situation, it was not quite as good. And just as she suspected, leaving the alarms on as long as they have been presents the group with the following situation. But that doesn't mean that they can't take advantage of it. <"Try and keep them occupied! We have an idea."> And with that said, she swaps weapons first and hunts down--using her suit's sensors--a nearby security console. But as she swaps weapons, there's a simple reason for it--it won't do much /but/ when she makes that circular thing on her wrist expand and unfold into her hand, she gives it a hard /toss/, sending it into the barrage of firepower coming in, the blade rebounding and richocheting before returning to her as she hustles to a terminal. A terminal that she rapidly works at to quickly breach and gain access to two key things: first, airlock control. To preferably slam it closed on an unfortunate MOA or another crewman. The other would be to really screw with what the security systems are saying about where the group is. 

:'''{{#var:10|Crys Gattz (10)}} has posed:''' Crys Gattz notices the MOA's are getting dumber for lack of a better term and she'll make use of it. They are going all over the plac,e and now it's a more dangerous kill zone that mich is clear,. She takes several hits, her personal shield lessen the damage but the shots breach them and she takes a nasty hit, she's slowing down a bit from that but given her experiance she's able to push through it and then she weapon changes from her terrible claw and pistol. The new weapon that appears in her hands? It's a huge double handed chainsword, but less clunky than the Imperium of Man models, she turns it on and is quick to wade into the MOA's swinging it, aiming to cut down hopefully several in a swing or two. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     The MOAs are dwindling and the large Corpus crewman is sent flying like a ragdoll in an exagerated physics engine. Nova takes a few moments to breathe... Only for plasma fire to start streaking into the room. Nova holds position behind her trusty cargo containing cover... Only for it to betray her and crumble under the onslaught! One of the plasma bolts strikes Nova, who grunts in pain even as her cloak shimmers from the disruption.     Letting the invisibility field fade away once more, Nova jumps up from her now holed cover, moving towards the corridor to the airlock. She stops just short of it, pressing herself up against the wall next to the interior set of doors.     Nova glances down at the sizzling scorch mark on her suit. The pain is sharp, but tolerable for the moment. Seeing Kushiko going for a terminal, hopefully to close the airlock, Nova attempts to buy her the time she needs. Nova reaches for one of the cylinders attached to her leg. Pulling it free, she throws it down the airlock corridor towards the approaching enemies.     Another grenade, this one explodes in a dazzling display of energy, disrupting organic senses and mechanical sensors alike. A high-tec flash grenade if you will. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Moas don't dodge. Good to know.     And then reinforcements come from the last direction expected: Outside?! With plasma rapidly shredding his cover, Staren doesn't have long to come up with a solution. Unfortunately, he doesn't see a way to seal the airlock off quickly, so he settles for the best idea he can think of: Reaching into his bag and then running for cover, tossing a ball-like object through the airlock in passing.     It's like a flashbang that keeps going, the device a combination of powerful but compact cameras, lights, and speakers that detect eyes and optic lenses (aside from the party's) and shine blindingly bright lights in them, while emitting a deafeningly loud buzz.     Ideally, this would be enough to subdue a small crowd of people... but armed corpus may be a bit much for this riot control tool. Enough blind fire or clever use of moas or other gadgets can probably destroy it.     Still, that hopefully takes more than enough time for Staren to take cover in the room where Weiss is interrogating people and reload the magazine. "What do we have to sat to get your friends to give up already? Geeze!" 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:'''     <<"Oh good.">> Weiss says to the downed crewman, leaning over with her hands on her knees. <<"That makes this way less complicated. Answer the following: what is Nef Anyo paying you to do?">> Zwei has heard that name before, and so latches onto it the moment Weiss picks it up.     The questioning is only briefly interrupted when Asche reaches his enormous arm backwards, pivoting his shouder far beyond the human range of motion, and grabs hold of the drone container, letting it cook for just a couple of seconds before fastball hurling it into the airlock, directly into the path any incoming troopers will have to take, and splattering the mines inside wall to wall; the drone part is basically irrelevant. ||"Advise full disengage from the station, or else full decompression of cargo bay, Zek. Doing battle here continues to increase the likelihood of superstructure failure."||     Weiss slings the (less) injured crewman over her shoulder after that, descending from the catwalk right about when it's fit to violently collapse. <<"You know, if you tell me everything now, I won't have to abduct you, right?">> 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' Crys cleans up the MOAs that are still wandering around before they get their robotic wits about them. This turns out to be a really good idea, because they start to close to melee to jump kick people instead of standing and shooting as soon as their weapons are totally disabled, so clearing the floor is a good idea. They turn out to be easy targets, unskilled in any kind of melee combat, and really unsuited for it besides. Filling a narrow space with methods of dissuading an enemy advance turns out to work both ways. Riot control weapons and a high-tech flashbang go out, elliciting yells from the Corpus crew on the far side of the airlock. Glimpses down that direction will see several of the red-suited individuals, and someone in heavier armor wearing some kind of angular helmet, but they're not straying out from cover anymore. Shots return intermittently, keeping suppressing fire splashing across the edges of the airlock. Kushiko has a hell of a time getting to that panel. Her Glaive goes bouncing, and it comes back by the time she's started working on the panel, one blade wet with blood. Fortunately, it turns out that one is already cracked, and she gets in remarkably easily, starting to seal the airlock -- -- which then fills with partly-activated Ospreys and lots and lots of mines. They go everywhere, blanketing the far side of the airlock and the interior of it. The door cycles behind it, sealing up with some more scattered fire. The panicked and now injured crewman doesn't know what to say to Staren, making a pained and puzzled noise. He twitches his blank-faced, mask-and-helmet-wearing head towards Weiss, then away, then towards Weiss again. "D... deliver the kids to his people?" A beat. He cringes, raising his hands defensive. "Th-the Mycona kids! And some relic or, or something!" He makes a very undignified noise when he gets treated like a sack of potatoes. <"Roger. Engaging engines. You might feel a little jolt,"> Zek reports. There is a very large jolt. The entire ship shakes, and there's a sound of tearing metal that reverberates through the bay. The umbilical connecting the ship and the derelict juts out into space, and the airlock displays a slew of warnings, having gone into an emergency lockdown mode now that it's been damaged. As it clears the station, through the transparent ceiling sections, a briefly-visible shape of another Corpus vessel accelerating in the other direction can be glimpsed. The alarms change tone. It goes from an intruder alert to an emergency evacuation notice. That's probably better than the alternative. 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' Far and away, even Kushiko herself is surprised by the Ospreys and the mines they use going /tumbling/ there. She sweeps her hands over the holographic displays she summoned, largely to check to make sure--at least from here, that there's a positive seal--good, good. And the other, to check on the general layout of the ship--just in case. And then there is that /jolt/. She actually has to brace herself, planting a hand and using a magnetic charge to keep herself from tumbling, though it does make her bend forward, nearly flailing before righting herself once more. Once she's sure that the 'jolt' is through, she relaxed. Relatively. <"...Well, at least this is somewhat better,"> she dryly says, the frown audible in her voice, with or without having a face to present to others. She turns to Staren and Weiss' interrogation of the Having A Very Bad Day Corpus, finally able to pay attention at least to what's been said. The Mycona? Kids? She gives the tri-bladed weapon a slight twirl--the weapon floating slightly amidst her fingertips to shake off the blood from it before it compresses down and reattaches to her wrist. <"Everyone alright, and are we going to have any problems getting somewhere this ship can be retrofitted?"> The latter part is more to Zek than the other Elites here; the general evacuation alert is somewhat concerning, if she's going to be honest, heading over to check on Crys and Nova among the others. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova replies to the suppression fire with her own, leaning out from the behind the airlock bulkheads to fire bursts back at the Corpus party. Forced back behind her cover again when a shot comes close. She's careful to avoid aiming in Kushiko's direction, or her Warframe at any rate.     Then the sudden charge of flying robots and their mines. If those things get close... It's at that point that the airlock doors thankfully seal. And soon enough, the ship shudders as it pulls free of the dock. The evacuation alarm begins to sound, Nova noticing those crewman remaining on onboard beginning to jump ship so to speak. Nova hopes any robots left behind can be dealt with without needing to get aggressive.     Nova slowly lowers her rifle, letting the barrel rest against the floor as she slumps a little against the wall. She moves her free hand down to the plasma burn on her side. A wince from the pain. But at the enquiry from Kushiko, Nova looks up and replies, "I'll live." 

:'''{{#var:10|Crys Gattz (10)}} has posed:''' Crys Gattz finishes purging the MOA's and will banish her chainsaw weapon again she doesn't go unarmed as a sabre appears in hand, with some sort of energy blade, givne the suriving Corpus who can are running? She's please but she's also hurt she's got hit by some of the Corpus weapons and her own shields only stopped a portion of it. She seems to be settling down now as her one good eye looks about she'll look over to Kushiko. "I'm going to need to hit the med bay, damn those guns hit harder than I though. "Sounds like there's more to this than just some shady deal..." She looks over to Nova. "Not bad, at all." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     At last the door is closed. Someone must have gotten control of the ship's systems! ...And then Staren falls over as the ship takes off. As he goes down, wings and thrusters start to activate, but it's too late and over two hundred pounds of armor only make it worse. *KLANG* He picks himself up and looks at the guard who was hoping to shoot him. "Consider yourself lucky. It's over. Just get to an escape pod or something already."     He heads over to where Weiss and the other guard are. "Alright, so what's this about kids? Where on the ship are they and why are you delivering kids to people?" 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:''' ||Ship is fully decoupled from derelict dock.|| <<Supposedly derelict, anyway.>> ||It certainly isn't habitable now.|| <<Point, I guess.>>     Weiss brings the injured and probably terrified crewman down to the scorched and pockmarked area outside the now-closed docking bay, dumping him out for Staren to take care of (probably medically) and clapping her hands as if there were dust on them. Asche rumbles back to Zek in his usual like a disintegrating diesel engine. ||"The life support appears to be holding. There is no major hull damage, discounting the potential for it being caused by this type of piloting. Second vessel is retreating, not pursuing to engage. If you wish to perform a thorough inventory check, gaining several AU from Neptune would be advised, before a full spinal purge can begin. Please keep sensors active. I will move to intercept in the unlikely circumstance we are followed."||     <<"There we go, was that so hard~?">> Weiss chimes to the guy she'd shot through the leg. Rather than getting all edgy and dangerous about him talking about kids as cargo though, she only very briefly continues with one last question. <<"Would you know where they'd happen to be if they're still on board? I'd like to imagine they're out of my hair, since you seemed so confident the trade must have already wrapped up, but let's double check before we go ejecting cargo.">> 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' <"Right. I'm setting a course in now. There are some solar rails that haven't been used in a while around here that aren't in the nav logs; we'll move over there and then check it all over."> Zek is being thorough. <"Active lifesigns and mechanical signatures on the ship are diminishing, though. Looks like nobody is sticking around if they don't have to."> The injured and clearly freaked-out crewman shakes his head and raises his hands defensively, once he's back in a position where that's possible. "Th-they've already been offloaded! I don't know what they want, he paid for discretion and I just handle inventory. We just, you know... we go that way for biomatter, usually!" He points (slowly) towards the dropped tablet a ways away. "He, he bought the space, we provided it, we brought the cargo, he paid really, really well. That's all. That's all!" He hesitates. "Uh... starboard pod three, opposite isolation storage. It should be... should be empty now, though." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren applies nanobandages. They can't actually remove bullets, but they'll stop bleeding and keep the crewmen from getting worse. They'll have to either try their luck in an escape pod or wait for an elite to get them back to the warpgate network, though... "Don't try anything." He picks up the tablet, almost offers it to Zwei, then remembers she can just kind of read it anyway, and goes to confirm that the... 'biomatter' has indeed already been passed on.     Which is kind of concerning. He'll check that tablet too, and see who's selling kids to Nef Anyo. Some kind of kidnapping ring they need to take down? 

:'''{{#var:10|Crys Gattz (10)}} has posed:''' Crys Gattz trots over to the crewman pointy ears hotpants and all as she moves to squat by the crewman. "Your smart enough to co operate with us. I'd advise you are more careful about the jobs you take in the future." She notes to him she looks to Staren who has the guys wounds handled for now and she just remains here to keep an eye on the guy. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Seems like the surviving crewman is the place to be right now. Picking her rifle up once more, Nova walks over to join the others. She knows that Weiss has been the one interrogating him and so looks at her, "Has he given you everything that you require?" Her question denotes an offer to obtain more if necessary. 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' A slight nod towards Crys and Nova respectively, before listening in and... staring at what Staren's doing. Well. Staring in a way, given her largely faceless visage. She's caught up. Frankly she thinks they should kill the Crewman but the current topic at hand keeps her from voicing this. At least, you know, publically... This is really weird to her, but after a moment she simply shrugs, before heading off to go check out the pod mentioned. She can probably take some scans of it and the surrounding area if there's anything residual there, right? 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' The tablet is still unlocked from the previous activation. It is in fact an inventory list, detailing what's in each cargo container:     P1: Cryotic cells (30 ct.)     P2: EMPTY     P3: Myconian technocyte goods (see capt. log)         [ISOLATION PROTOCOL // HAZARDOUS MATERIALS]     S1: Ferrite, unprocessed (8t)     S2: EMPTY     S3: Nef Anyo noggles (12,000 ct.) Actually going down there involves going through the door towards the stern, travelling the now-deserted spine of the ship to get to the various cargo pods. Holographic signs numbering them in Corpus numerals along with scannable points indicating the contents are on each door. Port-side pod number three, the rearmost one on that side, is marked with hazard signs and is quite thoroughly locked. The one opposite that... isn't. Inside is a number of stacked crates with Corpus script on them. Behind those is a small cluster of half a dozen bunks and some scattered toys and personal effects, all child-sized. On a small table is a piece of paper with a crayon drawing of a stick figure family with a stick figure girl being dragged away by a large red man with a triangular hat on his head. Meanwhile, Zek enters the room from the bow-side door. He hops down to the floor and hustles over to the sitting crewman, crouching next to him. The crewman visibly recoils at the proximity of the Warframe. Zek's Warframe gestures at the crewman politely, and he asks, voice issuing from his helmet comm, <"Excuse me, but is it okay if I have this ship? I told someone I would ask."> The crewman stares dumbly at him and, very slowly, nods his head. Zek claps his hands together. <"Great! Thank you very much."> He stands up and bows deeply, much to the confusion of the Corpus on the floor. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Holy fuck." Staren stares at what is very clearly noq-empty quarters for a half-dozen kids. The corpus are /actually trafficking children/. Is this a regular thing or a one-time thing? Does it matter? <"We need to hold onto this pod for a bit. We should have Flamel check it for psychic residue to tell us what the hell is going on here!"> He accidentally raises his voice for the last part. Then takes a deep breath as he heads for the bridge. <"Does this place have security camera footage? Maybe they didn't wipe it yet..."> 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' It's hard to say what's more perplexing--checking out the pod itself and the strange Technocyte goods themselves, which makes her frown at the information her scanners are giving her... ... or the drawing. If her brow could visibly furrow it would now. She uses her own scanner, her sensors to take a holographic image of everything, before actually touching anything directly. The drawing, the actual setup for the kids to be here. Even to Weiss, and Nova--who knows, they might be correlating and helping sometime soon. Much as she might not /like/ Weiss--there's potentially something more important going on here, and them being able to work on this along with others means there's more general analysis devoted to it. <"Need to run a full analysis on the 'Myconia' supplies. At least they're following protocol for transporting it."> What goes unsaid is how that stuff is basically part of what she and Zek's Warframes /are/ but that doesn't need dwelling on. 
}}

Zek

2018-05-26T03:26:18Z

Binary:

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=Zek
|Color=#0099FF
|Char_id=6393
|FullName=Zek
|Gender=Male
|Species=Tenno (Human?)
|Theme=Warframe-1
|Chartype=FC
|Active=Active
|Function=Tenno Sleepwalker
|Faction=Concord
|Rank=1-Partner
|Ranktype=Member
|Quote="I dream of what I want to be."
|PAge=16
|AAge=Unknown
|Aging=Unknown
|Height=5'8"
|Hair=Brown
|Eyes=Blue
|Profile=Zek is a young man possessed of extraordinary power. Zek is a Tenno, a highly-trained, ruthlessly efficient warrior created by the ancient Orokin Empire to defeat a seemingly-insurmountable enemy. Using the powers of the vast and incomprehensible Void channeled through bio-organic proxy bodies known as "Warframes," Zek and the other Tenno prevailed -- and then murdered their masters, though none can remember why. Recently roused from cryogenic suspension, Zek has been awoken badly and drifts across the worlds in a state not unlike sleepwalking, finding himself following his whims and drawn to the illogical and the strange when something singular doesn't arrest his attention for anywhere from hours to days at a time. During moments of lucidity, Zek is a calm, collected young man who enjoys wandering and learning of new worlds alongside a number of creative pursuits that end in some manner of new creation. In some of his worst moments, he is instead a force of bloody violence, using his reassembled Warframe to carve a path of carnage across battles that may not have ever needed fighting in the first place. In either case, Zek has a singular overriding goal that drives him: to make his own way and live his own life in a world that seems intent on using him until the day he dies.
|Defining=Salvaged Warframe: 
Zek remotely operates a Warframe assembled from salvaged technology, channeling his unnatural powers with great effect. 
'''Proxies:''' Zek remotely operates a techno-organic battle armor through which he is able to use his abilities. He can also project a duplicate of himself near any of his proxies. Zek can rebuild a completely destroyed Warframe with moderate effort. 
'''Damage Reduction:''' Warframes possess multiple layered defenses including reinforced frames, hardened armor, and built-in shield generators, contributing to their incredible resilience. 
'''Mobility:''' Zek is able to traverse nearly any environment through a combination of extreme acrobatics, gravity-defying parkour and power-assisted air dashes and double jumps. 

Void Channel: 
Zek's otherworldly powers manifest in his ability to wreak havoc on synthetic opponents and turn them against their masters. 
'''Bane - Mechanical Beings:''' The power of the Void is anathema to machines. Zek knows exactly how to turn his powers and the tools at his disposal to the destruction of the synthetic. 
'''*Hacking: Proxies:''' Zek's skill and Void-born powers make him extremely adept at subverting electronic systems ranging from simple locks to sophisticated AI. Zek can possess hacked machines and use his powers through them, though doing so damages the machine. 
'''*Destruction:''' Zek is capable of creating singularities and tears in space to summarily annihilate whatever is put in front of him, with or without his Warframe.
|Significant=Tenno Scum: 
The Tenno were made into finely-honed instruments of Orokin will... and now they roam the Origin System, powerful and masterless. 
'''Stealth:''' Zek, like all Tenno, has been trained in the arts of stealth and infiltration. Sound-baffling modifications to his Warframe and equipment frequently aid his efforts. 
'''Weapon Mastery - Polearms:''' Zek's particular combat talent lies in the use of polearms of all types for offense and defense. If it has a haft, he can use it to safely charge into a hail of gunfire or clear a room. 
'''Weapon Mastery - Modern Infantry Firearms:''' Zek is highly trained in the use of physical and energy weapons found throughout his home system that are analogous in role and function to firearms used by modern infantry. 

Vauban Chassis: 
Zek's Warframe is primarily based off the Vauban design, a combat engineer and field controller model. 
'''Attack List - Ranged:''' Zek's Warframe produces a huge variety of munitions, including conventional, acid and EMP bombs, typical elemental types, and toxic, radioactive or viral weapons. His weapons are frequently modified to use equally exotic attack forms. 
'''Field Shaping: Mobility:''' Zek can and does deploy his engineered explosives as traps and mines, seeding areas with danger and using them to reshape battlefields. He can also drop anti-gravity pads for his convenience or to frustrate pursuers. 
'''*Incapacitation:''' Zek can create containment fields, immobilizing victims in mid-air stasis. The smaller the field, the stronger: a building floor-wide field lasts seconds, while single-target ones lasts minutes. Destroying the emitter releases those caught. 

Dreams of the Old War: 
Zek barely remembers the Old War, but he knows what he was made to do. 
'''Superhumanity:''' While Zek himself is possessed of remarkable physical ability, his Warframe is physically superhuman in all respects. 
'''Repair:''' Zek's technical skill allows him to quickly field-refit damaged high-tech equipment or rebuild vehicles and structures over a longer period. 
'''Hint:''' Zek's dreamlike state affords him the capacity to make logical and illogical leaps based on collected unconscious observations about his surroundings, bringing him to helpful conclusions that may otherwise seem absurd or obtuse.
|Minor=Space Ninja: 
Zek is capable of being nearly anywhere and fighting nearly anywhere. 
'''Entry Methods:''' Zek is eerily capable of finding his way into secure facilities, usually through maintenance or ventilation systems, though he relies on other means of getting around (such as stealth, hacking, or brute force) once past the front door. 
'''Environmental Protection:''' Zek's Warframe is built to withstand exposure to vacuum and Terran temperature extremes, though it stresses its shield systems. Both Zek and it are able to traverse dangerous subspace environs such as his world's Void in relative safety. 
'''Resistance - Biohazards:''' Casual exposure to mundane biohazards (such as common forms of disease or terrestrial poisons) will not damage Zek's Warframe, though potent or weaponized biohazards can damage its largely-organic components. 

Integrated Equipment: 
Zek's Warframe is fitted with some amount of useful equipment meant for things other than killing. 
'''Conveniences:''' Zek's Warframe possesses an augmented reality computer system usable for a wide variety of tasks and a full communications suite. 
'''Enhanced Senses:''' A short-range motion tracker and local auto-mapping function are also included in the Warframe's functionality. 
'''Healing - Self:''' When damaged, Zek's Warframe will automatically attempt to seal breaches, restore structural integrity, and recharge shields to allow for operational longevity. 

Vivid Dreamer: 
Zek has problems sleeping, and problems waking up in the morning. Or ever. 
'''Low Intake:''' Zek does not require sleep.
|Disadvantages='''MONO-FOCUS <Trouble>:''' Zek gets wrapped up in things to the point of severe distraction, mono-focusing on a task to the exclusion of all else. When his attention has been devoted to a task for a length of time or he's spotted an object of interest (typically a piece of technology or an interesting artifact), Zek becomes difficult to rouse from whatever he's doing. This mono-focus may be merely annoying or inconvenient when he's wrapped up in repairing a piece of technology when a firefight breaks out, but becomes worrying and dangerous when he's instead unable to disengage from the same firefight while he still has enemies yet to slaughter.

'''DREAMING WIDE AWAKE <Significant>:''' Zek remains in a state of partial slumber, functionally sleepwalking through life. Zek is quick to accept irrational and inexplicable events with the most tenuous 'logical' connections as real, leaving him vulnerable to being led on by the cunning and the mad. Zek is particularly susceptible to illusions and hallucinations, being unconsciously willing to accept what fools his senses due to his subdued connection to his conscious mind.

'''AUTOMATONOPHOBIA <Minor>:''' Zek distrusts and fears thinking machines with some severity. Given the opportunity, he will destroy any he comes across for the safety of himself and those around him. While he can be persuaded not to react with sudden and extreme violence in the moment, it takes more than words to convince him of one's good intentions. Notably, human minds converted to electronic forms cause Zek little distress, as their fundamental structure remains understandable, relatable, and eminently destructible.
}}

Zek

2018-05-22T17:52:42Z

Binary: Created page with "{{CharacterRedux |NameOnMUSH=Zek |Color=#0099FF |Char_id=6393 |FullName=Zek |Gender=Male |Species=Tenno (Human?) |Theme=Warframe-1 |Chartype=FC |Active=Active |Function=Tenno..."

5870/Retiarius Recumbentibus

2018-05-22T17:41:16Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/03/21 |Location=Neptune, Origin System |Synopsis=The Corpus put up a unique prize for winning in their gladiatorial Index: a Tenno. Certain pe..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/03/21
|Location=Neptune, Origin System
|Synopsis=The Corpus put up a unique prize for winning in their gladiatorial Index: a Tenno. Certain people take exception to this.
|Cast of Characters=6393, 964, 6, 571, 6386, 596
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' THE INDEX primarily takes place on one of several locales around Neptune in the so-called 'Origin System,' and is hosted by a capitalist televangelist by the name of Nef Anyo. According to the myriad broadcasts, he claims that having faith in 'the Void' and risking huge amounts of money on Index bouts is a sure-fire way to get rich. Riiiight. Tonight is a special match, though. Rather than the usual four-versus-four point-collecting arena-style bout, the Index has been setup for a very special occasion: an all-comers bout against a real live Tenno, dug up by Corpus recovery teams and brought here to make someone very, very rich. THE ARENA is an enormous dome on the side of a mined-out asteroid, filled with replicas of terrestrial plant-life and sleek, hardened Corpus structures in snowy white. Speaking of snow, it's just below freezing, with snow spread all across the tops of ten-to-thirty-foot cliffs, connected by catwalks, ramps, and ziplines. A frozen river going nowhere fills the bottom of the ravine that splits the arena in two, with caves cut into the lower cliffs by the shore. Competitors are delivered by elevator platform to the top of the cliffs, surrounded by waist-high walls outside one of the structures built at the top. Hovering cameras and viewscreens float high above. A geometric shape in black and white appears on the monitors, and a somewhat high, excited voice echoes in the space. The geometric shape on the monitors pulses with each word. "This is The Index! I'm Cephalon Sark, your unbiased host! We have a very special bout for you tonight: a winner-take-all endurance match against none other than one of the Betrayers themselves!" The roof of the nearby building slides open. A pair of elegant golden capsules ascends from the gap, attached to one another back to back, the glass encasement fogged. The one on the near side is adorned with boxy Corpus lettering and symbols, and fitted with locks that, one by one, begin to snap open with decidedly dramatic clacks. A tall, humanoid shape is visible within, shifting and rousing as Cephalon Sark excitedly speaks. "The rules are simple! The Broker to land the final blow on the Betrayer takes home the grand prize!" Cephalon Sark sounds positively thrilled. "But remember: only one team can win it all! But as long as investments keep coming in, new Investors and the chances to win come with it!" As he narrates, another platform ascends up the inside of the cliff... and another on the opposite side of the ravine. Two groups of four figures appear, a mix of ostrich-like robots and white-helmeted humanoids bearing high-tech rifles. "Investors, ready your brokers! The bell is about to ring!" 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' Certain rumors and information always find their ways to certain people--on the one hand, what she's hearing about this makes Kushiko want to actually trace a certain signal--knowing what she generally knows, but as with all things... confirmation. Besides which, Ergo Glast, who had passed along some information, could certainly provide as an Investor himself, as could the Concord itself, in case the rumors were true. A quote-unquote leashed Tenno. The very concept of which has provoked a certain degree of tranquil fury. And it was through a hefty donation of credits--because she wanted /no one/ owed, be it to Concord or otherwise, that she bought the space for a team. Those who might actually want to help Kushiko here certainly could, as she advised over the radio at large. But this was something that had her completely unwilling to broker any conflict on. You were either to help her, or weren't. She was there, as Mesa, her Warframe waiting as patiently, as a stone. She merely checked her gleaming guns--quietly prepared and awaiting the beginnings of this special Index fight. Ergo Glast, via a comm window, simply sighed. "You could have been more... diplomatic about that," he remarks. Kushiko's frame tips her head slightly. <"Maybe. Didn't want there to be any confusion."> The Perrin Sequence President shrugged his shoulders. "Well, the credits have changed hands. I've not been able to gain much more information, but there is room enough for a team other than Specters. Hopefully you'll have precisely that." Mesa canted her head, a slight 'un' being the last thing she utters, as she looked to other arrivals. Hopefully. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The Index? Some sort of combat stock exchange was how Tomoe understood this place. That was the most basic understanding what had caught her attention was there was a Tenno? That was to be faced and the price? That rankled her given her relationship with Kushiko. This would not do at all, this would not do at all. It hadn't taken much to get Tomoe to offer her blade to lend Kushiko a hand in this fight. So yes Kusiko has at least one person in her corner on this run, she looks to the Tenno for a moment. "Is there anything I should know about this bloodsport Wallstreet before we jump into this?" The Salamander seemed ready as she could be for the fight that lay ahead. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     "Listen, lady, you need an entry ticke-" CACHUNK. The high pinched hum of an EM-GASH coilgun augmented with the technology of a certain being called Zwei announces all the entry Maaka needs. "I got your ticket right here, mate." "Y-yeah, okay..."     Mesa sees Maaka arrive, kitted out for war as she enters the match, partly to help out the Tenno and her fellows. Kushiko may actually notice a few things different about her armor. Namely, she's gotten some symbols etched in for Steel Meridian, as well as the Tenno symbol on her chestplate and pauldrons respectively. A blatant 'come at me, bitches' without wasting words.     "I'm here. Let's get this done." 

:'''{{#var:6386|Note (6386)}} has posed:'''     After trying her damndest to get into the arena as a competitor, Note has been disheartened and on the verge of a temper trantrum at people who kept telling her NO REPUTATION, NO MONEY!     Well, then she got lucky with Kushiko here.     Note is here for the fight, for the sake of a good fight! Prize money is just a nice bonus if won at all.     She can barely contain her excitement. It's brimming across her face even as her breath fogs with every exhale as the group arrives in the arena via elevator.     Note has HASTILY donned a winter jacket and leggings over her ordinary clothes, with a hole cut for her tail - which seems to be fine in this weather!     Fine enough.     Standing up next to the Mesa though, and ENTIRELY unarmed, this... how old is she anyways? 13? 14? Maybe 15? It might seem? Well, this human(+tail?) youth doesn't seem so impressive, imposing, or even threatening.     At least until she sucks in her breath sharply and widens her stance a little. A rush of brilliant white-blue light leaks from her skin and expands outwards with a rush of mild winds, and any spiritual senses will easily pick up a SURGE from the youth as he focuses her Ki for battle!     "Thanks for having me! This'll be fun!"     She... she does know why everyone's here, right? 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:'''     Getting rich quick isn't really the issue here. Even with several years of adventures and misadvantures, upgrades and technical errors under their double belts, Zwei still doesn't suffer from the curse that is finances. In fact, they'd paid their way in with a fat stack of money (which is about as legitimate as Bitcoin in how they'd basically fabricated it out of the digital banking system), though only the one who can actually pass for human is present, clad head to toe in black combat armour that would be utterly generic were it not /so/ featureless that it wraps back around into being bizarre. There are no places to open it up, remove pieces, perform maintenace, or even get in and out of it, like a form-fitting exoskeleton only barely lit up by tiny points of gold light, including three on the blank face. ||Asche would be far better suited to a combat challenge.|| <<True, but only if there were the luxury of blowing everything sky high. There's enough energy to keep both shells running at . . .>> ||"0.41 miliseconds at nominal combat effectiveness. 15 minutes at minimum threat threshold."|| <<"Yeah, after that it's back to the power cells. Lucky that martial artist guy dug them up. Let's try to conserve it anyways.">>     Into the arena, the surface of Weiss' armour immediately becomes an immaculate patchwork of whites and greys, smoothly broken up by shifting patterns as she moves, like the chromatapores of an excessively sophisticated cephelopod. She moves only as far as necessary to begin scoping out the place, sending out extreme wide sensor signals to pick out the competitors all forced into the same convenient valley, and then lasering in on each for detailed accounts of their equipment, fitness, team composition, energy signature, overall integrity, and basically all the other metadata she needs to sort competitors by their probable role, target softness, team cohesion, endurance, and who has the juciest gear. She basically spreadsheets all of it before committing to doing anything, drawing up a extensive virtual map of the arena and marking blips internally. <<"Let's Castle if anything goes wrong.">> ||"Good call. I will have one of the power cells secured."|| 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' The two other teams are shielded and well-equipped. One of them is a trio of backpack-power-cell-equipped humans in full body armor, with long, narrow rifles plugged into them. The fourth member is some kind of hovering robot like a clam on its side, all in green, with vertical apertures registering to Weiss' sensors as some kind of energy weapons. The other team consists of a four-legged, low-to-the-ground robot, a pair of chicken walkers, and a helmeted man with a particularly dense force field. It looks like /everything/ has some kind of energy weapon. The defaced pod opens. The lid swings upwards on a top-mounted hinge, a cloud of fog rolling out. The tall figure inside takes a step forward, shrouded by the mist, and then -- -- collapses. It falls to its knees, struggling for a moment to get back up. It rises slowly, with small, deliberate motions. One hand gets raised, fingers flexed, wrist rolled. Testing. Feeling. It moves like it was wearing an ill-fitting skin, and checking the limits of the same as it rises back to its full height, gradually gaining in dexterity as it does. It's standing, now. It's humanoid, yes; male, maybe; faceless, definitely. The figure is six-and-a-half feet if it's an inch. A faceless helmet with a black, opaque dome tops its head and fills where its face should be, with a fringe around the jaw that gives it a shape resembling the front of an oncoming train. Dull grey pauldrons edged in faded gold cover shoulders, and overlapping flaps of grey and gunmetal hand over its chest, with darker lines running in outward-sweeping curves to four horizontal cylinders affixed to either side of its torso. The red stripe up the middle is scratched, pitted and faded, showing clear signs of damage and hasty repair. The limbs don't match. The arms are patchworks of mismatched armor plates hastily painted in a similar but too-fresh color pallette and welded together. The legs are similar, with more organic-looking plates from a bulkier frame forced into the proper shape and fitted to the rest of it. There are lines where the patchwork assembly is clearly visible, and the similarities to Corpus mechanical units taking the field is obvious. "And here it is! The Betrayer, in its full glory!" the Cephalon shouts. The two other teams swing their guns up to track the figure on the roof. "Can it withstand the capitalist fury of The Index?! /Let's find out/!" DI-DING! The bell rings! The two other teams move immediately. The far team, with the backpacks, start to hastily break towards cover to start working across catwalks towards the nearer side of the ravine. On that side, both of the chicken-walkers in the nearby team start spraying suppressive pulse laser fire across Kushiko's team's position, while the man with them ducks into cover. The quadruped whips its black head around, sensors sweeping the vicinity, and leaps towards the rooftop figure. The 'Betrayer' rushes it. He ducks low, one hand grazing a capsule affixed to his torso and coming away with a small object. He flicks it underneath it, and a shimmer of hazy air billows upwards -- and gravity reverses as the quadruped passes over it, ending up flung skyward, flailing and firing downwards. Shots smack into the figure, the first energy bolt burning armor and the next sending a flicker of blue shielding rippling over his body as he flings himself... into the weird air. And into the sky. And then down into the gorge, plummeting towards the iced-over river... 

:'''{{#var:6386|Note (6386)}} has posed:'''     From far across the battlefield, Note studies the other teams. She curls her lips in a bit of distaste at seeing all of the HIGH TECH WEAPONRY when what she really wants is an honest to goodness BRAWL... but she'll take what she can get.     Though the tech is pretty weird and cool, so it DOES have her looking at it with wide-eyed, childish curiosity here and there!     But then... the pod.     Her attention fixes QUICKLY on that pod... and the strange, mis-shappen 'Betrayer' that emerges from it. Note looks quickly between Kushiko's Mesa and the so-called 'Betrayer', blinking up a storm.     They both have a similar energy to them, after all. And they're VERY different from the things fielded by the other teams.     But the moment the bell rings...     "KAI-O-KEN... TIMES TWO!!" Note's filmy white aura basically EXPLODES with enough force to crack the ground under her, shifting to a frantic crimson that blazes out of control. Her energy signature just skyrockets!     Which allows her to DIVE straight at the chicken-walkers even as they open fire, weaving through half of the lasers that come near her, smacking away a lot more with her palms (HOW does that even work?!) but taking a fair few across her arms and a few grazes along her cheeks. One pulse hits her shoulder and another grazes her leg, but for the most part...     Once she's down low with the walkers she spins about, aims her body at one and flings a hand out, palm open!     "HYAAAAAAAH!!!" A torrent of Ki pours out from her hands, roughly bullet shaped, straight for the Walker's legs!     She is of course aiming to disable these things. Not blow them to smithereens. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:''' <<Three other teams. One annoyingly familiar, so we'll leave them for last.>> ||The other two seem a reasonable start, but eliminating them first to the exclusion of all else will only allow the external actor to collectively pursue what they have no doubt come for with impunity. Picking off weaker threats is only common strategy when they are unified against you.|| <<Right, right, that's the expert opinion. I'll see what I can do I guess. Either way, I'll have to /start/ with them just to take advantage of the hardware they're carrying. A weapon commandeered is a weapon I didn't pay for after all, and anything left in the power pack is a bonus!>> ||Agreed.||     Still deep in digital stealth camo, Weiss begins skipping across the arena as swiftly and silently as she can, not resorting to flight or parkour so much as staying low to the ground and white as a ghost, making almost no sound as each foot strikes the ground with vibration absorbent soles and perfectly regulated distribution of balance. She cuts around the far end of the arena from the Multiversal squad, taking a bit of a detour to circle behind the largely human team, where Weiss shifts to match the metal of the catwalks that she vaults up to, making no use of her microthrusters so as not to tip them off.     When she gets into that position however, instead of enacting bloody violence, she picks one and smacks the rifle out of his hands, catching it as it wings along the reach of its power cord, and then ripping the pack from his back as well. She doesn't even do the good grace of legitimately hurting him, but plunges off the catwalk as soon as she can get her hands on some weaponry, even if she has to struggle with him for a moment to do it, though she won't sit still in front of three other guns if it comes to that.     Provided rifle acquisition, she drops into a dark recess of the ravine and dials down all her running systems, becoming extremely faint on sensors directed after her. She spends a couple of moments ruthlessly draining the power cell down to the last drop, charging up her own capacitors with it so that she doesn't have to lug the heavy thing around. She also spends some time scanning the internal workings and probable software of the weapon to familiarize herself with it: its effective range, expected deviation, firepower, ammunition count, etc. and then hooks it up to what amounts to a 'HUD' for someone whose eyeballs are decorative. She's also multitasking. While commandeering and readying herself to use the weapon, Weiss is attempting to infiltrate the equipment of the native competitors, especially the robots. Again, she doesn't do anything overt or destructive. Rather, she jacks positioning software to feed them the data she's keeping of the Elite pack's location, and cranking a few variables in the drones to prioritize them over the Tenno target the minute they both enter the same engagement. The locals stand more of a chance of slowing or stopping the Multiversals if they conveniently go after them at the same time. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Maaka growls as she sees the teams. A pack of them have some moa and a guy with a shield. She sees the prize, and her eyes go wide. A Warframe? Is it connected to the host still? It'd have to be, given the objective is to kill it.     They don't have time for this, and Maaka's thrusters lift her into the sky as she takes off with her rifle in hand. "Kaio-what?!" She's cut off by Note blasting off, before she unleashes a ki blast at the walkers. Long as it's focused on the other teams.     Maaka uses her magnetics to run along the walls, propelling herself toward some of the power-cell carrying soldiers while her coilgun lets off a burst of fire, aiming to rip through their armor. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe takes a deep breath today she's not so focused on tanking her Naginata is summoned. With Mooncutter ready Tomoe seem intent to get into the match. She takes in the arena quickly and also takes note of whom they may be fighting. The guys with the backpacks are looking for cover? She will flare our her wings, which are bright red and pretty showy and lift off even as Note shows she's not just for show, she's some kind of crazy martial artist? Okay good to know she'll be going after one of the backpack guys making to rive bomb them and take a few good slices at them. 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' It is something of an issue sometimes, getting here. One which she actually kind of... shakes her head at, when it comes to Alexis. Can't blame her for wanting to keep things straightforwardly simple at that. A slight nod from her, given those words, as she explains the few--basic rules--of the Index to Tomoe as she understands them. In this case, at least--they need to take down the 'Betrayer', or at least keep the other teams from doing so. A brief look-see of Note--completely new, is this person, before nodding slowly. The Tenno that is Kushiko in her Mesa Warframe doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact Note's young--the truth is, if Note would see her, she'd see someone about as young. The sealed, faceless Warframe shifts slightly, before looking to the Arena's entry point. <"Work on eliminating anyone who isn't our team, then let's see what we can do about the 'Betrayer'. Which will be a Warframe."> Has to be. That's how the Corpus saw them all. Wait, like her? Once she and the others are into the arena proper, it's another matter to actually engage, evaluate, and get a good idea of what's going on both with the teams they know and any that might try to be interfering. Truth be told, the very first thing she does is immediately activate a power: Shatter Shield, causing her body to look like it's crystalized by a thin layer of frost, or glass, misting out from her elbows. But the pod itself is what makes her outright pause--she recognizes parts of it. It's not right--like pieces were stitched together. It's enough of a distraction to her that the attacks, the pressure the two Corpus teams seek to put on her team, and it's the immediate reaction that she brings up her own 'suppression' gun: the Supra Vandal, even as she knows, she /recognizes/, instinctively, the traits of the 'frame itself, but... it's not completely right. No, nothing about this is even remotely right. <"Don't hold back!"> she calls out to Note. Even in that fleeting instant, she saw something in the way Note looked to fight. <"There's no room for that here."> Or anywhere here. Capitalist fury besides. But time to focus--even if something feels... /off/, like something was there that didn't belong. Or maybe she was imagining it, seeing as she needs to focus on fighting the others. And fight she will, what with her shield reflecting firepower back at the Team Robocops, simply moving, heedless with her Warframe's defenses on the level they are now, covering Note with the high powered laser machine gun. It's, how shall we say, /audibly/ impressive to just about anyone here who has a fancy for guns. 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' Note starts things off with a bang. She charges in, something that makes the human on the team let out a startled shout even while the two chicken-legged Moas keep firing into her approach path. The flies past them, and one turns with her, the other still focusing fire down-range. The turning one ceases shooting when its line of fire passes over its friendly -- and then gets promptly knocked on its robotic ass when she shoots the legs out from under it. The pulse of ki triggers a flash of blue shields and a screech of tortured metal, the Moa's leg buckling underneath. It pitches over. The other one comes under return fire from Kushiko's much heavier weapon. It suddenly ducks low, shots scoring off its own shields, folding up behind waist-high cover. It rotates oddly, flipping and rising slightly, poking its gimballed gun-turret out and returning heavy fire from the covered position. That means it isn't paying attention to Note... but the shielded guy back there is, taking the opportunity to jab her with a high-powered electrical prod while she's in close and dealing with the Moa. ZAP! The other team has different troubles. One of them is abruptly divested of gun and pack, to which he calls a startled and offended, "Hey!" as Weiss just straight-up takes his gun, too surprised to put up much of a fight. He grabs something off a mag-point on his suit and fires downward, shotgun-like sprays of radiation pulses following her down from the catwalk from whatever crazy sidearm he comes with. His buddy staggers under Maaka's attack from the side of the arena, shots making his shields flash and then cutting into his armored jumpsuit. He ducks behind a narrow metal plate under the catwalk's railing, blindly but surprisingly accurately flinging a pulse grenade into her path, the weapon adhering to the wall and exploding in multiple waves of blue energy to box her in. The third backpack-carrier ends up right in Tomoe's path, hastily blocking sword-strokes with his surprisingly reinforced rifle, jumping back with a practiced hop and levelling it at her. She finds out what it is just as Weiss does a scan to discover the same: an ice beam. The freeze ray spreads deadly cold and clumps of fast-formed ice, threatening to encase her. The big hovering drone rises up, weapon apertures swiveling -- and then the one shooting at her yells, "After the target!" It beeps once, then zips off the catwalk, diving down towards the frozen river... ... and the Warframe at the bottom. Wide-angled blasts of energy pepper the surface of the river, and the patchwork 'Betrayer' at the bottom scrambles across the surface, gliding like he was skating. His shields flicker again, and he banks into a crevice -- and runs right past Weiss, the opaque faceplate momentarily turned to regard the accidental discovery. Up close, it's easy to tell what wasn't immediately clear before: they left him unarmed, too. The Warframe runs straight up the cliff face not ten feet from her. He backflips off of it, diving down on top of the heavy robotic unit. Weiss' subtle infiltration meets with a second abrupt presence, something brute-forcing its way onto the tactical network she's quietly subverting. The hovering robot dips dangerously, recovering... until the Warframe's mismatched hand flares with sensors scrambled garbage telemetry errors reported no data no data no data weird light, cutting it off the tac-net with a burst of nonsense data and, apparently, killing it instantly. The 'Betrayer' rides it to a tight bend in the river, and then drags it into cover. The sound of metal ripping and dead servos groaning is clearly audible. 

:'''{{#var:6386|Note (6386)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah!" Down goes the Moa! And now that she's close enough to examine them, Note feels some relief... it's just some bot, so nothing to worry about!     In her distracted moment of triumph though-- BZZZZZZZZT!     The moment that prod makes contact, all of her muscles fire at once, and in a panic she drops out of the Kaioken technique before it RIPS her body apart. The red glow vanishes... as instead, her flesh sizzles and smokes and OH is she screaming!     But with one bit of focus she KICKS the ground, breaking away, and arcs back into the snow with a big crash that kicks up a PLUME of it. She flips about unevenly and slams back to her feet in a hurry, panting wildly....     "You're gonna PAY for that one. The gloves are coming OFF!" Unwilling to approach with a SHOCK BATON in the fray, and leery of that heavy shield...     "KAIOKEN... TIMES THREE!" The snow EXPLODES away from Note in a wave of wind blasted outwards by her surging crimson aura.     And once more she aims her palm... but this time, instead of a single bullet of Ki that flies out?     A DOZEN shots of swirling, arcing energy fly out ALMOST simultaneously, all curving in at different angles for the man with his shield! 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Maaka curses as she narrowly avoids running directly into one of the explosives dropped ahead of her, bouncing off the wall. Her shields crackle and blurr, as she dives behind cover. Her gear is pretty visibly taking a pounding, as she feels a few shots hit her arm and shoulder. She primes a grenade and draws her sidearm, sliding out from her hiding spot.     The gun kicks in her hand as she fires upon her opponent, before tossing the frag grenade at him. 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' Amidst the clash of teams, there's something to be said for /feeling/ that very same thing one is made of herself--even if this being wields it in a far greater offensive capacity than she herself currently does. So many questions rise amidst the ones being answered. Which unfortunately for her, she needs to briefly use a bit of cover to keep that second Moa off it's game while Note's back there. <"Enough of this."> she curtly remarks. She stows the Supra Vandal, and with a faint 'click' and odd little pulsation, a storm of Void sparks and motes of light coalesce around her--not quite the same way that that 'Betrayer' is doing down there, but it definitely feels like cold death roiling off of her as she engages her Peacemaker ability. An ability that makes the tonfa-looking things on her forearms slide forward, and flip up into her hands. Hands that use them like a pair of long guns. And then she's suddenly firing in rapid succession, with absolutely /disgusting/ accuracy, her body shifting and moving so fast it's leaving faint, blurry afterimages with each dizzying series of rounds from the Regulator sidearms that've become part of her body. She rolls forward, to the side, every shot seeming to make her shields glint and burn brightly from the return fire, but she's basically going to lay down covering fire with singular precision to all within her sight. And maybe even those that are trying to use cover--you have to be blocking yourself off completely from her at this point to avoid her current storm of fire, her Waltz of bullets and death to support the rest of her team. They need to get after the target, just as the Corpus said. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:'''     This would be the point where Weiss would be happy it's her helmet's sensors interpreting Voidlight instead of her own, but for all intents and purposes, they're basically one and the same. Only the visual portion seems to pick up anything. The purple light is garbage data on every other front, telling her nothing about it other than how it looks.     <<"Guy you are not making this easy.">> she mumbles.     The 'Betrayer' skips right past her, which is all very well, because she's not about to jump in after him like a rabbit chase. She has a weapon less overtly lethal than she'd hoped, but the free pick of a complete mess of a firefight up above, and if the main target is completely unarmed, she can always Castle later to handle it at leisure, as much as that word could be used here. ||Known targets. Alexis Maaka. Current configuration includes STALKER suit and EM-gash rifle.|| <<Oh good. That means I already know exactly what her kit does. Heck, I built the first thing.>> ||Second known target. Tomoe. Nom de Guerre: Iron Lily.|| <<Game avatar. That saves me a lot of trouble and some misplaced shots.>> ||Other targets include a similar energy signature to the Betrayer, and a Saiyan.|| <<Oh for- it's been ONE DAY! One day!>>     Weiss makes a snap judgement, in as far as any judgement made by computing can be considered hasty. When the Warframe leaps up onto its new ride, Weiss gets out the only weapon she actually had on her: an Earth-standard handgun with hollow points, one round missing, and a second full magazine, taken off a frozen corpse in the Soft Expanse. She actually hurls them both high into the air from her concealed position, straight up and into grabbing range of the fox in this hunt, for whatever good he might do with it in slowing the others down.     A handgun flying up out of nowhere is also a pretty good distraction, and something weird enough to gain both immediate notice, and non-immediate comprehension. During the pistol's hangtime, Weiss wheels, sights, and fires the freeze laser at the frag grenade in mid-air, before quickly whipping it straight down at Maaka by tracking its arc in reverse, and slashing it across her to freeze her throwing arm and the coil gun in her other hand. ||Weapon insufficient to penetrate STALKER suit. Earth-standard ordnance vulnerable to excessive cold. Estimated coil thaw time: 28 minutes.||     As long as she can hold the beam before the weapon needs to rest, she then sweeps it over Tomoe, aiming for her feet to anchor her fighter to the ground, and piling it on from there to try and stack up SAO's frost ailment. ||Specialized melee fighter. Ranged attacks require lengthy startup, limited resources, and are restricted to line of sight. Flight is a key asset. Immobilize. Game system will likely register as negative status.|| 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:'''     While the gun has to cycle, Weiss makes a break to catch the frozen grenade, still in full camo, though this makes her look mostly like a mild, grainy digital blur filter on the snow background. The moment she snatches it, possibly mid-jump, she turns the rifle on Note off in the distance and fires the beam dead center mass. Just as the martial artist would have time to turn around and look back to where it'd come from however, Weiss is gone, disappeared in a blip of red tint on the surrounding area. On the total opposite side of the valley, a precise flex of her grip cracks the ice off the frag, and she hurls it at the Saiyan's rear arc faster than it is really aerodynamically designed to, since the remaining fuse time is a few fractions of a second. ||Saiyan adversary likely to have inexplicable preemptive senses. Fights in mono-focus. Displays obvious situational combat inexperience. Attack from multiple angles. Distract and damage. Ki-sense is useless against artificial shells, so use to advantage.|| 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is trying to get the Corpus fighters to just stay down really she's not as bloody-minded as one might expect in a fight like this. She finds herself facing someone whos better-skilled than she thought given his rifle holds from the spear strikes she sees him hopping back with a fair bit of skill. The ice beam fires and Tomoe was expecting an energy blast or a solid shot. Not a freeze ray and she's now ending up and it does start to encase her she can feel the ice moving the cold, and hears the crackling of the ice she's slowly encased tills he's just about sealed up by the ice shot. She's thankfully not frozen solid and just trapped. Between her and Zwei's sudden attack, she had little experience with the technological ghost to be sure. She was, however, learning to ignore it over what she knew? Was a bad idea. She tries to not panic and an idea strikes her she starts to chant subvocally and golden runes circle her frozen form, she's clearly doing something here. THere is then a burst of flame which causes the ice to weaken and start o melt to the point Tomoe burests free she's looking a bit sizzled and she notes. "...I got to admit you got me there.." She's also looking a little burned herself. It seems she cast a fire spell on her self to get out of the ice. She then chants again more runes dance about her followed by a barrage of light rays not at the Corpus for the moment but at, Weiss. There is that windup time to be sure but Tomoe's still going to take her move at it. If Zwei is paying attention to scanner data from Tomoe? There's something odd, about the Avatar that doesn't line up with prevoious run ins with anyone who was from the Death Game or related wander mode users. There's way more mass there now, way more mass. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Maaka's eyes widen as she sees a familiar laser blast, but suddenly her arms are frozen. THey lock into place, frost stopping her limbs in place as she frantically tries to free them by flexing her limbs. "MOTHERFU-COME ON!" She growls harshly, trying to smash her limbs against the walls and other surfaces to crack through the ice. It doesn't work, by the looks of it. It's gonna be a bit before she can thaw her way out of this.     Right now, flexing would be VERY helpful if this wasn't a MUSH dictated by mostly realistic physics. 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' The handgun goes up -- and gets snatched out of the air on the way past. The 'Betrayer' doesn't say anything when it happens (there's no mouth, how would it), but there's a burst of signal noise, like someone was trying to broadcast unsuccessfully through some kind of jamming. Huh. Maaka's grenade goes sailing through the sky... and gets intercepted by shots from below. Not one to waste an opportunity, the backpacker on the catwalk taking cover pivots, taking a knee and levelling his ice beam at Tomoe, too. Two of them fire on her now, doing their level best to fully encase her and take her out of the fight for a little while -- something that might be even harder to handle with the shots from Weiss below her! The non-backpacked member of that team... ...points his gun towards the other Corpus team. He advances down the catwalk, past the meleer, snapping off shots from his rad-shotpistol into the brawl between Note and the shielded guy. It pelts the shield, forcing him into cover, making the Moa change targets to return fire instead of firing on Kushiko. Note's ki blasts hammer into him. The shield is a personal force field of some intensity, but the combined onslaught is too much. It collapses, and he jerks like a shaken doll, knocked off his feet and sent tumbling away into a snow bank where he lies still after the flurry of blasts. The damaged Moa rotates on the ground, firing snapshots upwards at the Saiyan, who has no less than three angles of attack to deal with -- -- then, suddenly, two. Kushiko's Peacemaker quiets both Moas with rapid, precise shots, coring the robots and turning them to sparking debris. The guys on the catwalk begin to back off, using Tomoe as ice-coated cover from the incoming fire, trying to get to a point of better concealment against the fusillade. Their tactical network is abuzz with back and forth, but, remarkably, they're keeping their cool. The quadrupedal unit stalks up towards Kushiko while she's firing. Gun turrets swivel out from behind its forward shoulders, firing bursts of light energy-fire. Lightning arcs off of it as it circles, lashing out to stun her so it can deliver a finishing blow. Then, suddenly, the other Warframe reappears. It springs upwards out of the ravine, clearing the uppermost cliffs like it was shot out of a cannon. In its hands is the guts of the flying drone, an awkward-looking L-shaped assembly of metal covered in packed coils and with some kind of power core spliced into a cut in the side. The front has... lenses. Lots and lots of lenses. The 'Betrayer' lines up at the top of the cliff for a split second and fires. The optical multi-cannon screams, a dense, wide pillar of energy flashing out and summarily annihilating the waist-high cover between the cliff's edge and the quadruped -- or what's left of it, now -- and keeps going, bursting into a brilliant explosion as it hits a wall near Kushiko and blossoms outward. He grabs the edge of the cliff, flipping himself up on top of it. There's a loud whine as it charges, and he swings the cannon back up in line with the Saiyan instead. She doesn't need to be able to sense killing intent to know that this patchwork opponent is full of just that. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     "C'mon..." Maaka thwacks her arms against a hard surface until a CRACK indicates she's broken through the frosty layers on her arms. She promptly bends her arms and moves them around, breaking off pieces of ice as she frees herself. "So glad I'm enviro-sealed in this thing." She growls, before she takes off to chase after the Warframe that isn't Mesa, all the while taking aim at the backpacker on the catwalk.     Using her grapple and boosters to propel herself up to the catwalk, Maaka makes pursuit, firing onto the backpacker again with her 10mm, aiming at the backpack to damage it. Knowing from experience, shooting out those tanks tend to be beneficial...if risky. 

:'''{{#var:6386|Note (6386)}} has posed:'''     Another knockout! Note cracks an oddly cheerful and victorious smile, flashing a V-sign with her right hand at the triumph!     But lowers it just as she realizes there's SOMEONE TOO CLOSE-- "Hyagkh--" The radiation pistol burns right through her jacket, leaving parts of it smoldering awfully. Seems to have singed flesh too by the way she waves the arm around and gathers her spirit for a counterattack--     Then a RUSH of noise screams at her from one side, and her head turns swiftly to check on that and-- "Ooooowahhhghk---"     It's all she can DO to fling her arms up and shield her face. Reinforced with a thin film of Ki, the blast does strike dead on. She's blown backwards across the snow and drags her feet hard to kill the momentum...     Once again the Kaioken aura dies down, and this time she doesn't renew it. Looking a little winded from using it so hard twice in a row only to get PELTED in fact, she's staying low to the ground, looking EVERY which way now instead of relying on her Ki senses.     Apparently that's ONE lesson learned. She can't rely on her Ki sense as much around here!     Possibly two: Enemies are EVERYwhere.     But just as she's getting her footing back.... KRAKOOOM!!     And Note goes flailing through the air, tumbling around and around, along with splashes of blood and tattered chunks torn from her jacket. It's looking pretty sad at this point, all rags and fluffy lining. However...     The tailed martial artist RECOVERS, simply SWERVING through the air under her own power and rising straight up. She rips the rest of it off in a hurry...     She's in quite a bad way, all things considered. One arm scorched and singed. Her outfit's full of holes and splashed with blood. It's a wonder she hasn't lost an eye or something through all that! And, most tellingly, she's breathing pretty hard and looking quite scared for once.     WHAT THE HELL kind of fight did she sign up for?! Maybe she should've checked what KIND of match was being held before throwing herself at it.     In just a few short moments, she mulls over what mistakes she's been making while looking down at the battlefield and realizes...     She just -really- wants a duel, but nobody else is of that mindset.     So now, Note just -really- wants this to be over with. And the best way to do it...     Her gaze locks on the 'Betrayer', and DETERMINATION ignites in her eyes.     In the very next moment, you can't -see- her eyes. Or the rest of her. She just VANISHES in a blur of motion and---     "HYIAT!!" The next she's on the ground, UNDERNEATH the cannon, and driving an elbow up towards the 'Betrayer's' belly. A blow that will lead into a swift combo of aggressive flip kicks, chops, and knife hand thrusts, which might well end with her diving BETWEEN the warframe's legs and doing her best to send him flying with a KICK to the rump off into the snowbanks! 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' The appearence of another 'team', in this case another combatant who had been keeping her--themself? Off the proverbial radar does confirm the sense of unease the Tenno had prior. Yet it's not something she can rapidly deal with thanks to a CERTAIN TYPE of quadrupedal robot. Internally, she's pissed as hell, because /that/ damnable blast of energy was enough to sap and stun her and make her stagger forward, dropping to one knee. It's moments away from being knocked out and being forced to try and surge her systems but she's in luck thanks to the 'Betrayer' as it were. She recognized at least a portion of those systems being not unlike Vauban, but the rest... the rest baffles her, as does the multi-core Opticor. In this instance, she has to decide, rather quickly, on what do actually do--best case? Warn Note, hope that the 'Betrayer' recognizes her Mesa as a fellow Warframe to some degree, but the priority is 'eliminate everyone else but the Betrayer' while keeping clear of it. Even then, she's damaged from the explosive impact, though she's far better off from say, getting finished off in her momentarily stunned state as she was. The wreckage of the quadruped is given a 'look' before she quickly salvages an energy cell for her own use. So she goes to this plan, pivoting and then sending herself up on a Void-assisted leap upwards, her body spiralling as she does so. <"Get out of there, Note!"> comes the transmitted voice sortof *around* Note instead, to serve as a directed warning via disembodied voice. Shooting Gallery -- as it's known, something that improves general gunplay, but has a benefit regardless--like when it 'jumps' to others, it has a great ability to actually jam firing systems of anyone nearby--selectively, of course. No friendly fire issues here. The real question, where does it need to go? Focusing sensors outward and having seen more than a few of those glints, she needs to find--ah. There!! Now, that little power, it ends up is on Note herself--a revolving little satellite of energy trailing a faint lilac light. Both Weiss and this Betrayer could both end up having their weaponry and systems experiencing a jam if they linger too close, though her priority is getting Weiss effected more. For the time being, she switches up her tack--where she's at, she leaps to another part of the arena, given where Tomoe is and being used as an adhoc cover, and starts laying down /impressive/ amounts of firepower to drive them away from Tomoe so as they can actually do something about their predicament without as much pressure. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' This time Tomoe is ready for ice beams this time and she's going to keep moving now and avoiding getting hit. Oh God they have more ice beams three of the damn thing she can attempt to dodge them but they are going to keep laying down the fire and as the tank knows? No one can dodge forever, there's some level of respect though 0for how these guys are keeping their heads in a fight like this. She can not dodge all the ice beams forever and again she's getting ice covered once more, she's slowing down and they are using her as cover? She's going to attempt to break free again, and she has other options than, flight to manoeuvre. She does not like being cover and with the help from Kushiko she's just going to break free with raw strength now sending a shower of ice shards as she's finally free and on the move. No wings no she's going leap on the nearest of the guys using her as cover and attempt to grab his gun and wrench it away from them. Hopefully catching the Corpus Crewman unawares of her super human strength. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:''' <<Confirmed direct hits on all counts! It's working out!>> ||Number of combatants rapidly dwindling. The primary participant of the Index appears to have no interest in defending his or itself against non-aggressors.|| <<Yeah but it looks like these jackasses are pretty peachy keen on messing him up, given the Saiyan. You think they really need the money that bad? I mean, I know Maaka is a mercenary and all.>> ||Unknown, and for now, irrelevant. The package is top priority. None of them have paid much attention to the real prize. Interrupt, misdirect, secure and then exfiltrate. The enemy is weakened or preoccupied, and their primary opposition is now heavily armed.|| <<Within simulated tolerance. Cool.>>     The freeze beam in Weiss' hands abruptly becomes so much static-fuzzed garbage when she drops out of cover again to keep up the pressure. She doesn't need line of sight to keep track of the Elites nor the Corpus, but she needs it to shoot. With Mesa's interference being broadly painted over entire areas of the field though, sticking to the so-far underwhelming weapon isn't worth the trouble. She doesn't have a whole team of these coordinating fire, with backup weapons to deal the finishing blow, as was the strategy for the team she'd stolen it from.     Weiss quickly chucks the gun and drops into the ravine, electing to pulse anti-grav for a costly second just to avoid cracking the ice so that she can take a low approach out of the way of any more interference, as the match rapidly escalates into scanner tag. Instead, while the others are busy, Weiss reaches the opposite cliff and rockets up from over the lip, precisely calculated to reach peak verticality where the Betrayer is, and thus by extension, Note.     She isn't ostensibly armed, but that doesn't really matter when her body rotates over itself with the pulse of microthruster dots, bringing a diamond hard, armour plated, rocket propelled heel down in an axe kick on Note's collarbone, suddenly jumping in on the Betrayer's side for a 2v1. The camo is sort of useless at that point, so she lets it drop and fizzle off, revealing the seemingly sculpted black exosuit.     <<"Wow you're really rushing into trying to get the last hit, huh? You that scared of me or something~ Come on, didn't mean to spook you /that/ bad!">> Though it's unlikely the prime target of this fox hunt would turn on her at this point, she still beams an encrypted communique to him anyways. 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' Shooting the backpack-canister has amazing results. Amazing, terrible results. The first of the shots hit depleted shields and punch through. Another hits a hose, tearing it free, spraying pressurized white fog everywhere. The next ruptures the tank properly, causing a catastrophic 'WHUMP' -- and leaving an ice sculpture where that particular backpack-bearing Corpus agent was. The one with the radiation gun, huddled up behind the same cover, is half engulfed by the same blast, his gun-hand and lower half of his body frozen in the mass. He's punching ineffectively at it, trying to get free. It'll take a while. Tomoe breaks free again while he's working at that. The remaining pack-wearing Corpus tries to cover him, leaning out of his not-frozen cover to see Tomoe practically on top of him, acting in a role akin to the Juggernaut and intent on closing. She grabs hold of his freeze ray -- and he refuses to let go at first, dangling from it as she yanks it from him like she was taking a toy from a child. With practiced speed, he disengages the lock on the canister on his back, letting it swing off of him heavily and inconveniently crack her in the lower legs as it swings off. He backpedals, grabbing a sphere off his belt and tossing it into the air where it develops little hover-rotors and zips around his head. A coherent beam of blue shines down over him, his shield becoming visible as it intensifies. His other hand goes down to his waist, grabbing a large, bulky pistol with a heavy, multi-chambered barrel. It spins up -- and then vomits a rapid-fire continual spray of energy bolts into Tomoe's face. Note locks eyes on the 'Betrayer.' She sees a blank visor where a face should be, and can read nothing of his intent beyond the barrel of his weapon. She flash-steps close to him, faster than any human eye can track -- -- and he twitches his aim very slightly, her step carrying her to look directly down the barrel as he touches the contact to discharge the cannon. It's point blank. He can't possibly miss. The cannon doesn't go off. It sparks, and it dies. His head twitches up to that spiralling energy of Kushiko's, and then to the distant Mesa. Note hits him in the stomach. Her first blow doesn't bow him. She hammers into a cerulean haze of energy, the shield dispersing the kinetic energy and lessening the impact. She doesn't actually touch him; her skin is a fraction of an inch from the surface of the armor, held off by a glowing energy field for that heartbeat they connect. The beat passes. He drops the cannon mid-combo, swinging his arms up into trained but non-expert blocks. She pounds through the shield with a flurry of blows, feeling the satisfying sense of hands chopping into oddly-smooth metal. It /feels/ like she's hitting armor worn over a person's body, strikes bruising and battering the wearer underneath, but the lack of seams that aren't clearly grafts... The cannon hits the ground. She dives past him, smaller stature helping her get behind him. A kick snaps up -- and he twists, taking the hit in the hip, skidding backwards across the artificial platform and into the snow, casting a spray of white up behind him. Weiss appears at about the same time, giving him a second to recover from the staggering blow and cast a head-twitch of acknowledgement toward the decloaked figure. And then he's snapping that handgun up from where it had adhered to his other hip, swinging it in line with the Saiyan. He fires with expert control and astounding precision, aiming to stitch three bullets from shoulder to elbow on her favored side and then pop her in the knee with the fourth. Hand-to-hand did not seem to be his forte; this, however, is. 

:'''{{#var:6386|Note (6386)}} has posed:'''     Note. Is. LEARNING!     And how is this known? Because she takes advantage of the situation! With the 'Betrayer' getting knocked sailing away for a few seconds, she drops her stance low and brings both hands to her side, palms opposite each other.     A crimson aura rushes up around her as the Kaioken's called upon once again to surge her power beyond its limits!     "Kaaaaaa..... Meeeeeee..... Haaaaaa.... Meeeeeeee...."     It does, indeed, look like she's about to BLAST the 'Betrayer' with the best she's got! With the Shooting Gallery power flowing through her, that would be pretty intense, wouldn't it? A swirling sphere of compressed, roiling Ki forms between her palms, spears of light escaping from the technique as she shapes and forms it! The Betrayer's in trouble, right?     Except...     Except, that's NOT her target. Instead Note reacts to WEISS coming down at her, springing upwards with both her feet and swerving just to the side--     And then, the wacky happens! Note's TAIL curls ever so slightly around the plunging foot as it's coming down... and as Note's rising.     This results in her swinging around to just BEHIND the descending Weiss...     "HAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" And thrusting both her hands down and at Weiss's back, unleashing a torrential outpouring of searing blue-white ki at practically point-blank range with Weiss caught between the blast and the ground... if all goes well!     This will not be at all a great thing for ANYONE near ground zero, as the beam slams into the frozen ground with or without a Weiss trapped below! Snow's vaporized and the ground beneath it just EXPLODES in a thundering drill-like effect. DOWN DOWN DOWN goes the beam into the surface of the asteroid...     The downside to this is that Note's exposed! "Will you STOP trying to shoot me?! Someone like you's coming to help!" Well... that's what she HOPES is going on. All she has to go on is the weird similarity between what the Mesa feels like... and the 'Betrayer!'     But shots have been fired, and so she has to abort the Kamehameha to shield herself! The first few bullets strike her arms and legs, penetrating only an inch or so and then rebounding OUT but leaving nasty looking wounds. Others...     Frantically, while cranking on FULL REVERSE FLIGHT to put some distance between herself and this mess, Note sweeps her hands this way and that, striking bullets STRAIGHT OUT OF THE AIR with blink-and-you'll-miss knifehands. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:'''     <<Makes sense why they'd drop him in unarmed. Not that it'd stay that way for long if other people got to bring weapons.>> ||That may have been the point. A sporting head start. Clearly an individual or creed of some infamy.|| <<That just means the stuff is worth the trouble! He seems like a smart guy!>>     Of course, Zwei can't just leave the guy to get beat to a pulp by an ornery monkey. On the other hand, Weiss doesn't have a lot of approach options. Jumping into CQC at a dialed down tempo likely wasn't an effective call, but it keeps the Saiyan busy while the Betrayer gets some distance and puts that gun she'd tossed him to good use, keeping Note occupied with the bullets that'd been left. Good old Willis had the sense to only use one. <<Whoa!>> ||Yes.|| <<Castling out!>> ||Castling in.||     Rather than get taken along for a whole convoluted combo ride and eat a kahemaha to the face like an absolute idiot, Weiss surrounds herself with . . . well not much. An aura of redshifted 'tint' on the environment around her, or at least an artifact of the eye to that effect. The giant beam blast competely drowns out the result --both visually and audibly-- with its gratuitous overkill, no doubt criminally guilty of the dramatic billowing smoke cloud for firing directly into a mined-out space rock. Rather than clearing to show the season's villain utterly unscathed by the attack, it blows away to show that Weiss had gone 'nope not dealing with this', and vanished somehow. Not 'put the camo back up' vanished, but vanished vanished.     Not out of the fight entirely it seems. Note has only just turned back to the Betrayer when the same aberrant tinge of light, this time shifted violet, drops Weiss out of the air and into a dropping tackle onto the frankensteined combatant from behind, only to flash red again and take him with her along a sonic crack of a briefly lived vacuum, and the faint smell of air plasma. This is to deliberate effect, where the two of them wind up right back up at the twin pods that this whole mess had started from, communicating with her impromptu partner/abductee who doesn't really have any better choice completely via encrypted transmissions.     Zwei doesn't have any illusions about that somehow shaking the entire dome off though, nor really buying enough time to do much. That's why the castle maneuver, so named after its chess origins, deposits an additional adversary in the way of the group. As opposed to Weiss' feminine, humming glass rim tones, a voice addresses Note that sounds like an ammo fire being broadcast through a bass amp, saying simply:     ||"Hello."||     The inhuman figure easily three times Note's height then swings a proportionately oversized fist at her, going through the entire windup and followthrough motions at a janky super-accelerated pace, briefly igniting the air from what could only be called a "sucker punch" for being too fast and under-telegraphed to really seem sporting. An actual boom follows the swing. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:''' <<Was that really necessary? That punch was like a quarter of the battery! You know the budget!>> ||I know, and yet it felt worthwhile.|| <<Sending a message?>> ||Sending a message.||     Asche begins moving forward, inexorably tracking across the valley arena with long, bizarrely graceful strides of massive, heavily armoured, triple-jointed legs with an overtly 'take all comers' posture. Weiss remains at the pods, guzzling battery at a precarious rate to crunch the necessary numbers to finish this off. Nobody here needs to /know/ that they're near the end of their tether, and definitely don't have the power necessary to be employing Asche at full throttle. He just needs to be scary for a minute while the ground around the pods bleeds into the red spectrum. Their 'Betrayer' here should know exactly why. Zwei doesn't suspect he has much motive to stay at this point. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' There is some planning gone on with Kushiko and Note, they have a rough plan now; It's something at least Weiss is the target they really need to deal with. She only had a limited understanding of Zwei, other than it was from some kind of Elder race. She keeps that in mind and expects Technology that might as well be full on /magic/. She will just do as she's always done fight and work with what she does know. Weiss, however, is now her primary target, and she will have to act, she now has his close up pistol to deal with and she's had enough issued with firearms to know, staying still is a bad idea, and she shows another aspect of her abilities she's fast and the entire arena is not obstacles to her, no it's a damn jungle gym, for her to get around with. She moves up scrambling up, has her spear in hand again and she will drop down on him intending to take him down with her Melee weapon. <<I'm tied up with this guy sorry!>> 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' This is very literally, going straight to hell in a way she should have accomodated for a little bit better--she didn't communicate when she is so accustomed to /not/ needing to communicate at times, so two things happen: one, she actually throws comms to both Note and Tomoe. The second, is a great deal more simpler, and revolves in her trying to communicate to the 'Betrayer' as well. On the other hand, she is fairly contented by the fact she technically isn't considered the 'Betrayer' as well in question: knock her out, and by potential loopholes in wording, you could make a claim on the prize. Who knows what they could try and do. Still, she crosses the field /rapidly/, practically gliding at one point thanks to her enhanced mobility aspect, to reach the cliff where the Betrayer, Note and Zwei are. She has to trust her at this point, the Iron Lily to fight as she can. Mercifully, the same buff that briefly gave Note some help, will shortly 'jump' to her, giving her a little more oomph at least. Weiss is her current focus, the gunslinger frame bringing herself to bear upon that exosuit once she's gotten herself repositioned. Clinging, actually, to part of the cliffside in that direct vicinity, mostly to give Note some breathing room, but to interfere--only to see... /that/. <"That's just /absurd/."> There's no other way to actually describe what the Saiyan's doing here but absurd. <"Damnit,"> she curses under her proverbial breath, the disembodied voice echoing between herself and the rest of the impromptu 'team' as it were. And then this Asche--Weiss--whatever the hell they are, throws her off for a few moments. She hates to do it, but all she can hope for right now is for Note to be able to hold this newly minted and inhuman figure off for a few fleeting seconds, because she needs to make up for the mistakes she's been making. <"Not your enemy!"> comes Kushiko's disembodied voice. <"You are Tenno, like me! I'm sorry this went down the way it has so far, and I'm /really/ sorry about what happened with your--/really/ sweet Opticor-looking weapon. But I have no intention of letting you be like this."> Like some sport animal for the Corpus. Her Supra Vandal is not leveled at him, but her attention is kept perfectly between him, and looking towards those pods where Weiss is at, before vaulting off of her chosen perch and landing close enough for him to properly 'see' her, as it were, though some sense of cognition happens when she spots Weiss and what they're doing. Part of her playing things this way was to not give the Corpus any openings for their tendency to be completely underhanded. The time for subterfuge is way past gone. <"Not here for any money. Just to get you out of here."> she finishes. <"I don't know what you're doing over there, but explain, quickly, please."> she finishes, leaving Note and Tomoe to their foes. The prospect of another Tenno here, and the growing fear that Weiss may well be doing something that, if she didn't act now... 

:'''{{#var:6386|Note (6386)}} has posed:'''     Awwwwwwwwww crap!! Note blinks a few times! The strange red-light's suspicious, and it puts her immediately on edge. But then... with Weiss dashing off with the VIP... that's odd. DASHING OFF? Not BEATING UP? What's up with that?     ... Is there SOMEONE ELSE here that's got the same mission as Team Kushiko?!     In the few seconds she's mulling this over - and not well, being COVERED in bleeding wounds. The Saiyan-blooded youth's dealing with mounting injury, both from being PUMMELED time and again (really, HOW is she still intact and fighting as well as she is after all that?) AND the incredible strain put on her body by the Kaioken.     And yet she's now got Asche flying straight at her with GINORMOUS FIST ACTION!     Well that's a thing she can deal with. And this time, she's pretty sure there's NO more surprises waiting.     Build-wise, there's ABSOLUTELY no way that Note should be able to deal with that. Asche's tens of times heavier than her for a certainty. And such speed! And yet...     This girl's confidence as a martial artist is NOT misplaced!     "RIGHT BACK AT 'YA!!"     She soars straight at Asche, her own, comparatively miniscule fist slamming straight into the blow.     BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!     Two forces colliding with that much impact is NOT GOOD for anyone nearby. A horrendous shockwave blasts out in all directions, accompanied by what's basically thunder!     And in that one moment, Asche might just be able to calculate that there's something -way- off about Note's mass.     Somehow, it's several times what a girl her age and build ought to be.     Still not quite enough to offset Asche though! Note's sent flying backwards and tumbling end over end... wringing her arm out as it tingles like NOTHING else. "Hnnnnnghh..."     THAT HURT A LOT. But a grin spreads on her face.     FINALLY, A WORTHY OPPONENT!     "ABOUT TIME! Show me what else you can DO. THIS is what I signed up for, not that madness!"     Asche is NOT the only one that can move fast... but Note is much smaller, and she tries to use that to her advantage - by blitzing out of sight and then coming in at odd angles for a lightning series of flying kicks and crushing knifehand chops!     Very few punches from this girl. Her fighting style's way more refined and precise than most Zwei might've seen so far! 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' The last, heroic Corpus broker does his best to fight the Iron Lily, but it doesn't end well. He empties the automatic pistol into her -- or maybe more accurately into the spot she had just been standing, bright blue bolts scattering through the air. A few pass over the head of his partly-frozen teammate, earning him a yelled, "Watch it!" from the struggling man. Tomoe moves in to finish the fight, and no amount of backup guns is going to stop her. It's a one-two punch to drop him, turning him from courageous capitalist Corpus competitor to someone crumpled and crushed. He's laid out flat without much effort now that he's alone, and, thanks to that shield drone, probably isn't even dead. They worked well as a team, but alone, they can only do so much! Meanwhile, momentary contact is made. Attempts to get anything from this so-called Betrayer result in garbled radio transmissions, like his outgoing comms were being jammed. It makes communicating in the heat of the moment next to impossible. It doesn't mean he doesn't understand, though. Note yells, and the patchwork combatant looks up through the cloud of pulverized space-rock, body language indicating confusion. He staggers slightly, looking this way and that with another blurt of senseless static. After a second, he finds the other Warframe in the confusion of the battle, flashing hand signals at it: 'radio contact,' 'negative,' 'hostile tech,' 'unknown.' That's about when Weiss teleport-tackles him. Totally unprepared for it, he gets dragged along for the ride, translocated up to the pods and getting his footing again almost immediately. There's another blurt of noise, and he turns to Weiss, extending a thumb and pinky on one hand like a phone while he clips the gun to his side again, and then tapping knuckles and shaking the hand like something was broken. He can't so easily communicate in combat cant, and it looks like he really can't physically speak, either. Kushiko points her big gun his way. Not /at/ him, but she makes it clear that she's got it. She closes, and his hand snaps back up, pistol held tight. He keeps it pointed at her, putting himself between her and the pod. His free hand slowly reaches up, touching two fingers to the side of his head, and then slowly pulling his hand away again, rubbing them with his thumb and looking at them quizzically. Like they should be wet, maybe from an injury. He shakes his head. The Betrayer pats around his chest like he was checking pockets, then makes a casual discarding gesture. Something small and round drops at his feet. He rotates his left wrist, lowering his gun and nudging Weiss with the back of his right hand, and snaps the fingers on his left with a sharp, metallic ring. A rapid series of quiet popping sounds go off all over the arena. They coincide with the entry elevators opening again, another dozen Moas in rank and file ascending into the arena -- -- and then into the air, gently drifting inside a faintly blue-tinted bubble-like haze, utterly immobile. The exterior of the field ripples with a grid pattern in white light that rolls in circles around the edges. Identical fields go off across the near side of the ravine, blanketing the area around the pod in stasis fields, holding anyone unfortunate enough to be inside one just off the ground and in a tight press of immobility. Weiss may detect momentary weightlessness, but it vanishes after a fraction of a second. They're standing in one, but the two of them are unaffected. It ought to buy some time for them to bail. The Cephalon announcer is, of course, flipping his proverbial shit. 

:'''{{#var:596|Zwei (596)}} has posed:''' ||Typical, I suppose.|| <<They don't tend to learn, no.>> ||Assessing weapon escalation.|| <<Nah, not necessary. Looks like our guy has it figured out by now. It'll be costlier to fight than stall at this point, and I still don't know how resynthesis will fare.>> ||Rerouting majority power to Personal Interdiction Field, then. Maximum attenuation scale.|| <<Looks like I'm almost done here~>>     On Weiss' end, she turns back to verbal communication when the Betrayer indicates the full extent of technical failures with his . . . sssuuuit? There's organics in there. <<"Sheesh. That's going to be a pain. Don't worry, I'll get you fixed up once we've ditched these- speak fo the devil.">> Weiss stares down Kushiko instead, largely through the peripheral sensor feed, though she has to turn her lack-of-a-face to her in order to actually give the impression she's looking.     <<"Real sorry you lost, you mean? Really. You're looking for some kind of long lost brother, so the first thing you do is enter a death match with prize money for killing him? Alongside a career mercenary and assassin, and a clearly bloodthirsty nutcase who's already tried to kill the poor guy. Sorry, but I'm not buying it~ I think this is a lame attempt to get us to lower our guard. You won't even put down the gun, and neither of us are properly armed. As far as I know, you're just another treasure hunter, wandering around and shooting people for money, tech, and trinkets. I wouldn't expect solidarity out of you~">> Her tone could not be more subtly disingenuous, and yet intentionally biting, leaving no doubt as to whom is the bad guy in this narrative she's weaving, even as the snow turns blood red.     In stark contrast, Asche is having none of Note's shit. His forward strides remain measured, even, and consistently non-intensive, and he produces no weapons nor takes any further swings at her. On the surface, his path seems more or less irrelevant. He does this while weathering the martial artist's (literally) bloody assault with a posture that can only seem apathetic due to permanently lacking facial features. Where she swirls around his hulking frame, her chops and strikes land on various surfaces that genuinely hurt to be punching.     There are no conveniently exposed wires or typically unarmoured joints here, like some B-grade mecha anime. It's flat black plating that feels like punching the side of a building-sized diamond, with a subsurface layer of faint, hexagonal iridescence that fills with ripples of tesselating white light where the blows land, letting off sparse jumps of pale sparks, despite the eerie lack of haptic feedback that can't be rationalized with numb hands. ||"Worthy of whom?"|| Asche rumbles.     The facade of invincibility is stringently maintained for almost a full minute, navigating around snow, crags, and catwalks, right up until the Betrayer makes his last series of gestures, where Asche very abruptly stops. Specifically, he stops /just/ short of one of the stasis field emitters, in a tiny deadzone between adjacent devices, as what is certainly a planned move to get Note to fly right into one.     Knowing that the others are going to be hard pressed to approach her with one surrounding her and the Betrayer, Weiss lets herself relax just enough to fire off <<"There's the bell~ Too little too late, wannabe. Better luck next time~!">> before, all factors willing, she, the Betrayer, and the pods the Corpus had dropped into the arena, wink out in a crackle of bent light. If this throws the whole Index event into chaos, all the better. They can always blame Tenno scum, after all. 

:'''{{#var:6386|Note (6386)}} has posed:'''     IGNORING Note is something she's finding downright INFURIATING, but after the first ten seconds of heavy kicks and speedy chops doing little to either get Asche's attention OR slow the hulking machine down... she's getting pissed.     On the verge of flipping her lid at him, in fact.     But after one last frustrated kick, seeing that he's not even GOING towards any of her allies or anything important anymore, she uses the rebound to SPRING away, somersault spectacularly through the air and disengage. She can HEAR the elevators on the move after all, and decides that with everything going WONKY...     Yeah, she just flies straight off towards the dome's ceiling in a huff to get a better look at the full battlefield!     "Alright, what's going on here." The youth grouches out to herself, bloodied arms folding. Almost as an afterthought, she curls her tail 'round her waist securely.     And now that she's away from the battle, she starts checking over her wounds with what attention she can spare, mostly just BREATHING.     But without her jacket, this clime is kind of a problem. "N-nothing going on here makes any sense! W-who runs DEATHMATCHES... that's c-crazy!" Yep. Starting to shiver a little. 

:'''{{#var:964|Kushiko (964)}} has posed:''' Yeah, the tech shoved in him... that burst of static she got before, that was vastly, overwhelmingly angering to her. Fury flows off of her frame like cold smoke, even if there is no outward sign of it, it's something that can be /felt/. The only thing keeping her from assailing Weiss and to an extent, Asche right now is the sign language she picks up from from the Betrayer. Her fellow Tenno. What mockery have they done to you? And then Weiss talks. And keeps talking. And you know, just keeps. Talking. Everything she says, once it has that moment to completely percolate. It takes a lot, and we do mean a lot to actually hit certain buttons for Kushiko, when it gets right down to it. <"You don't know anything."> is the eerie, sinisterly calm voice. And in this moment, this instance of personal failure, something in Kushiko isn't really Kushiko anymore. The only reason, and we do mean the only reason Weiss doesn't find herself at being immediately trained on by that instrument of rapidfire bullshit is the stasis traps that the so-called 'Betrayer' has set up. Who she recognizes for being a fellow Tenno, no matter what Weiss paints in a narrative. Regardless, she has to somersault out of it, immediately and completely. <"For as much you're spewing, you need to pile on as much of a lie as you claim me to be."> she seethes. Enough of this. Enough of everything, beyond it all. There's a part of her that was trying to be nice about this, trying to, oh, we don't know, be considerate with regards to other people, with this Multiverse. That part has checked out at this point. This part ignores Weiss' monumental heaping of lies and things people like it or her or whatever they are say in a situation like this. Before that teleport has a chance to get off, she immediately drops into her Peacemaker stance, and between Asche and Weiss? Absolute enormous, beyond belief amounts of firepower erupts from her. 'Parting shot' in terms of 'parting artillery strike' in gun form. No more words. Just singular, murderous fury the likes of which she's rarely given /reason/ to express. And as much as they may well be gone in the next moment, the sheer disgusting rate of fire she puts out downrange is something to remember. <"Tomoe. Note. Whoever you are. Get out of here."> That's the only warning. Every single MOA is reduced to slag within seconds. She drops from Peacemaker. The elevators from which they emerged from are targeted by her. There's a way for the pair to leave. But anything standing in her way will not have that chance to leave. And she screams--her voice deafening, disembodied and her very presence radiating the brand of GET THE FUCK AWAY like it's rarely done to this degree. Her form, Mesa drops. And a radiant beam, completely rendering any kind of sensor input invalid as she tears her way through the elevator--for a brief instant, one could see something... like a child? But it didn't last long. And then, she was gone. More than likely to murder and annhilate every single Corpus that wanted to come up here. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has the guy down she doesn't move to finish him off, she just wants to get this done and out of here. She now turns her attention to what else is going on as she flares, her wings out again. She turns her attention now to the remaining foes. She takes a look at Weiss for a moment. She stares at Weiss for a moment she is thinking about her next option. % She looks over to Note. She sees Note's not dead, good she also sees she's out of things for the most part and now it comes down to this doesn't it? "Moa's are going wild it's time to go Note!" She is now taking to the air. She's seen what Kushiko can do and she wonders how did someone chain a Tenno like this? It's honestly horrifying more so than the killing power of the Tenno. The Tenno chose their jobs, having someone using them like this? She is about to shoot her mouth off at Zwei then outright stops. She hears what Kushuiko has said how she said it. "Note we are leaving!" She will rapidly move to scoop up Note if she needs to and get the heck out of here she trusts in Kushiko to handle this and there's not much more she can do, she does not want to get caught in what Kushiko is letting loose. 

:'''{{#var:6393|Zek (6393)}} has posed:''' The 'Betrayer' is unable to cut in and say anything about whatever Weiss is talking about. He looks between her and the Mesa nearby, back and forth, as if trying to puzzle something out. Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to be able to do it. He takes a half-step back towards the cryopod instead, sliding a foot backwards and subtly lifting one arm away from his side like he was trying to more physically cover it. This turns out to be a good decision. The Mesa opens up on the one offering a way out, and it's four rapid-fire shots before he makes the decision to step out in front of the firepower just long enough for the red glow to ferry them away. Incoming shots hammer into his recharged shields, lasting just long enough that the last before they're gone dents armor as it shatters the protective energy field. He's staggering when he and the pod disappear. Corpus walkers start to steadily rise up into the arena, seemingly intent on overwhelming the other Tenno. The stasis fields collapse seconds after the second wave arrived, releasing the imprisoned. The field becomes a mess of laser-fire and fills with the mechanical cries of the odd walkers. A green marker flickers into sight on maps and comm devices, leading towards a nearby airlock. It's time to go. 

:'''{{#var:6386|Note (6386)}} has posed:'''     No need to tell Note twice about leaving today! Seeing the Moas and Corpus flood in and seem DECISIVELY unfriendly... Note's decided she's ended up in the WRONG arena for today. VERY wrong. Despite all the pain she's in, she sees Tomoe swooping around down below and Kushiko handling herself... and kind of heading off forthings that make Note shiver. Having put two and two together at this point, she scrunches up her shoulders in distaste at this whole mess...     And sucks in a breath.     "KAI-O-KEN... TIMES FIVE!!" In her weakened state, using this technique's a bit risky. Her arms and legs shake and tremble and tight muscles ripple... but she gathers her roiling Ki and ROCKETS down along with Tomoe at freakish speeds, heading straight for the elevators.     It... really doesn't matter HOW many Moas or soldiers are in her way now. Or even if the elevator is in her way. She just BRUTE FORCES straight through it all like a crimson meteor that doesn't give a **** that something's in its way. Metal is torn out of the way. Walls are busted through! Soldiers are batted aside and into walls. Moas are torn to ribbons with kicks and chops and ki blasts before they can even get a LOCK on her.     She's fleeing straight to the warp gate she came in on. 
}}

5739/MDCC: Vector

2018-03-27T05:34:00Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/03/27 |Location=Filler |Synopsis=Filler |Cast of Characters=998, 973, 1137, 1149, 8, 33 |pretty=yes }} {{Poses |Poses=:'''{{#var:998|Lexicon (..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/03/27
|Location=Filler
|Synopsis=Filler
|Cast of Characters=998, 973, 1137, 1149, 8, 33
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:998|Lexicon (998)}} has posed:'''     "Lexicon!"     A familiar voice calls out over the speakers of Lexicon's computer. When a screen showing video of a black-haired DCC appears in the corner, though, Lexicon immediately mouses over it and closes the panel, eliciting a shocked squeak from the caller that appropriately cuts short.     Just as Lexicon gets back to the game she's playing, the screen reappears right in the middle, "Lex--!" Without skipping a beat, she closes it again.     Not even a second later, the pane returns, enlarged so that the edges are beyond the monitor edges. Dominating the monitor is the fuming, red-faced girl from before. With a sigh, Lexicon surrenders, closing her eyes, "Damnit. What do you want? I'm trying to relax here."     "You gave your contacts to SALTAVI, of all people?! And Alea?!" the furious girl shouts. Lifting a hand, she points, "Give me that information, too! It's only fair since you've been expanding your influence!"     Brow knitting, Lexicon closes her eyes with a sigh, "...Fine." --     Welcome to Vector, the Onyx City of Design.     'Factory' immediately comes to mind. Because this place has a LOT of them arranged in a grid pattern. Industrial blocks are separated by multi-level roads, and the entire thing radiates from the center-- a great, black spire that looks like a combination between a church, an industrial complex, and decorative architecture. Great 'wings' of roofwork made out of ornate emerald-colored metal, supported by brass, make it immediately recognizable.     A latticework of high-level catwalks run between the much taller buildings, while shorter structures seem to aspire towards it.     While Vector's aesthetic screams industry, waffling between steampunk and brass in some districts, and hyper-advanced industrial automation in others, there's none of the expected pollution. Everything runs off the Resource network. Here, the characteristic glowing lines of Resource pathways glow a deep purple, almost like how one might imagine 'black' things glowing.     The System Bus deposits the invited guests to the main terminal in Vector. It's located within the city, on one of the mid-height structures that gives visitors a view of the city from above, rather than the possible claustrophobia of the streets at ground level.     Of more immediate interest would be the white-haired woman floating a few meters up and away from the Terminal platform. Clad in a recognizable black bodysuit with white accents, held aloft on wings with feathers shaped like glowing blue diamonds, with metallic Processor pieces floating beside her hips and shoulders. Most telling would be the Resource symbols glowing in her pupils.     Less immediately interesting is a black-haired girl in a black dress, seated off to the side, playing something noisy on her phone. 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Off the bus steps a fairly plain looking human girl. Brown hair done in a neat pair of sidetails with little red ornaments covering the ties. She's carrying a little white bundle of something or other in her arms, which stirs then the girl adjusts her arms, lifting its angular dragon head to look around, before stretching and taking wing, doing a little coil around the young woman, before landing on her shoulder.     Keiko Ayano has a leg in a brace! Her right leg showing signs of having, relatively recently, been badly fractured at least. It doesn't seem to be slowing her down, and her Avatar should bouy her physically up to fight, at least she hopes so. Brown eyes look over at the girl sat nearby, then at the obvious DCC floating above the platform. She bows lightly to the latter. "Hello, I'm Keiko Ayano, thank you for meeting us." 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' There is a minotaur here, as there has been on many different occasions in this strange computer system of a universe. Of course, it'd be hard to tell that he's even present right now. Not because it's not obvious that he's here (HE IS A GIANT MINOTAUR MAN), but because he's being... extremely quiet. Silent, even. His face is a quiet, observant :> as he... ...Is looming over that black-dressed girl's shoulder, peering like a curious child at the game she's playing on that handheld console. ... ...... jiiiiiiiii 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     As Krusty steps off a System Bus he tugs at each of his sleeves, fixing up his uniform. Then after adjusting his glasses he takes in the sight of this city. Each that he has been to in this world has proved rather interesting and Vector is no different. In particular, the multilayered design is, in his own words, "Impressive." In some aspects the city's design reminds him of one or two dungeons he's explored previously.     But there'll be more time for viewing the sights. For now he turns his attention to the obvious leader of the city, recognizing the style of a DCC. Placing his hand against his chest he bows to her, "I am Krusty, representative of Akihabara's Round Table Alliance. It is a pleasure to be your guest here."     Briefly glancing at the others that are also arriving, Krusty shows a look of concern at the sight of Silica's player in a brace, "Ah, Miss Ayano. Are you alright?" 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' nWell now here Deelel is again in another system, and it had been her main focus in the multiverse as of late. Tessler had been quiet which was it's own problem, there was little she could do about that for now. So here she was in Onyx which she was quite curious about looking at the Industrial city? Deelel had some level of enjoyment taking in the design of the place it was messy sure but she'd long come ot be able to handle the cocnept of things getting drity and messy. Keiko would find that Deelel was coming p behind her and grinning before she too introduced herself. 5R "Greetings Program the ID is Deelel! I'm a multi-media program." 

:'''{{#var:33|Arthur Lowell (33)}} has posed:'''     Arthur wanders off the bus, grinning widely as usual, and takes in the sights, shifting to a floaty, weightless drift. "HELL," He says. "This place is lookin' MAD BUSY. Really putting the MAGNITUDE in DIRECTION AND MAGNITUDE on VECTOR, huh? DAMN, DOG!" He zips around his own center of gravity like a strange sea creature when he looks at fresh angles, before he fires a wave at Deelel. "YO!" He calls out. "WHAT'S GOOD, homie! Good seein' ya!" He immediately assaults her hand with his classic handshake, and this one has a sort of half-backpat in it for someone he's more familiar with.     Then, the white-haired woman and the black-haired girl. The white-haired woman first, obviously. "Yooooooooooo!" He calls out, moving in to assault her hand in much a similar way. An excess of pounds, bumps, low-fives, daps, and funny little slidy finger-wiggly motions, as always. "Here to get that MEET AND GREET on, dog! Name's ARTHUR LOWELL! ROCKET-POWERED JERK, INTERGALACTIC HOOLIGAN, PROFESSIONAL ADVENTURER. What's those HAPS up in VECTOR, homie? Been hearing about OMEGA PANZER up in this motherfucker." 

:'''{{#var:998|Lexicon (998)}} has posed:'''     The game-playing black-hair doesn't seem to notice she's being observed so closely. She taps a foot to the music playing in some kind of jet shooting title, colorful bullet patterns spraying across her phone's screen while she maneuvers a small plane between them. Voices catch her attention though, and she taps a pause button before she glances up to squint suspiciously at the shady characters addressing Obviously The Drive Core Controller.     She catches something from the corner of her eye.     Conati turns a bit more, coming face to abs with Asterios. She blinks, leaning back to look up until she finds his face. With a start, she jumps back, bringing her hands up defensively, "--Whoa!"     A shout that gets Onyx Soul's attention, her eyes glancing that direction before returning to those immediately in front of her. She'd watched Asterios arrive, he doesn't seem to be a threat. And if he is, well, she's /right/ here, and it's not like Conati is defenseless. Lifting her arms, Onyx Soul folds them neatly across her chest, "Welcome to Vector."     A slow nod is awarded to Krusty, first, "You really did your research. Yes, I am Onyx Soul, Drive Core Controller and patron goddess of this Drive." Inclining her head, she adds, "I've heard about your efforts in Arcade and Cadenza. Fine work, I look forward to witnessing your Guild's ability first-hand."     A second nod, "And yourself, miss Ayano. You've assisted during the System Tower, as I recall." Her eyes shift to the brace on the girl's leg, though Krusty actually addresses Keiko about it, so Onyx Soul doesn't pursue it. Instead, she greets Deelel next, "Welcome. Multimedia, then?" Head tilting, she shifts a hand to touch her chin with her thumb, "Though you don't seem to be a native of Cadenza... Systems outside the System, very interesting--"     SUDDENLY, ARTHUR     The Afterusian deity getting up in Onyx Soul's grill with his excessive volume and energy completely catches her off guard. She actually goes for her weapon, a massive blade materializing when she brings her left hand back, only to stay it when the Space Jerk goes for a crazily complicated handshake instead of attacking her.     Her face is a wonder to behold during this bewildering exchange: A mix of offense, surprise, and complete confusion. Right around when Arthur's 'handshake' ends, she's engulfed in a plume of pixellated light, dropping to the ground in her normal form with a distinct 'what the hell, man?' look on her face.     After a moment, the woman-turned-teenager closes her eyes, coughing into one hand to clear her throat. She tries to act regal again when she speaks up, but the effect is significantly diminished when it's coming from a girl with her hair in pigtails, "R-right. Omega Panzer, is that what you all came about?" 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Keiko looks over to Krusty. "I'm fine! Just, after that fight with Barbarossa, I went to a hospital back home and they told me my shin was fractured. They had some stuff left over from the old Union, rapid regeneration tech they built up, but I couldn't afford a full treatment, so they did what I could afford, and put the brace on to let it heal the rest of the way naturally." she explains. "My avatar should support me for battle... I'm just not going to be backflip kicking any cannonballs anytime soon." she adds, giggling softly.     SUDDENLY ARTHUR!     Keiko looks bemused at the Afterusian, then sighs softly, petting Pina's head to relieve the stress. "Yeah, we heard about the viruses being a problem in the other Drives than Britannica, so, we thought we'd help out! It's what we do!" she replies, after Onyx Soul returns to being Struo. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty is no less bewildered by Arthur's actions than poor Onyx Soul. He's heard the man speak on radio channels before so is aware of his punk attitude, though seeing it in person is another thing entirely. But Krusty does his best to ignore the strange behaviour as he turns his focus onto Keiko. After her explanation he nods in understanding and gives her a smile, "A rather awesome display as it was, it's good that there's no permanent damage."     With Onyx Soul turning into her more casual form, Krusty nods in response to her question, "Indeed. Though it would also be interesting to see more of your city as well, if possible." Krusty can't deny that he's had some fun touring the others that he has seen so far. At the very least it would be interesting to see more of the unusual architecture designs. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel had not expected to see Arthur again for a numner of human Life times if ever she new he was. She id disatracted as ARthur arrives and she just forgets herself as Arhtu would find Deel moving into just hug him, hopefully she will recall he likely needs to breath right? "ARTHUR! I didn't think I would see you again for mellisna!" She might legt go after a moment as she gets herself back togehter it's clear she's really, really happy to see Arthur. When she fdinally let goes she looks a bit sheepish. "Ah heh heh thank you for the welcome, and I just go by Deelel I admit." 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' In Asterios' defense, it's a strong will indeed that can avoid being distracted by flashing lights and catchy tunes. He actually turns and sways every so often when the black-hair swivels her jet around to dodge through enormous patterns of bullets. It's thrilling stuff! Also thrilling stuff: ASTERIOS' INCREDIBLE ABS. seriously you can probably cut glass on those things "Aa," Asterios blinks when the girl jumps back. He knows how to deal with this. The minotaur reaches a great big hand forward and... Gently pats her head with a gentle, innocent smile. "It's... okay. Was just watching you play. What is that game called?" Beat. Oh! That pretty white-haired girl just... turned into a still-pretty but more uh. Youthful. Black-haired girl. Of course, Asterios has seen that kind of thing before, and doesn't seem to be too perturbed as a result, though he does wince somewhat at Arthur's... loudness. "Omega Panzer...?" Asterios cants his head. "I just came... To visit. What is this Omega Panzer? Another virus?" 

:'''{{#var:33|Arthur Lowell (33)}} has posed:'''     Deelel being more huggy than he expected sends Arthur for a bit of a loop. This is one of the various Sudden Unexpected Hugs he's gotten in the past couple days. It's so strange! And awkward for him to deal with, considering his own unique private feelings on affection. Despite coming out of the hug looking a little like he's been through a tumbledryer, weirdly tense and such, he still seems to be quite friendly to Deelel, his old ally. "HELL YEAH, figured I'd be up in there for WAY LONGER. Turns out there was some TIME WARP stuff, glad hearin' it wasn't too long." He pounds a final greeting.     Okay, back to harassing the natives.     "Yeah girl yeah gimmie that skin." Arthur mutters eagerly as he hassles the hand of the local guardian deity. He seems to relish his ability to utterly catch people off-guard and overwhelm them with his shenanigans. "Hell yeah, here to do some HEROISM up in that motherfucker. Trying to take down a straight MONSTER BADDIE right?" He does a motion that's all at once a gesture of confidence, a gesture of triumph, and an actual flex. "Got those MONSTER-SLAYING RANKS. Also I know /fuckin' NOTHING/ about VECTOR, got ZERO NETWORK COVERAGE on this rad son of a bitch. What's the DEAL up in here?" He gestures all around. "Looks TOO DAMN COOL, dog. HELLA BUSY, for real."     Yeah, Keiko and Krusty are having entirely the correct reaction to this absurd weirdo suddenly showing up. Arthur's obnoxious shenanigans continue with full momentum. "Hit me with that LOCAL LOWDOWN, dog! I wanna get you bros HOOKED UP on SYNDIE-NET hardcore. Haven't done ANYTHING with the SYSTEM STUFF before but just DUMP THAT DATA and I'll pro'lly CATCH UP as I go."     "I'm up in here from a SYSTEM myself, kinda. Big ol' IMMERSIVE SIMULATION GENESIS APPARATUS s'where I come from, so I'm FOR SURE up in this to help. Lay the BIZ on me and I'll bring that HEROISM!" 

:'''{{#var:998|Lexicon (998)}} has posed:'''     Conati stares, stunned, when this massive horned bull man just reaches out and...pats her on the head. Taking a moment to recover, she shakes her head. Well, there've been weirder programs. "You didn't scare me, I was just surprised someone as big as you got that close..!" She disarms easily, though. Glancing towards the business around Struo, she shrugs and goes back to Asterios, "Uh, I'm Conati, the Candidate here. You were curious?" Tapping her phone, she flips back to the title screen, "It's called Star Blazer. The enemies appear and shoot in time to the music you load up. Alea made it in a collab with Saltavi a while back." Names that she doesn't realize Asterios might not actually recognize.     A few meters away, in an apparently unconnected conversation, Struo straightens herself, then props an arm on her hip again. It still takes her a minute to really process the absurdity pouring out of Arthur's mouth, so she opts for the easier questions first.     "I appreciate your eagerness, this virus has been a real annoyance for everybody." Directed at Keiko, though info about Omega Panzer is somewhat relevant to everyone it seems, "It's actually caused trouble in all of the drives at some time or another." Eyes opening, she adds, "It even endured Tutela and escaped Mordion Gaol, no other virus has managed to pull that off." Lifting her free hand, Struo gestures, "It's very smart. Too smart for its own good. I suspect it came to Vector to try and steal technology to build a new battle form. It's usually a tank or a robot, but we know now that the machine isn't the virus; the virus pilots it from inside."     It's a bit amusing for Struo, watching Arthur's awkward reaction to physical contact courtesy of Deelel. The smug look on her face doesn't last long, though.     More in reference to Krusty and Arthur's requests, she nods once, "Yes, of course. I have every intention of showing you what Vector has to offer." As if in response, a skyride floats down. It's little more than a platform with a cockpit, occupied by a robot and ringed with railings. Confidently, Struo steps aboard, then holds her hands out to either side, "I'll give you the grand tour of the Eternal Factory, as its grand designer!"     Back near Asterios, Conati rolls her eyes, "Oh jeez, she's getting showy again... C'mon." Even though she wasn't apparently invited, that shorter girl that sat off to the side is already boarding the Skyride. And, when put next to Struo-- they actually do look remarkably similar. That's probably the only clue anyone will need when two black-haired, red-eyed girls are in the same place. 

:'''{{#var:33|Arthur Lowell (33)}} has posed:'''     "Wait, so it's SURVIVED for a hella LONG TIME, it's mostly piloting a machine... Awwwww shit, homie, you talkin' a VIRUS that's got AUTOTOMIC SURVIVAL TRAITS? Damn bro!" Arthur says, briefly demonstrating a weird second side to his shenanigans. Wait, what was that? He moves on as quick as he can from the topic! He zips "aboard", drifting weightlessly just above the platform and matching his own personal gravity to its movements. "Hell yeah dog, gimmie that EYEFULL up in this."     he finally does seem to notice Conati. "Heyyyy, is this a SASSY CLONE sorta situation? I used to have TWO SASSY CLONES. Fuckin', I swear, WORST TIME that I've EVER had. You seem WAY COOLER than the last couple I dealt with." Yes, of course he intends to assault her hand with much the same extensive, elaborate, convoluted coolkid handshake. It transitions directly into a swooshy movement that ends with him leaning on the handrail; his pose is precisely calculated to look as cool as possible, and so it's obviously completely forced. "Hit me with those mad FACTORY FACTS, dog!" He says, doing a snapping fingergun at Struo. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:''' Krusty watches with interest as the skyride flies down to meet them. It looks a little bare in function, but Krusty steps onto it without hesitation regardless. To Arthur's words about the virus and it's survival, Krusty remarks, "It does appear that virii in this world can be as self aware as the programs. While the first I encountered was essentially an animal, the second was clearly an intel-" He pauses, before saying, "Was clearly a person. So it's not a surprise that a stronger virus will have survived for quite some time."     The similarities between their host and the other girl that joins them does not go unnoticed by Krusty. He doesn't make any assumptions though, this being a rather strange world as it is. Although the suggestion of them being clones is doubtful to him. But being polite, Krusty gives Conati a smile and introduces himself, "I'm Krusty. Nice to meet you." 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Keiko watches the two sisters carefully, eyes flicking between Struo and Conati. She walks over to the Skyride, mounting it with a little bit of effort, favoring her braced leg. "So, it's a Virus that uses a shell to protect itself... Sounds like how some bacteria work... they can survive in even intense heat by making a shell around them..." she frowns a bit. "Except this one is using a shell like a vehicle..." she ponders, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "We'll have to come up with a plan to crack the shell, so we can crack the proverbial nut inside." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel was being honest and just was over come iwth how happy she was to see Arthur she forgot herself for a moment. She looks sheepishly at Arthur for a moment before she says another thing. She looks back to their host now for a moment. She seems to be fine now with all things said. She thinks for a moment at what Arthur says. "Many don't take well to having another iteration of them, if it is evil clones we are going to have a time of it." She also sees Krusty is here again good he knows his stuff for a moment. "A rare frew like Christmas are harmless and have proven they are." She thinks though some of them have been down right the stuff of nightmares. "Humm I'll trust you on that Silica. Biology still escapes me in many ways." 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:'''     "Conati," the great big bullman says, having stopped patting her head after she went and shook it. He knows now better than to continue patting a girl's head when the moment passes. It musses their hair! And that is only a sometimes OK thing. "I am Asterios. It's good to meet you! And your sister." He turns his eyes again to the phone, blinking a couple of times. "Mmn, so it's... Music-based? I wonder... Does it get harder with faster songs? Or do slower songs have... bigger enemies?" ASTERIOS IS INTERESTED IN GAME DESIGN. (Don't let him near anything like that. He might just make Super Etrian Odyssey or something.) But! It seems that the pair of sisters have plans regarding their visitors. Asterios nods and follows Conati along as the subject of conversation shifts to the virus, Omega Panzer. It... Sounds... familiar. "A virus wearing shells... I fought something... similar." Asterios murmurs, remembering that incident back on Locus. "Some kind of dragon that was actually just a shell-body. Mmn... It was hard to destroy, but we managed. Is this the same kind of virus?" 

:'''{{#var:998|Lexicon (998)}} has posed:'''     "Is that what they do?" Struo blinks as Keiko explains something about organic bacteria, "Very interesting. I've been wanting to study biologicals for a while. I'm sure the animals outside the System could inspire some very useful vehicles or robots." Closing her eyes, she places a hand to her collarbone, fingers splayed in that haughty, proud way some girls tend to do, "It's just a hobby of mine, really, though you might argue it's what I was made to do in the first place. I do like blueprint drafting, it's pretty relaxing."     With everyone aboard, the Skyride disconnects from the terminal. It dips slightly due to the weight, and the soft puttering of the engine has an audible strain to it for some reason, but it eventually does gain altitude again. The robot pilot glances back, and Struo gestures, "Circle the Cathoderal and come back here, via the assembly district."     "Actually yes!" Conati brightens as Asterios guesses game mechanics, "Or else slow songs would be too easy, right?" She doesn't even seem surprised that Asterios made the sister connection so easily. However, Arthur draws a look from Conati, even as her hand is briefly seized for the crazy coolkid handshake. Narrow-eyed and suspicious, and she asserts, "I'm not a clone." in a grumpy voice, "I'm the Drive Core Candidate for Vector."     This is where Struo starts, "--That's right..! This is my little sister, Conati." She hadn't forgotten her sibling, the younger one was just not involved in the conversation until now, "Thanks for joining us."     Conati lets out a sigh, placing her own hands on the railing. Below, several conveyors feed into automated structures, and rapid-moving mechanical arms can be seen moving about through a glass ceiling, assembling materials into mechanisms in quick succession, "Struo and I draft up nearly all the blueprints used here. She can design anything, it seems like, but I'm really only good at weapons. Since there's no wars going on, they're used to outfit anti-virus patrols and the Vector Navy."     "But," Struo chimes in, "She's really good at it, so I leave it to her." A compliment that cuts off some possible self-pity starting to show up. Bad time for dramatics..! Glancing over her shoulder, the DCC gestures, "This line is building transit. My goal is to completely replace Vector's public transport system by the end of the month." Lifting her gaze, she draws attention to the wing-decorated structure, "And that's my home! The Cathoderal." Eyes closing, she puffs up a bit with pride, "Every year I change the exterior, to keep things fresh. Modular exterior construction is something I'm very proud of. This year's theme is Processors."     Struo glances back towards Asterios, "Mm?" Eyes closing, she thinks. But she's not as connected as Lexicon, and admits that, "I'm not caught up on events in Locus, so I don't know what kind of virus you're talking about. They could be similar, I guess. Omega Panzer's been around for a few kilocycles, now, so it could be something pretty nasty inside. I heard about Caerbannog, the ancient ones are always the worst." With a shrug, she adds, "Or maybe it's just a brainy Malvader with an eyepatch, a scar, and a score to settle. We'll find out when we open it up like a can of olives." 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty leans against the railing as he looks down towards the view below them. He's rode his griffin often, so isn't troubled by the height. As he examines the view of the manufacturing process he listens. He's not a manufacturing expert so can't appreciate the finer points, but he gets the general idea, "An impressive goal." He turns to look at Struo, "Are you facilities solely dedicated to developing Vector, or do you provide your services to others as well?" Krusty asks, knowing that there are a couple of Alliance members who would be interested in what he's seeing today. And perhaps there's an opportunity to establish trade.     Of course when the Cathoderal becomes the main point of the tour, Krusty can't help admire the beauty and sheer majesty of the sight. Perhaps it's a little overboard, if only due to the large amount of effort that he would assume went into the construction. Still, you can't help but admire the results.     Of course as talk briefly touches on the virus in question, Krusty smirks a little, "Doesn't matter how nasty it is, or what kind of protection it's got. It will be dealt with." 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Keiko nods a bit to Struo. "They do, yeah... I could bring you some books I've been studying. I'm training to become a veterenarian, between helping people that is... I could let you borrow some of the beginner level anatomical analysis text books if you like." she offers, then moves to look out over the side of the platform. "It's really impressive..." and then she kind of sidles up beside Conati. "Weapons to protect your people with are also necessary. We all have our own strengths and specialities, trying to be like someone else will just make you lose sight of who you really are." The brunette has had experience with this, apparently. 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' The virus... has been around for that long!? ...Wait. Is a kilocycle a long time? ... ... Asterios tilts his head. "What's a kilocycle?" Beat. But soon! The party is off on a magical (read: technological) carpet (shuttle) ride across the city's skyline. "Aa," Asterios sounds, staring with wide eyes at the... Rather expansive cathoderal. Those are some pretty incredible wings! "Mmn, very... Fancy. Fancier than the one in Britannica, but... What happens... when it gets windy? ...Do the wings break off?" Beat. "Mmn, weapon design is important," Asterios says, then. "So is city planning. I knew someone once, who helped design a city! And another, who built many amazing things. Flying machines. Inventions. I am... jealous, sometimes. I can only create mazes." Although what constitutes 'a maze' is actually pretty broad. "But... Hm. Maybe that's why Omega Panzer is here. Do you have... a new mobile weapon prototype or... something?" 

:'''{{#var:33|Arthur Lowell (33)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, okay, that explains the sass better." HEH. Arthur seems to accept this explanation with no trouble.     "Damn dog, you bring the STYLE on the ARCHITECTURE. Should'a had you around when I had to do the damn HOUSEBUILDS way back in the day. Doing that fresh nightmare of nonsense would'a been EASY with you 'round to do it." Arthur says, eyes wide and eyebrows high up on the top shelf of his face for a moment. He probably should avoid further mention of that around Asterios, considering his own probable outcome of interacting with Sburb.     Speaking of Asterios, he asides, "It's a THOUSAND CYCLES, homie." /Thanks/, Arthur. How /helpful/.     "Damn though, you get in CIVIL ENGINEERING plus the ARCHITECTURE? Wait, EVERY YEAR. Hell, that's gotta be a WILD REBUILD. Whay's your BUILDING APPROACH like? Back where I come from it's mostly DRAG-AND-DROP COPYPASTE stuff." And the point of breaching their target? "HELL YEAH, I got PLENTY of MACHINE-FIGHTING RANKS." He pounds a fist into the opposite palm. "I'll bring the CAN-OPENING up on that motherfucker hardcore, NO DOUBT." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel says "Biological life is very chaotic a series of glitches that worked out well." She does not seem insulting it's just how she grasps evoultion of organic life. It's a series of errors that worked out well for the ones who had the errors. Quite different from the code that basics run in to be sure, utterly alien really. She listens for the moment. "An old virus smart enough to not get deleted and to not destroy the host system it's infecting. Sounds like a lot of trouble. Oh what's an olive?" This world has what her does not a system where programs can procreate unlike the Grid which is slowly wasting away in terms of popualtion thanks to Clu's actions. "If he blocks out way I'm certain the Dual Disc can get past it, Krusty. Still the more inforamtion we have the better." She finds it intereing with Silic's planned function in life she. "Really so a healer of animals, correct?" She got how humans and other organic life got attached to their pets and she could get it. They were like Bits on the grid after all. 

:'''{{#var:998|Lexicon (998)}} has posed:'''     The Skyride drops altitude a bit to clear the wings mounted to the roof and walls of the Cathoderal. While the passengers awe over it, Struo closes her eyes and puffs up with pride. "They don't! If they did that'd be a disaster, but I'm not a novice at architectural design, here." An eye opens towards Arthur, and she adds, "I developed an interface. The automation takes care of the heavy lifting. It's a bit complicated since I didn't design it for widespread use, but if you're curious I can show you sometime."     The Skyride banks slightly, looping around the Cathoderal. On the side of the building, on a balcony, a figure in a gray suit glances up, then adjusts their glasses and resumes their business. Behind the structure itself is a rather nice-sized garden, repurposing some of what must have been natural growth before the city built up around it.     "Hey," Conati glances towards Keiko, "Don't console me, I'm not upset about anything. I mean, I appreciate the thought but I don't feel that way." She absolutely does. Though a bit of praise from Struo seems to have perked her up, and she glances up towards the wings of the Cathoderal, "I'm a fan of guns and like building them myself. The bigger stuff is all defensive. I mean, we have a navy but never use it, and it's run by this one flake in an admiral outfit who showed up one day." Closing her eyes, she laughs, "I mean, he even called one of the ships his wife. Super weirdo, but he knows how to run the dockyard, so."     To Krusty's question, Conati glances his way over her shoulder, "Right now we pretty much focus on Vector's development. But I bet if we fired up the secondary complex, we'd be able to export."     "Nah," Struo closes her eyes, cradling her chin in thought, "If we ran the secondary complex in conjunction with the primary, the Resource drain would be really heavy. We could only do that if I was the System Core Controller, and at most we could manage that for... a week?" Glancing aside, she adds, "It's a really competitive position. Saltavi has it right now."     She returns to her thoughtful pose, furrowing her brow, "There weren't any prototypes ready for manufacture, yet... If you're thinking Omega Panzer is here to grab our latest and greatest, I mean. He's probably going to salvage destroyed units and Frankenstein himself something new. He's done that before."     "Also," Conati glances the other way, "A kilocycle is about the same length as one year on the outside." A quick explanation for Asterios, "The time measurement is a bit different but there's a close enough analogue to compare." Glancing back down, she leans on the railing again, "...Also, thanks." 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Keiko smiles patiently at Conati. She doesn't say anything more, but reaches up to lightly pat the younger DCC on the shoulder, before turning her attention back to the conversation at hand. "So, a scavenger as well? That's good to know, so expect unpredictability in combat ability... I don't like unpredictable boss patterns..." she sighs. "But, I'll help out, definitely." 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty has to wonder at the wisdom of selecting such an apparently unqualified person as commander of a defense fleet. However it's apparently working so he doesn't dwell on it. But as to the answer about exporting, Krusty hmms thoughtfully, "A shame..."     More to the matter at hand, Krusty briefly ponders their eventual hunt. Looking at Struo he asks, "I assume you have some kind of lead on where we might find this virus?" Obviously before they can apply the beat down they'll have to locate him. Or potentially draw him out, "If he's looking for interesting tech to integrate into his machine, perhaps there is something that could be used as bait." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' It's time to head out and she doesn't have much toruble with the ride as she looks to Conati for a moment. She hnobs her head a litlte bit. "Firearms? Not too comon for where I'm from, but we have a few mostly you'd call them anti material weapons." She thinks for a moment. "Inter Drive trade levels of exports or multiveral level?" She's curious about the line of thinking that Krusty question has exposed with Conati. "So that's a fair amount of time. Sounds like cycle back home." 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' "Mmmn, so it's an ... old virus." SEE ARTHUR THIS IS HOW YOU HELP EXPLAIN THINGS. "I see. Age and feeding... has made it strong. So even if it doesn't take a new machine, it can still be dangerous. Mmn, maybe need to check an arms dump, or warehouse or... something like that." Asterios pauses, then smiles and... Pats Conati's head. "You do good work. Just saying what I am... seeing." 

:'''{{#var:33|Arthur Lowell (33)}} has posed:'''     "PAULDRONS over there got some SOLID SCHEMES on this, damn." Arthur says, snapping a finger and pointing at Krusty. "If he's gettin' his ROAM ON 'cause the dude needs GEAR, just gotta find out where the GEAR is. You do a ton of REPLACEMENT on shit, right? Where's that FLOW headed on shit not gettin' RECYCLED? Follow the SCRAP, find the SCRAPPER, right?"     He ponders the matter of the admiral. "I actually HUNG AROUND a PLACE where you just DID WHATEVER YOUR COSTUME WAS. Had to straight fuckin' BEAT UP a JOKER in a SUN-GOD COSPLAY. Real son of a bitch. Ask him to TAKE OFF HIS HAT, and if he SWEATS then you DECK HIM ONE." He slams his fist into the opposite palm. "BAM!"     "NICE TOUR though, DAMN dog!" Arthur says, grinning and yanking out his smartphone from some strange game-inventory abstraction to take some photos of the Cathoderal. At least one ironic selfie is taken, but he refrains from doing more just for the sake of not being /too/ annoying to the others here. Just the regular amount of annoying. 

:'''{{#var:998|Lexicon (998)}} has posed:'''     "Well," Struo glances towards Krusty, "That doesn't mean exports are out of the question. Just that we'd have limited windows to produce them." She shrugs, "Until I can develop more effecient construction machinery, it's one of the limitations Vector has to face right now." Eyes closed, she shrugs, "I don't like admitting my faults.. but there it is."     Both Conati and Struo look directly at Krusty for a moment, then at one another. After a moment, Conati nods once and turns away. Lifting up her phone again, she taps something. The word 'Ping' flashes a few times on the screen, then switches to 'Link'. A screen appears above it, depicting a distracted looking person, who doesn't react until Conati speaks, "Kei. It's me. My AX-3 project in the workshop? I want you to pack it up and send it to this location in the Steam district."     "Understood," Kei responds without looking, "It'll be there in ninety minutes."     "Good. Just drop it in the terminal and leave." This gets Kei's attention, and she glances towards the screen's camera in surprise. However, Conati cuts the connection before any questions could be asked. Tucking her phone away, the Candidate grins, "We'll use my new cannon prototype to lure him out. If he's a tank again, he'll want a really good gun on top, and who could resist a 'misplaced' prototype from the Cathoderal itself?"     Struo grins, "Then I guess we're taking a detour. Skyride!" The robot steering the platform beeps, "Take us to the Steam district, offload terminal C18." The machine reacts by gently banking towards one of the clearly older districts of Vector, lower structures, less advanced archiecture. Almost Victorian, with the brass and brickwork present, contrasting the metal and glass of the more central assembly plant and Cathoderal.     Conati closes her eyes again when patted on the head, "--Jeez, this again..?" She bats at Asterios' hand as he retreats it. Almost like a cat, "Thanks, I guess."     Struo moves to the front of the craft, folding her arms again, "It's a great idea. The Steam district is mostly outmoded, so we've been using it to gather broken equipment and break it down. A prototype cannon getting mis-delivered for scrapping in a place a scavenging virus is likely to be...Heh..!" Tilting her head down, the black DCC grins, "I'm kind of excited for this. Not only do we get a chance to delete a virus who's plagued the System for years, but I get to boast to the other DCCs that I did what they couldn't..! Heh heh heh..!"     ...     Struo glances over her shoulder at Conati, her expression inquisitive. Conati's response is a simple, wordless thumbs-up. There's next to no context to this exchange, but seems to be important to Struo-- who resumes looking ahead with a grin on her face. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     "None of us are without faults, it's what makes things interesting." As for the issue about potential exports, "But that is good news. I will mention this to the crafting guilds in the Alliance. Perhaps even limited manufacturing capabilities will be useful to us, as we don't have much of our own." While Akihabara has a number of great minds working to improve their technology level, they don't really have the resources or manpower for mass production of the things they discover. Speaking of, "Perhaps they might even be able to assist you with your own efforts to expand." A fair trade!     For now though, they have a virus to hunt and a quest to complete. As Krusty's suggestion is accepted, he watches with interest as the city changes from more advanced machinery to steam based. Not something you see every day. At Struo's excitement, Krusty smiles, "I'm happy to assist." He looks forward too, eagerly anticipating the fun that's soon to be had. 

:'''{{#var:33|Arthur Lowell (33)}} has posed:''' Arthur Lowell says, "Also if you stand in here you will probably be spammed with my codetesting sorry." 
}}

5770/Good Intentions

2018-03-26T02:24:00Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/03/24 |Location=An-Teng, Creation-9999 |Synopsis=The Watch returns to the lair of Kinvat, the Threshold's Toil to pay the toll. |Cast of Chara..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/03/24
|Location=An-Teng, Creation-9999
|Synopsis=The Watch returns to the lair of Kinvat, the Threshold's Toil to pay the toll.
|Cast of Characters=1151, 857, 446, 906, 1138, 1149, 513, 385
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:'''     THOUSAND DRAGONS LAKE     THE PRINCIPALITY OF AN-TENG     CREATION-9999 Thousand Dragons Lake is an enormous body of water abutting the foothills and mountains that lie along the southeast of An-Teng, a coastal province in the South of Creation. It's fed by at least four major rivers coming out of the mountains, and empties to the west in the River of Queens, a wondrous lifeline through the heart of the province. During the day, it's a beautiful sight, with golden sunshine glittering off the wide, blue expanse. It's the middle of the afternoon. Clouds cover the sky in a grey, dismal overcast. Sunlight filters through, but it isn't the sort of pretty sight it was last time the Watch came here. Fortunately, this time they're not going to be spending an hour or more swimming around looking for the place. The meeting point this time is further west on the southern shore, making the walk from the warp gate in the woods a bit more of a hike. There's a small house on stilts there, with unlit standing torches stuck in the sand outside and leading to the near side of a floating dock that extends out over the water. A man in peasant's garb sits at the end of the dock in a conical farmer's hat, his feet in the water and a fishing line cast into the lake. There's a second man in identical clothing apparently napping in a dinghy attached to the dock. No Man, the pale, long-haired and well-dressed young gentleman the group met before, is found the same way he was before: seated in the sand at a small, low square table on the beach. The same wine bottle and array of small cups as before is arranged in front of him, and a parasol keeps the minimal sun off of him. Apparently, he just moved closer to the surface location of the underwater cave and setup shop here instead in case you need him. You've got to get that sunken bridge under control. You know there's a demon down there guarding it, and he demands a toll. The question is, do you produce something to pay, or do you ready for a fight? 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     Well here we are again. Eve pads back to the beach, looking much the same as she did last time. Different outfit however; now she's wearing a salmon-colored sundress and blue sandals. Not exactly swimwear, but it's cute!     She doesn't seem to have brought anything special to the party, or if she has it doesn't show. She's not carrying anything obvious, nor does she have any pockets or other obvious means of carrying anything with her. If she's prepared for this, well, it doesn't really show. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia has some idea of what has happened, but she has never been one to spend much time on reading. However, when she heard that a toll was needed she felt she would have something to offer. Of course, she doesn't seem to have anything out of the ordinary as she walks through the woods with the others. In fact, she looks like a normal princess in an overly extravagant dress and a cute satchel purse that doesn't look like it could hold more than a few small items.      She gives her brilliant red hair a toss as she reaches the beach, then looks toward the people at the dock. "So...would anyone want to show me just where we are going and who we must give these tolls to?" she asks, arms crossing over her chest impatiently. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang is here! She's walking along the path this time, carrying something in a satchel. It seems to glow faintly around the edges. She nods to No Man, and the others, keeping rather more quiet than usual. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Atalanta shows up hella late to the party. (This isn't a party, by Atalantas' reckoning. There's never enough alcohol.)      She is angry. She knows this is probably another water trip, so someone, somewhere, has found a solid green bikini the color of her eyes to dress down in. She's also covered in blood, dragging the skin that contains a lions mane behind her, her bow slung over her back. Atalanta looks off, and it's not unless someone takes a good look that, much like she cut the lions mane, so too, has her own been nicked, the green and blonde strands mixed in with the darker color of the actual lion mane.      She has her perpetual scowl going on. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty has shown up for this second forray into the large lake. He doesn't like leaving things unfinished, which is why he's back. However very little has changed about him, still wearing the same heavy armor that he was during the initial trip.     As the group gathers, Krusty remains silent. He's not greatly experienced in the matters of Creation, definitely compared to others here. But while the others are greeting No Man, Krusty is swiping his finger in the air in front of him. He's scanning through his inventory for something that may represent something of value for his toll. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     With information dispersed and decisions made, Finna is GRUMPY, and she's doing absolutely nothing to show it. A stormy tempest rages across her face, brow furrowed and lips peeled back. She's ornery as they come over what she must do today for what might well be a wild goose chase.     Perhaps to vent some of her frustrations while she waits for others, Finna is ACTIVELY RUNNING AROUND THE LAKE IN A BIG AND ANGRY CIRCLE. No, not the lakeSHORE. The lake itself.     Exactly HOW she is running on the water is not obvious. 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' Yuna's policy is pretty consistently one of avoiding fights - and she actually had an idea for a toll pretty quickly upon hearing that the demon wanted some kind of payment. As such, while she's back in her Light Suit when she gets here (and, as before, has the full Matrix of Light with her), she's also holding a small bag in her hands. The bag appears to be canvas, and - given that we have to go swimming to confront the demon - is *probably* intended to be waterproof, or at least water-resistant. Despite whatever unease she might be feeling at the moment, though, Yuna is her usual sunny, smiling self, waving to people, greeting them by name more often than not. Even if things have been unpleasant at one point or another, she clearly deems grudges a waste of time and energy right now. (Finna's antics might be drawing a bit of an askance look, but that's about it.) 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' No Man inclines his head politely to everyone as they arrive. Atalanta gets a weird look, but it's difficult to tell what sort with his oddly unreflective eyes. He also offers wine to anyone who hasn't proven they can already breathe underwater. Like before, it's somewhat sweet, burns a little going down, and gives the strong and striking sensation of being held in a loving embrace on a quiet night. It makes people daydream instead of drunk. Weird. "Ah, miss," No Man says, smiling up at Sarracenia, "they go to pay the toll of the Threshold's Toil. He is under the lake. I'm certain they would be happy to show you the way." He offers up a cup. "But if you cannot draw breath from the waters of the lake, may I recommend you partake? My mistress offers it with her compliments to any who aid her in this endeavor." "And, if you prefer," he adds, gesturing with one hand at the dinghy, "my compatriots can ferry you onto the lake itself."     SMASH CUT TO: THE LAKE ITSELF The water is warmer today than it was before. That's probably nice. The cave is at the bottom. The boat drops off anyone who doesn't particularly want to swim the whole way right above it, giving you a look at a beast's head laid out in profile with huge stone slabs on the lakebed. The entrance to the cave itself is in a black gap where the eye should be, dipping downwards into a ravine and accessible through the side of it. A voice issues forth, the same as before, sounding to the ear like an innumerable number of quivering stringed instruments building to a deep, growling harmony: "WHO GOES? WHO COMES? CROSS THE THRESHOLD IF YOU WISH. BUT PAY THE TOLL! PAY THE TOLL, ELSE I MUST CARVE IT FROM YOUR FLESH." Kinvat does not sound particularly angry, just... stern. None of the metal wires August saw last time are visible, and the bridge is no longer sunk into the silt at the bottom of the ravine. To present the toll, you must have to actually go inside the cave... ...which is a lot bigger on the inside than one might expect. Swimming into the cave finds it curve upwards to an air pocket, and opens to a ledge near the ceiling that overlooks a huge cavern. Inside is a chamber lit by green-flame sconces, with a high ceiling supported by pillars of stone spiralled like nautilus shells that seem to have been grown out of the ground. Dozens of smaller plinths of the same style are set in clusters against the far walls. Some of them are occupied by odd objects, from strange, meaningless trinkets to objects of art and value. Many, though, bear nearly-identical open topped clay vessels instead. There's also skeletons. Lots of them. The vast majority are human, with clean white bones slumped at the base of many of the plinths. Some wear old, decaying armor or rotting clothes. Others are missing bones or otherwise damaged. Unlike in many places like this, they do not immediately rise up to attack you. There are stairs down to the smooth, sculpted stone floor which glitters throughout the chamber. Closer inspection finds the floor to be inlaid with tiny, delicate characters in perfect, gleaming gold from one side of the room to the other. Kinvat is not immediately visible. There's a distinct feeling that you're being watched. 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     What Eve's decided to bring, well, that's a curious thing. Eve's true treasure is books, and this quest is a highly literary one. She can't bring a book however. It'd be ruined, and she's not interested in ruining a book even if it's to pay off a demonic beast! No, she has another means to bring literature. They're trying to get into hell, more or less. Malfeas, the realm of the dead, or however it's called in any number of legends and myths. Call it the Underworld for simplicity. There's a host of legends about heroes making their way into the Underworld. The fee to cross over, to pass the guardian dog-like thing, is well known. Well, at least there's one payment common to a number of legends through a number of worlds.     Eve might not know what this beast in particular is looking for, but that's not really the point. The point is to pick something significant to herself. That means an answer from legends and stories. She's probably mixing a few metaphors here. The demon wolf beast isn't the three-headed dog guarding Hades' realm. It isn't the ferryman offering passage over the river Styx. But when it comes to tolls for entering the underworld, a number of stories agree. You need two coins to pay the toll.     Eve swims into the cave, then out and to the ledge in the cavern. Her nanomachine mermaid tail fades in a faint shimmer of electric blue, as does her bikini top and apparently her skin as well, revealing her dry sundress underneath. She pauses, looking around the cavern, then shrugs slightly.     With bold intent and little time to consider, she approaches a plinth. She accepts at face value that nothing here will harm her, so long as she intends to pay a suitable toll. With a straightforward mein she holds out her hand, depositing two small silver coins of little monetary value on a plinth. As per the myths. Two coins to pay for passage into the realm of the underworld. It's cheap and quite possibly something she picked up off the street, but to her it's significant. It's a solution of logic and literature, both things she values quite highly. It's also a solution of myth, of metaphor, and of peace. She doesn't explain her offering however. She remains silent, merely standing there with an intent and somewhat challenging demeanor, trusting the beast to understand... or perhaps to somehow read her intent. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang takes the drink, quaffing it in one knocked back go, then strides out into the water, ducking beneath the surface and beginning to trek to the gatekeeper's lair. She dives down, down further, her hair streaming behind her like some strange sea creature. She enters the cave, and finds the skeletons and the plinths. "I'm gonna take a wild stab in the dark and say these bones belong to those who couldn't pay the toll, yeah?" she says to the 'empty' air, hauling herself up to one of the nearby plinths that isn't occupied.     She reaches in, pulling the containment vessel from the satchel, showing a deep purple Dust Crystal suspended within. "Gravity Dust. It's the same type that lets my weapon compact into its standby form without damaging the mechanisms." she explains. "Without it, I wouldn't have my weapon, or my way of life." she places the entire vessel onto the plinth... then waits. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Atalanta swigs the drink, Atalanta boards the ferry, Atalanta hates you, you, and especially you, and /really/ hates this.      Underwater is an actual pain, Atalanta slowly moving towards a empty plinth. She sighs deeply, before rolling her hair-and lion mane gift up into a tight bundle, reaching over her back and-- pulling the string off of Tauropolos.      Using the waxed string, she ties the bundle up neatly, leaving it on the plinth. Aside from just offering up August, it's the best thing /she/ can thing off...      ... hopefully it'll work. 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' Much like last time, Yuna doesn't bother with the wine, or with the dinghy either; she walks out to the water's edge and shifts into Marine Form, electing to swim in her mermaid-styled armor.. And again, Elner sticks with her - although this time, Jiina and Erina fly along near the boat. Upon entering the air-breathing part of the cave, Yuna's armor reverts to her basic Light Suit, Marina re-assembling next to her. Yuna takes a moment to look around the cave, almost regretting the decision to do so ... but this *is* where they need to be at this point, so it's not like she can let herself get creeped out to the point of fleeing. This does not stop her from getting creeped out. And it shows. After a moment's discomfort, though, the blonde idol/magical girl/space paladin walks over to one of the plinths, unzipping the bag she was carrying and taking out a CD. Not just the disc, but the still-wrapped jewelcase; even without looking closely, Yuna's picture is pretty evident on the front cover - and rather than the Light Suit, the cover-photo Yuna is wearing a cute, slightly frilly dress, posed as if the photographer caught her in the middle of a dance. The still-sealed CD is placed on the plinth, gently, even respectfully - not so much respect for the CD as for the toll it represents, and the one (demon or not) who'll be collecting it. It's both an object of some financial value, and a representation of who Yuna is and what she does .... not as the Savior of Light, per se, but in her primary career as an idol singer. Then again, Yuna being who she *is*, her heart shines through whether she's singing or fighting - or whether she's trying to stop a fight by singing (which she's also done). 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia takes the offered drink, gives it a sniff, then takes a polite drink before handing it back. "Thank you." she says, then boards the boat. She is not going to swim a great distance in this dress! When greeted Sarracenia returns the greetings with a smile and a wave. "If any of you would like, I can provide an easy way down to the cave!" she calls to the others.      Over the cave, she reaches into her purse and pulls out...a rubber frog? At least, that's what it looks like. But, when she squeezes it, it explodes in white smoke. When the smoke clears a few moments later, she is in a green frog suit! It's a green wetsuit with built in flippers and a cute green cap with frog eyes on top. She leaps over the side of the boat, flying pretty far into the air before diving down gracefully. With a small splash she plummets toward the bottom of the lake and into the cave. She lands inside, still in her frog suit, then ends up hopping like a frog as she heads deeper inside. She doesn't seem to realize she is doing it, or at least doesn't act like it is an unusual thing to do. Anyone else who had taken up her offer of a frog suit would find it similarly compulsory to hop like a frog. "So...something valuable to me..." she says quietly as she hops along.      Sarracenia watches the others present their gifts, Sarracenia wonders what she has of value to offer. She has money of course, but implications were that money may not be the type of valuable the demon is looking for. So, Sarracenia stands up and in a puff of smoke she is back in her billowing red dress. She is really trying to ignore all those skeletons. She hasn't really looked around, just followed the others. She reaches into her bag again and pulls out...a Bob-omb plush. She gives it a firm squeeze and a little kiss, then places it on the plinth with the other offerings. Or...at least tries to. It takes her a minute to actually leave it there. She is obviously not used to giving things away, much less things that are precious to her. "This is Bomby. He has been my faithful friend since I was little. S-so...you had better treat him well!"      The princess actually has a few tears slide down her cheeks as she slowly backs away. It may not make sense to the others here, but Sarracenia really seems to be having some difficulty. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty once more accepts the drink, the underwater breathing buff appearing in his view. This time he also accepts the transportation out onto the lake, at which points he jumps off the boat into the water with a splash.     Rising out of the water and into the cave, Krusty runs a hand through his hair to settle it in some form of neatness. Glancing around at the sight of the skeletons, Krusty is reminded of some dungeon environments. He wasn't exactly prepared for combat with undead... But thankfully it doesn't seem to come to that at this moment.     Seeing the others offering their tolls, he brings up his inventory again... He'd been pondering what to offer on the entire trip here. And now that he stands in the cavern, great risk if he chooses wrong if the skeletons are any indication... There's really only one choice. Reluctant as he is, his finger hovers of the title of the item, 'Tear of Silune'. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he recalls. Normally a meaningless vendor item, this particular object was a treasure from his guild's very first dungeon raid. Twelve hours straight of dungeon crawling and boss fighting with people who would eventually become trusted guild members...     Krusty presses his finger forward. There's a small flash of light as the glimmering jemstone enclosed in gold manifests in front of him, gently falling into his hand. No hesitation. This must be done. Krusty quickly places the item into plinth and then turns away, "Time to move on." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna does NOT imbibe of the Great Mother's gifts. She just dives right into the lake when the others are, growing gills and fins and mermaid-kicking her way down into the cave with the others...     She has already decided on her toll, but upon entering the air pocket... Finna erupts from the waters, sails a good twenty feet through the air---     And lands on all fours, now a fuzzy white fox...     And she RAPIDSHAKES all the water from her coat. Why she chose to shift like this is anyone's guess... but upon seeing the skeletons laying about, she chooses to go investigate the skeletons and see if any of them have anything particularly SHINY that Kinvat didn't enshrine. Any money or perhaps fine weapons.     She also attempts to CAREFULLY peek into the clay pots, already with half an idea of what grisly things might be in them.     As much as she WANTS TO snatch things from this BOTHERSOME DEVIL, she is, for the moment, clamping down on the urge. If only out of fear of both the demon and angering her allies. How long she can subdue that desire remains to be seen...     "What do you DO with all this stuff anyways, Demon? Nice art gallery here, skeletons aside, but you can't get many visitors down here!" She can't help but rib the creature a little bit, as she seeks out one of the empty plinths.     And upon reaching it, once again assumes human form. In her hand she bears... a single canine tooth.     "Among my people, it is customary to take a trophy from your first kill as a hunter. I'm loathe to part with it in a forsaken shrine under a lake..."     But she gently places it down on the plinth. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The chamber is warm, and humid, with an occasional hot breeze coming from nowhere. It's like standing in the mouth of some great beast rather than being in an underwater cave. At least it'll cool down once you get back in the water again on the way out. Closer inspection of the skeletons finds little of particular value left on them. Finna does spot one carrying a curved dagger with a handle inlaid with silver, though. Something stirs. There's a sound like the scrape of a blade across stone. A black vertical line rises from the miniscule gap between the stones in the floor. It bends, and it makes a sound like a stringed instrument being plucked when it does. It does it again, and again, faster and faster, the line growing longer and more twisted with every heartbeat. Eventually, it stops. It resembles a large man with the head of a hound rendered in intricate black wireframe. Four eye-sockets are set into its head, two just above the usual pair you'd expect, all of them great brass orbs instead of actual eyeballs. The upper on the left side is missing. They weren't there a moment ago, but when it made a motion like blinking, they suddenly appeared. "I am Kinvat." The creature's voice is less booming and harsh. It still has a strangely orchestral quality to it, like instruments being tuned and tested, but it isn't the bone-rattling scale it seemed to be in the lake. "You seek the Bridge. What have you brought me?" He turns. He's suddenly amidst the plinths, examining each. He looks to the coins, and then to Eve, his head tilted. "The Bridge does not go to the underworld. It may yet go to your death. But I understand why it is this." He touches them gently. "It is... clever. I like clever." Kinvat lifts his hand away from the plinth. "Acceptable." Kinvat turns to Yang. He looks at her from a short distance away, and then addresses her from the opposite side of the plinth she stands at. "They paid the toll in flesh." He lifts one wire-wrought hand with a chorus of spidery plucking sounds and gestures at the nearest clay vessel, an armored skeleton seated at its base. "They are permitted passage." He looks the containment unit up and down. The wire effigy bends over to examine the crystal more closely. "Men and women like you would always find a way to live as you do. Do not hinge your existence on something that is not a part of you." He narrows his eyes. The effect is like many-layered shutters sliding into place instead of actual lids closing. "But I have never seen its like, and thus, it is acceptable." There's another twinge of sound. He's now leaning forward to examine the CD. Kinvat eyes it, and then Yuna. He makes a low, ponderous rumbling noise. "You will find the song in your heart to serve you well on the far side of the Bridge. Do not miss a note. Do not anger the Dancer." He straightens, nods. "Acceptable." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' "Do you make demands of one such as I," Kinvat asks Sarracenia, suddenly looming over her, "while visitor within my own domain?" He reaches out without looking and plucks the Bob-omb plush off the plinth, holding it up in a firm grip. His wire-wrought fingers seem to tighten -- and then he releases it very slowly, putting it back where it was lain and carefully arranging it in the center. "It will be kept with care for as long as it is needed here," the demon says, oddly gently. "It is an acceptable toll." A flicker. A finger plucking a string. Kinvat stands across from Krusty. He stares at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. He inclines his head very slightly, and then steps past him to the plinth. One hand brushes the Tear. "A memory shared is not a memory lost," he says. "Acceptable." Finna does not get instantly shifted to. Kinvat strides across the chamber instead. The demon's feet lift off the floor, and the wires connecting it to the ground are briefly visible. It moves like it was suspended above a track rather than walking free. It gives her a chance to look into one of the pots, where she finds exactly what she'd expect: chunks of human flesh. It looks freshly butchered, despite the obvious age of the skeleton at the base of the plinth. It's easy to pick out that all the skeletons rest beneath clay vessels now, though not all the vessels have skeletons. "I guard them from would-be /thieves/," Kinvat says, a bit of a stringed hiss in his voice, "and keep them for when next you may need passage over a threshold bearing my mark. Do you think this a passing fancy?" He circles the Lunar for a moment, and then examines her offering. Gruffly, he barks, "Acceptable," and moves on. Which is about when things get less pleasant. The sound he makes is a dischordant screech of a string section going apeshit. He jumps from one side of the room to the other, facing Atalanta and her bundle. His eyes are wide, the surface of the brass orbs rippling and roiling like waves in a violent sea. His voice gains that previous /mass/, his words carrying physical pressure that makes the room seem to vibrate around you. Jagged black lines snap upwards from between stones in the floor, rapidly diminishing the space there is to stand by way of fields of asymmetrical spikes. "IS THIS A FOOL'S TOLL OR A FOOL'S INSULT?!" Kinvat demands. "DO YOU MOCK ME?! DO YOU THINK ME ONE OF THOSE PATHETIC CREATURES SET TO GUARD THE GATES OF THE TRAITORS' CITY, TO BE DISREGARDED AND DEGRADED WHENEVER YOU SO PLEASE?!" Uh oh. 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     Eve likes clever far more than she likes fighting, and so she's pleased by Kinvat's response. Her smile, however, is minimal. Just a tiny tightening of the corners of her lips replacing a normally impassive manner. She's like a cat trying not to show how much it enjoys getting petted.     As the demon goes through the rest, she nods slightly at each. Seems they'll be fine, everyone giving something meaningful and the beast respecting the thought and sacrifice made for each. Until Archer that is. EVE thought it was meaningful but Kinvat, it seems, disagrees.     The little blonde literaturist acts immediately, seemingly without pause for thought. Her arms come up abruptly, crossed as if in warding, then flash down to her sides. At the motion, a bright chime of steel on steel rings out. She's not as unarmed as she appears, as her arms spout thick blades longer than her forearms and almost as broad.     Eve doesn't attack however. She maintains the posture, using the weapon 'draw' to merely get attention. "Can't you see how much of a sacrifice she made just to get down here?" the little blonde snaps out sharply. Seems Eve WAS paying attention all this time. 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' A piece of Yuna wonders, as Kinvat manifests, whether he's a construct or something - although he is still quite definitely a person, as well as being plausibly a demon. These are not mutually-exclusive categories in Yuna's book; neither is the fact that his mere presencei n the chamber sets her on edge like nobody's business. But as uneasy as Yuna is, she maintains a non-hostile demeanor, watching Kinvat evaluate the various offered tolls, and inclining her head politely when he passes a favorable judgment on hers. Plus the 'advice' he gives her - although she finds herself wondering exactly which song Kinvat *means*. She wasn't actively thinking of a particular song ... Then he gets to Atalanta, and all hell threatens to break loose - the tension up-shifting violently enough that the Matrix Divider appears in her hand *without* her consciously choosing for it to appear. A brief glance downwards, and the weapon is dismissed ... although she mutters, "Shugoseiheki," and summons her kite shield instead - this time as a conscious invocation. "Atalanta is bonded to the young man who paid his toll on his previous visit," Yuna tries to explain to the demon. "And we didn't have a lot to go on when you told us we'd need to pay a toll. If you take exception to her offering, you take exception to more than just her, despite saying our other tolls are acceptable in your eyes." Her left arm, the one which bears the shield, tenses up further, her fingers shifting around the handle - gripping it tighter, ready to brace it. If this is about ot come down to a fight anyway, she'll regret it - but she plans to make Kinvat regret it a LOT more pointedly if the demon forces the issue. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Ahhh...." Finna's eyed that dagger! But She's back up and about to perform the toll, clearly not holding any jeweled daggers.     The call of 'thieves' gets a shameless grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye, even as her grin turns a little feral. But no, she made her toll, and it was declared acceptable!     "OWWWWWW--"     Though the screaming gets her ears ringing and teeth grinding.     She purses her lips, and looks Atalanta up and down...     She's pondering whether she should take this opportunity to stab the demon in the back while it's angry and off-balance, or reason with it. And the choice is looking pretty coinflippy!     "I take a deal seriously, so if the toll is accepted, the deal is done. But I also have a duty to safeguard my allies' passage through Creation. Let's keep the exchange peaceful, hm? What upsets you so?" 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      When it comes to her turn, Sarracenia flinches in surprise when Kinvat is suddenly right in front of her but she doesn't back down. She is about to yell back at him until...he suddenly softens and sets Bomby down. She softens as well, a bit confused but glad that Bomby wasn't hurt and is acceptable. She smiles to the wireframe demon and bows politely. "Thank you." she says, then watches the rest of the reactions.      Seems like it is going well right up until Kinvat goes after Atalanta. She blinks at the unexpected reaction, then tries to get a better look at the offering. When she realizes what it is she takes a step back. "The skin of a lion and the string of the bow that I can only presume felled him? She gives you a most difficult prize and the most important piece of a hunter's tools, and you accuse her of disrespect?!" 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      "I give you of lion, of my mane and of that of which I am! I snapped the bow of my weapon, to hold them together! You have me wrapped up, in a string!" Atalanta is angry, she's upset, and she's tired. She hates this, she hates being /stuck/ here.      Atalanta furiously throws the curved wood that makes up the rest of her bow on top of the pile. "I already died once in my determination to give everything to the rest of the world, I don't have anything else to give!" 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Things appeared to be going well... Until suddenly they weren't.     As Kinvat begins to verbally unleash hell at Atalanta, Krusty remains visibly calm. Unlike some of the others, he doesn't draw his weapon in objection to the treatment of their fellow Watchman. For a being like this, it would probably be a hollow gesture.     As the others attempt to reason with the so called demon, Krusty remains quiet as he studies Kinvat. He's not entirely convinced that what's happening is as straightforward as it appears, so he's watching carefully, trying to discern if there might be something else at play here. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Kinvat apparently disagrees with Eve's assessment. He turns towards her for a moment, layered wires peeling back from the jagged maw that must be his impression of teeth. He stares at her for a long, long moment -- -- and then twists around towards Yuna instead. "His toll," he says, voice still full of disharmonious twists, arm outstretched towards a plinth bearing the very same currency flung into the ravine, "has been paid. /Hers/ is an /insult/. An /insult/!" Krusty can see that this is exactly the case: he's been insulted. Everything about him screams 'enormous faux pas.' Atalanta might as well have pissed in the soup at dinner for the kind of reaction she's getting. He can also tell that he doesn't look like he's turned hostile yet... but that the area around them is very clearly reacting to his mood. The jagged, shifting shapes appearing between stones in the floor... they look a lot like the teeth in his mouth, and you're all standing between them. This may be why he is apparently unmoved by the suggestions of violence. 'Home field advantage' does not properly sum it up. You might as well be in his mouth already. Kinvat faces Atalanta again. He bends down, the face of the metal effigy practically touching hers. Nostrils flare with a sound like a scraping of knives. "You claim you have passed," he growls, "yet you stand before me. You claim you give all, yet you yourself are intact." He gestures at the bundle. "These bear the marks of power and skill. They are of /you/, yes? They are what you /are/." A gust of warm, wet air rolls through the cavern, making the green flames illuminating it flicker and waver. "You are no god. You are no spirit of this world, or mine." "What," he growls, "/are/ you?" 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     While Eve's principles are firm and her thinking rather quick, she completely lacks the reference frame to deal with Kinvat. She can't figure out why exactly he's reacting the way he is, what his power might be, or how to appease him. The place-demon, however, isn't attacking. Yet.     She might be a bit worried at being within his place of power, but not THAT worried. Eve's ready and willing to cut her way out even from inside the belly of the beast... if that's the only way possible. She'd rather not, of course. She doesn't mind violence, but also doesn't hold with holding a being's nature against them. It's compelled to be here, to guard, and perhaps some other things. If there's a way past this that doesn't involve fighting, so much the better. Not just for her sake, but for Kinvat's as well. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      "I am a spirit, but you are correct. I come not from this world, so I have erred. I am a lion; I was cursed to be one, and died as one, so I bear its' marks with me now." Atalanta says, quietly. "I am what is called a 'Heroic Spirit', someone who made such a strong mark on my world, that had such a strength of will, that I was drawn to a special place, to be called on as a 'Servant', in a fight for a holy relic, that if I win, grants me a wish. If I am 'killed' - not that I really can be, once I pass I go back to that special place- or if my 'master', the person that calls me, dies, I also return."      "I am sorry, for erring in the way that I did. I did not know." Atalanta's sincerity, as well as the fact that she is absolutely truthful in her words, make her a humble figure. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      It isn't until those shapes start shifting about that Sarracenia gets any sort of inkling just how much danger they might be in. Her eyes widen at the tooth-like outlines. Can they even fight this thing if they have to? With a bit of explanation as to what might be the problem and Atalanta apologizing Sarracenia calms down as well. Still on edge, but it seems like they have no choice but to hope the demon will accept the apology...and not take the price out of Atalanta's hide. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     As a Lunar, Finna's used to being in some pretty freakishly dangerous situations... but with the area shifting not so subtly, she has to rank this as one of he most dangerous! A few beads of worried perspiration roll down her forehead as she glances around, muscles tensing and scenarios running in her head a dozen at a time of ways to get the HELL out of here and grab whoever she can if it goes utterly south.     Half of the predictions aren't getting very far though, hence why she's nervous! 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty remains very still as soon as he realizes exactly where they are. They should probably act rather carefully from this point on. They don't want to risk angering this demon much more than it already is. And thus, Atalanta goes into great detail about what she is.     Krusty places head in one of his hands... This is probably not going to go well. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Kinvat stares down at Atalanta for a long, still moment. The demon settles back on his metal heels. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, the wire-frame lines of his face settling into something more normal (well... for him). He folds his arms and exhales a sound like a growl and a sigh, descending in volume and severity. "You are not from here," he states, "and acted in ignorance, not malice. I forgive your trespass." He points at the pelt. "From others, I would take this to mean I should feast upon their heart's blood. But this..." He touches the bow. The demon lifts it off the pile, gliding fingers down the length of it, knife-like wires gently caressing the weapon. Then, he holds it out to her. "This is not to be offered. You have already rendered it incomplete without the string. That is sufficient." Kinvat looks up. "You may access your prize... but here it will remain." Wires descend from the ceiling. A section of the roof comes apart, peeled open by intricate wireworks. An object is lowered from above, set into the middle of the room. The crazed wireworks, and Kinvat himself, come unwound. They descend back into the gaps in the floor, leaving the place peaceful and calm again... but with the same sense that someone is watching you. The Scarlet Bridge is a work of art. Its wedge-shaped stones are of carnelian polished to a silky sheen; its joins and posts are hammered from blood-red iron. Carvings of leering demonic faces and paeans to the Yozis cover every square inch of rock and metal, curving upward to support the arched roof decorated with angular points. Nearly ten feet wide and almost fifty long, the bridge arches gently up from the floor to end abruptly at the height of its arc, hanging in mid-air without a far half. No doubt about it; this has to be your way in. Now... how do you use it, exactly? 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia lets out a breath of relief as Kinvat accepts the apology and gives them access...to an incomplete bridge? She looks at it skeptically before looking to the others. "A bridge to nowhere?" she asks before making her way toward it. She doesn't start ascending yet, just looks at it and up along it. "Or...will it be like one of the warp gates...?" she wonders to herself. 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' It takes a lot of Yuna's self-control not to draw forth another weapon - and she's actually chiding herself, in the relative privacy of her head, for letting herself freak out enough to 'draw' a weapon in the first place, however reflexively. And she has to *keep* exercising that self-control, right to the hilt, especially when Kinvat gets in her face again. Even if it's just briefly, she is far too keenly aware that he is a demon who's ready to tear a pound of flesh (or more) out of one of her allies - one of her friends, really. And she's not going to let THAT happen. But she doesn't want to be the first one to attack. Even though every fiber of Kinvat's presence, every jangling wire, sets her own nerves on edge, she fights back against her own instincts - and the moment of danger is finally averted as Atalanta explains her offering, and Kinvat accepts it. Tension starts draining back out of Yuna as she hears and sees that, but she doesn't let her guard down until Kinvat's wires filter back into the floor. Of course, by that point she's more focused on the Scarlet Bridge. And regretting it. Well, it *is* a gateway into Creation's counterpart to hell, so she should have expected something like this ... but that doesn't make it any less discomforting to look upon. With Shugoseiheki still mounted on her left arm, Yuna cautiously steps towards the bridge ... And, as if expecting something drastic to happen, firmly places her right foot on the bridge's surface. She doesn't yank it back unless something actually DOES happen, though. 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     Eve headtilts at Atalanta's explanation. Some she knows of course. Some... well, it's interesting hearing a story from the story's own source. She doesn't judge though, she just seems curious.     She's relieved when Kinval accepts it. At that point Eve looks down at her own blade-arm extensions. A little sheepishly, she shakes her head and causes the blades to shatter into a crazy crystalline pattern. The blades break like shards, then like glass, then like snow, progressively finer and finer fragments within a matter of moments until the blades are nothing but dust that disappears into thin air. Well, not thin air exactly. Each fragment divides and separates until each is smaller than dust, smaller than the cells of a human being, and they ride electromagnetic currents back into Eve's body.     At the speed they vanish, it's like Eve's actually /embarrassed/ at having reacted with the seeming threat of violence.     She begins to study the bridge, looking for all the world like she'd never shown the slightest martial intent here. Nope, just a small booky scholar here! One with no clue about what to do with this bridge. She knows stories and she's smart, but there's thousands of bridges in stories with no clue about what this one's supposed to do exactly. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty is proven correct to have not drawn his weapon... Thankfully. Otherwise that might have been embarassing. But all's well that ends well. Now that just have a bridge to deal with... It's a rather impressive sight, even with the somewhat ominous demonic carvings. Of course, this kind of thing is way outside his area of expertise. And quick glances suggest none of the others really know what to do next...     Krusty hmmms and suggests, "I suggest we leave for now and discuss the next step in a more appropriate setting." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' At least some of the demon faces are cool looking. A couple are even pretty. Stepping onto the bridge... ...causes nothing in particular to happen. It seems very sturdy; very well-built. Despite having been buried at the bottom of a lake for who knows how long, it looks like it hasn't been touched by age or the elements. Ascending to the top finds no change in the bridge's status. The apex of it just abruptly cuts off, like it had been sliced in half. Sticking things through the gap puts them into empty air. Examining it with any sort of magical senses gives an impression of emptiness... ...and then, very abruptly, of a presence of thrumming power. It doesn't seem to change anything at first, but the bridge itself just /feels/ more alive, like it was waking up from a long dormancy. There's an almost electrical tingling in the air for a span of seconds -- and then blue fire wreathes the empty archway, filling the end of the bridge with a sudden heatless blaze. A young woman steps through, clad in a red dress covered in asymmetrical brass ornamentation. Her hair is long, black, and bears tiny brass bells that ring with each step. Her hands are covered in long black leather gloves, and a reddish veil falls over the upper half of her face, covering her eyes. "Ah! Perfect!" Empty Tidings exclaims. She strides down the bridge. The sound of the demon reacting and reforming echoes through the cavern. When Tidings reaches the floor, she makes a precise sweeping motion with both hands in front of her, and then ducks down and touches the ground. All the intricate little golden characters in the floor take on a hazy green tint. The demon withdraws back to wherever it hides. She stands up straight and smooths her dress, smiling brightly. A disc of utter blackness rests on her brow, painful darkness visible even through the veil. "Who wants dinner?" she asks. "I'm /starving/." 
}}

5757/Oh You Can Go Straight To Hell

2018-03-24T23:06:50Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/03/24 |Location=An-Teng, Creation-999 |Synopsis=The Watch looks for a way into Malfeas and finds the best path is already blocked. |Cast of Ch..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/03/24
|Location=An-Teng, Creation-999
|Synopsis=The Watch looks for a way into Malfeas and finds the best path is already blocked.
|Cast of Characters=1151, 894, 385, 215, 906, 513, 857, 1149, 1138
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Empty Tidings wants to pay the Watch back for helping get her out of a bad spot. Her proposition: build a new, secure, terribly comfortable place for them to operate out of... ...in Hell. Well, Malfeas. It's still technically Hell, but it's not the same /kind/ of Hell. That counts for something, right? She says it'll be just fine. Trust your allies, everyone, and you'll be A-OK! The problem is that getting there is apparently a huge hassle. It involves going through an endless desert for nearly a week while dealing with all the problems one might expect from tromping around in there, then getting into the city itself, then traversing the apparently endless layers of the place to find the right spot... Basically, enough problems that another way in and out had to be found. Which is why you're here. Apparently, she's found a way in. Thousand Dragons Lake is an enormous body of water abutting the foothills and mountains that lie along the southeast of An-Teng, a coastal province in the South of Creation. It's fed by at least four major rivers coming out of the mountains, and empties to the west in the River of Queens, a wondrous lifeline through the heart of the province. During the day, it's a beautiful sight, with golden sunshine glittering off the wide, blue expanse. There is a meeting place along the south shore of the lake. At this meeting place, there is a low table set out along a secluded stretch of beach. On this table, there is a full wine bottle marked in odd, flowing script and ringed with small cups. Kneeling behind it is a lean robed man with waist-length black hair and a cold, pallid complexion. A parasol keeps the sun off of him. Empty Tidings is nowhere to be found. She's supposed to be handling things on the other side. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August Kohler is not in a good mood. He is in a very, very poor mood. The redhead's expression is cold instead of his usual neutral-kind of apathetic, and he's wearing a vest, a pistol on his side, a knife across from it, and a mirrored bracelet on his wrist, slightly cracked. His right hand is scarred, old burns having left a nasty impression that covers the entire hand but doesn't seem to hinder functionality much. Having come from the warpgate, August heads towards the meeting place, stopping near the table and taking a glance at the man, a glance at the wine bottle, and then taking a seat across from him at one end of the table. "August Kohler. You must be a contact of Empty Tiding's. Tell us what we need to do." His voice is snappish, frustrated. It's definitely not normal for the redhead, who looks like he hasn't slept whatsoever. He keeps fidgeting with his bracelet, anxious. He's probably not the best diplomat for tonight. 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' This is probably still a terrible idea. Particularly according to Elner. But even the robo-faerie can't really argue the point that a hideout in Malfeas would be one of the best places for the Watch to set up a secret base; they might not have to be all that active locally (or maybe they would - that's one thing Yuna's not sure of), and it might not be the most convenient place, but seriously - who would go looking for the Watch in the depths of Creation's analog to Hell? Yuna certainly wouldn't, which is a big chunk of why she's on board with this plan. She has her own discomfort with the idea, of course, but she *is* a member of the Watch, even if she's occasionally in disagreement with her fellows - which is actually another part of what brings her here: wanting to pitch in some support on the back end, so to speak. Still, there isn't much sign of Yuna approaching ... at least not until an armored mermaid shape launches out of the lake, doing a lazy mid-air somersault before the mermaid's form seems to come apart. Yuna lands on her feet by the lake's edge, with Marina reassembling behind her; Elner, Jiina, and Erina are somewhat more subdued about emerging from the water, the robo-faerie taking up a spot by Yuna's shoulder and the three human-sized androids settling into place behind the battlesuited blonde, as Yuna walks over to the table, August, and the gentleman who's apparently here waiting for them. ... either that, or he picked one heck of a coincidental spot for a private picnic. "Good day to you, sir," Yuna says politely to the robed man as she bows formally to him. Then, rather less formally, "Hey August," as she straightens up again. "We the first ones here?" 

:'''{{#var:215|Iria (215)}} has posed:''' For Iria, the need to be paid back doesn't always seem to matter for her. She may be a bounty hunter, yes, but it's not just about the bounty that she works hard for. Sometimes, she wants to be able to perform a task because she wants to do the right thing. The payment isn't always the only thing that matters. She wasn't directly involved with the whole thing that Empty Tidings was in, but she is part of the Watch and she figures she should come see what's giong on here. And who cares if it's in Hell? Iria's been through there and back many times. Getting there might be difficult for some, but not for Iria. Her Deppendai, a glider which has an umbrella shaped device on top that acts as a propeller and can either be operated from a sitting position or with the operator in a prone position like a super-fast hang glider, allows her to get there quickly. Namely since she's using the glider mode, since she's rather intent on getting there as quickly as she can. Not long after August comes out of the warpgate, Iria comes flying through as well, going at a rather fast rate of speed. When she finally arrives at the destination, Iria drops to the ground just as Yuna makes her splashing entrance, which results in a slight chuckle and a smile from Iria, before she turns to August and gives him a nod, then turns to face the robed man. Rendering a bounty hunter's salute, Iria says, "Good day." Surprisingly, there's no sarcasm or impatience in her voice, although once she turns the other way, a scowl forms on her face as she lowers her eyes as if thinking about something negative. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! NO! It's... a blonde teen riding a series of explosions from the ends of her fists...     Yang's coming in via a fine Beacon tradition, performing a recreation of the Initiation ceremony, complete with her aviators covering her eyes. She's whooping and giggling on the way down, dipping into the tree canopy, before bursting out. Much slower than the way in, before she rolls out and gets back on solid ground. "Nailed it!" she chirps merrily, taking off her sunglasses and slipping them into a pocket on her jacket. "Yo. I'm here." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna is not so sure about this! Making a Watchtower in a place that features in horror stories told to Creation-born children seems like a TERRIBLE IDEA.     But maybe this person who claims to be able to handle it is worth getting a good sniff of. And if they end up pulling anything...     Well. If that happens... perhaps she'll be able to help get her Watch allies to safety.     Finna is, this day, in her human form, but her senses are sharpened and on the alert. She subtly but frequently scans the horizon and listens and sniffs for any signs that someone might've followed them or is watching.     But she's dressed... quite differently today from her usual skimpy leathers. This time the outfit - still clearly Haslanti in origin - covers her up to the local standards and has a modest amount of styling and decoration, but adapted to the local climate. Clearly meant to be Foreigneter but Spiffy. The necklace of fangs and beads features prominently 'round her neck.     "August, August." She vocally nips at him, walking up from behind and standing at his right. "Manners matter in Creation more than you realize."     Wait wait what, who replaced Finna with some kind of impostor? Since when has she cared about manners? 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     Eve has no real opinion on Malfeas. Not out of ignorance really, so much as of an excess of information. By most accounts it's not a very nice place, but then by most accounts the various people in and around Creation tend to be a bit odd, and their opinions kind of suspect.     Besides, Yuna's involved. That in itself would be reason enough for Eve to decide to participate, even if this wasn't a mission intended for the benefit of the Watch as a whole. One in which they don't have to be divisive. She tends to be wary when murder is on the table, but this seems innocuous enough. And if murder is on the table, well, she can declare herself a vegetarian. Or something. She's not actually one, but bad metaphors sometimes occur even to those well-versed in literature.     Eve makes her way rather pedestrian-like from the warpgate, down the trail, to the meeting point. Once there she says nothing, acknowledges little. Instead she comes up towards Yuna, eyes flickering once to meet hers. Then, shyly, Eve assumes a position, watching Yuna's back. Acting remarkably similar to Yuna's androids, in demeanor if not in actual mechanical qualities. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     The Round Table Alliance representative himself emerges from the wild onto the beach. Krusty brushes some leaves off his uniform, before turning his attention on his surroundings. A rather beautiful sight, which he admires for a few moments. However, that is not why they're here today. Krusty in particularly is just looking for an opportunity to assist the Watch, his new allies. Of course, a little exploring of other worlds is always fun.     Glancing around as the others begin to arrive, Krusty briefly looks over them as he begins to walk up to join them at the table. Of course, the man waiting for them draws the most attention. Judging by the actions of the others, it's not someone they know. Which means some kind of intermediary. However, to those Watch members who are arriving, Krusty does give them a nod in greeting. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      A figure shows up in all her Servant glory. Bow slung across her back, clawed gloves on her hands, Atalanta is quietly behind the group, her gaze square on Augusts' back. Her gaze does not leave him, and her whole personality is tense, jumpy. She deliberately stays feet away from everyone, and her tail is swishing agitatedly behind her. August isn't in a good mood, and she isn't either. Oh dear. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Yang spots someone sitting on a branch high in the trees during her explosive entrance, very briefly. Upon seeing the seated man, she might get the impression that it's his brother up there or something: the same long hair, the same complexion, but watching from a distance. Finna spots another, apparently looking much the same but a bit older, lurking in the underbrush in a prime spot for ambushing anyone coming down the game trail... except he's unarmed, so it would be kind of a crappy ambush, and he let some of you go by without incident. Maybe they're sentries? The man at the table bows to the collected Watch-folk. "That is correct, miss," he says, acknowledging Finna's commentary. "I am called No Man, bound in service to the one called Empty Tidings, and I offer a word of advice beyond what is needed: An-Teng is a place where respect is only offered to those who try to heed her ways." He smiles widely. No Man leans forward. Sunlight crosses his pale features. His eyes are dull, not reflecting the light, standing out with eerie darkness. "Fortunately, I am not from An-Teng." No Man sits upright. "My mistress has found a simpler, safer entrance to the Demon-City for your pleasure. However, the side that connects from Creation is presently... stuck. It is some distance below the surface of Thousand Dragons Lake. Something is preventing it from being moved somewhere more convenient." "Your task is thus: search the lake bed to the west of here for signs of the gateway." He gestures with one hand down the lake shore. "It will appear as part of a red bridge, disconnected from its other half. Once you have found it, free it from whatever keeps it here. If it is an entity that may be reasoned with, I recommend bargaining with it rather than attacking it. Anything capable of holding it where it rests will be puissant indeed." No Man indicates the bottle and the cups. "My mistress indicated you may be unable to easily stay underwater for long enough to accomplish this. She has sent this, with her compliments, to alleviate this problem." He looks to the group, scanning faces with a gentle smile. "Are there any questions?" 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang watches No Man, head tilting curiously. "Yeah, I got one. Who's the guy that looks like you in the trees back there?" she asks, thumbing over her shoulder casually. "I'd guess he's a sentry, but he looks kinda like you." The blonde brawler than eyes the bottle and glasses. "Yeah, I'm not really able to do the whole holding breath thing... I knew a couple of faunus who have to live in water though." 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' "Whatever." August replies to Finna. He seriously does not seem to be in the mood, and probably isn't heeding her advice at all, though he certainly heard it. He listens to the mission, hand sweeping across his face, before he takes a drink. "What kind of thing could theoretically do this, and what would it be capable of if it came to combat?" August's only question, as he drinks the wine. He's not against diplomacy, but he's going to fight his way through this if any entity doesn't take the hint of why they're there. 

:'''{{#var:215|Iria (215)}} has posed:''' By the time No Man has spoken about respect, Iria has turned to face him again and her look is a bit more composed and calm again. What she was angry about is anyone's guess, but it's not like she's going to discuss it right now. There's a lot more important stuff at hand here, especially the mission that they've come here to take care of. And No Man seems to have some important information for them, in that they have to go into the lake to take care of whatever's causing this problem. Which means they're going to be getting their feet wet. The good news is that Iria's armor is waterproof and won't rust the moment she steps into the water. She's also a very capable swimmer. That's the good news. The bad news is that, like most humans, she can't breathe underwater. Sure, she could hold her breath for a few minutes, but that's only if she's swimming close to the surface. Fortunately, it seems No Man has some kind of drink that could alleviate the problem of not being able to breathe underwater. Which seems to bring some relief to Iria, although she's wondering how exactly something like that could even be possible. But now is not the time for questions like that. The only thing on Iria's mind right now is the issue of the mission itself. Surprisingly, she has no questions whatsoever. Instead, she simply nods to No Man and says, "Don't worry, we're gonna take care of this!" A slight smile forms on her face. 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     Fortunately Eve has practiced the ways of water, or at least her own way of water. Travelling through water isn't a problem. Breathing however remains an issue. No matter what her nanomachine talent lets her mimic, she's a mammal not a fish. She's limited to little more than how long she can hold her breath.     She eyes the drink dubiously. No Man's inhumanity doesn't bother her at all, but this drink... alcohol? A potion? It seems a little dubious, and she can't help but note that No Man isn't really giving all that thorough an explanation. Still she's a trusting sort even when intellect suggests she should be pragmatic.     Her eyes narrow at Yang's words, and she looks around intently until she spots the sentry in the trees. Well, this is somewhat dubious. Family resemblance? Clones? Again, she's not in any position to criticize. She does, however, scowl.     After some scowling, Eve gets in line behind August to try some of the wine. Yes she's underage. No she doesn't care. Eve's the littlest adult here, at least in her own opinion. Besides this is a potion, not wine. Probably. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Well after August took his drink, and at the very end of it, does Atalanta partake of this wine. She doesn't keep her green gaze off of him - to be fair, she's not /glaring/ at him, she's just... watching him. Juuuust watching. Like she always does. Cattegrump. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Demon." Finna clucks her tongue, realizing what sort of being she's working with here when No Man introduces himself. Nevertheless she acknowledges the creature's greeting with a hint of a nod.     She listens carefully to the explanation as well, and her thoughts immediately jump to...     "Likely a spirit. A God. Perhaps the God of the lake, or An-Teng. Little else would know of suhc things.. I think. Worth having a look!"     Finna smiles at No Man, shaking her head. She doesn't even bother to undress and simply VAULTS high into the air and down into the lake...     Well, she's not going to have problems underwater, because she mutates gills and shifts her lower body into a scaley fish-half, now strongly resembling a mermaid. Perhaps intentional, perhaps not.     Down she goes, to seek the bridge! 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' "So we're working underwater for this, huh," Yuna muses. "Marina, looks like you're up again. Elner, if something goes drastically wrong -" "- then be ready to teleport you back to the surface before Marine Form breaks down and you wind up unable to escape," the robo-faerie finishes for Yuna. "And looking for half of a bridge ... about how big?" Elner asks No Man. "Big enough for a footpath, or for a large road?" Yuna's already moving back towards the water's edge, but she's listening as closely as she can, Marina sticking close to her - mostly because Yuna will need to transform *back* into her mermaid-like Marine Form. Yuna doesn't actually start their combination until all questions have been answered, and anyone who needs a drink of 'Wine of Underwater Breathing' has gotten it. Once those two things *have* happened, though, Yuna actually jumps out towards the water, Marina going translucent and 'phasing' over her form - And for a brief moment, Yuna's form is suspended in mid-air, initially surrounded by a wireframe of light after Marina's image vanishes. Pieces of armor materialize and begin attaching around Yuna, interlocking with each other and with the Light Suit itself, filling out the wireframe and reconstructing the mermaid-shaped armor which Yuna was in when she first got here. Then gravity reasserts itself, and Yuna splashes into the water, leading the group out and deeper into the lake. Elner flits back out to dive alongside Yuna; Jiina and Erina take to the air, flying out but for now, staying above the surface. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Well, it could be poison. Though if so, Krusty does have some antidote potions on hand. Looking at the offered drink for a moment, he concludes that there's probably a low risk that it's meant to hurt them. So as the others begin to drink, Krusty follows suit, taking his own glass and downing the concoction. It won't be his first time underwater, having been on a few diving trips in his past. But it will be his first while as an Adventurer. And without diving equipment. It should be an interesting experience. Krusty sticks around on the shore briefly to listen to the results of August's questions. Additionally he makes some modifications to his equipment, swipping his finger a few times at an invisible menu. Light briefly glows around him, manifesting into the suit of heavy armour that he usually wears in combat. Though with a few more swipes, Krusty customises the appearance slightly to remove the cape and tunic.     Once their line of questioning is complete, Krusty moves to enter the water. He casually walks through the sand towards the water's edge, beginning to head in. Without hesitation he finds himself completely submerged, the weight of his armour easily outdoing any buoyancy he might have.     Thus, Krusty begins to stroll across the lakebed. First objective: Find the bridge half. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The wine, once poured, has an iridescent sheen to it and is surprisingly bubbly. It's cool to the touch, warm in your mouth, and burns a little going down. It's sweet, but not overpoweringly. Strangely, it also instills an extremely distinct feeling of calm in the imbiber. It brings to life vivid memories and imaginings of being held by a loved one on a peaceful night. It seems like whatever it's made of gets people daydreaming and placid rather than drunk. It's hard to say if it'll work at first... until Krusty gets a buff on his HUD: <Kimbery's Embrace: Waterbreathing (3h59m)> "He is one of mine," No Man assures Yang. "He and others like him are keeping watch. There are demon hunters in the region who have been aggressive about pursuing any trace of perceived darkness, regardless of intention. It's been very..." He looks strained. "...inconvenient. I wish someone would /do/ something about them." No Man turns to August. "That is a very broad question, unfortunately. A god, perhaps," he says, nodding at Finna's similar assessment, "though one much stronger than the likes of myself. One of the Exalted perhaps, though there have been no signs of someone coming and going like that. Their capabilities would vary wildly. If they are underwater, I would assume they would be some sort of sea creature in physical form, but even that is not guaranteed." "A footbridge," he tells Elner. "Nine feet wide and forty-five long. It is very distinct; the craftsmanship is exquisite. You will certainly know it when you see it." No Man smiles back at Iria. "I'm glad. I leave it in your capable hands." UNDERWATER It turns out that the wine does in fact let you breathe underwater. That warm and fuzzy feeling stays the whole time, too. Palpable warmth, it feels like, to go with it. It could be cold down there. The shallows to the west aren't much to speak of. There's some wooden debris stuck in the mud, and plenty of fish in the not-quite-a-sea to catch the attention of the divers. The slope away from shore becomes less gradual, dropping away into the depths. A lack of light is going to become a problem soon, and the wine doesn't do anything about night vision. Below, distantly, there are what looks like shipwrecks down at the bottom, clutched in the old growths of green weeds, with gaps punched in the hulls that lead into darkened interiors. Nearby, a section of ground falls away into a crevasse, with breaks closer to the bottom leading beneath the lake bed. Massive boulders make up something of a forest of toppled stones around the crevasse, a maze to navigate on foot but not too difficult to swim past. 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     After drinking, Eve plods over to the water in a thoughtful silence. She watches Yuna transform, pausing to take it all in. Only after does she act. With a sudden short exhalation, almost a battlecry, Eve leaps into the air. She's agile and a lot stronger than she looks. That, combined with her small size, makes her seem to soar.     Then, in a transformation that's slightly reminiscent of the one she just saw, Eve readies herself for the water. The flash of light from her transformation is much subtler than Yuna's, and more due to reflections of light on metal than actual energy being generated, but there is a faint blue electric glow coming from her skin as she pushes her transformation powers to the limit. Almost too fast to see the change, she becomes a mermaid. Not just growing a fish's tail like Finna does... Eve becomes a full mermaid, her clothes disappearing, leaving her covered only in scales below the waist and a bikini top.     A flip, a splash, and mermaid-Eve is in the water. The confidence-inspiring wine leads her to trust that she can breathe, so she quickly acclimates to the water. And yeah, she's fast. In the water she can swim like ... a mermaid. So it's not difficult for her to flit about and peek at the various things below the surface. Mostly the shipwrecks for now, as she waits for the slower people to arrive. She doesn't want to get too far ahead. 

:'''{{#var:215|Iria (215)}} has posed:''' Iria's not one to tie one on, so having a drink of wine might seem strange for her, especially given she's only seventeen years old, but then again this isn't your typical wine, now is it? The cool-to-warm transition doesn't bother Iria too much, but when it starts going down her throat, she gags a little, feeling the burn almost like she just had a sip of acid or something. Fortunately, it only lasts a minute and then Iria starts to feel a LOT better. She smiles a little, almost like she feels like she's about to fall asleep, until she shakes her head and remembers there's work to be done here. Apparently, this must be what it's like to be able to breathe underwater. "Leave it to us!" Iria says with a grin, before she heads towards the water. Unlike the others who simply choose to walk into the water slowly, Iria gets a running start and then does a forwards somersault into the air, calling out, "CANNONBALL!" Before hitting the water with a splash. Once she's underwater, she gets a feel for just how potent this stuff truly is. Not only is she breathing underwater, but she's still feeling rather warm as well, instead of being chilled to the bone by what should be cold water. Still, she knows that she can't get too cocky right now, as she has a mission to do and is not here for fun and games. She decides to wait for the others to get together and then will plan things from there. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang takes a drink, frowning a bit at the overall 'thing' it does... but she doesn't appear to be dying, and her Aura isn't draining, so there's that. "Right... 'kay. Lets do this I guess." She follows the others into the water, taking a few loping strides before leaping and diving in, her hair flowing behind her like a comet tail. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     SHIPWRECKS! Finna knows they're down here for the bridge, but upon seeing SUNKEN SHIPS she hazards a guess there might be some treasure down there! So she makes a point of swooshing down to them and peering into portholes or through holes in hulls or whatever else she can do to get quick peeks inside to see what might be laying around. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty may not be the fastest of them underwater, considering he's walking his way across the lakebed rather than swimming through the water like a mermaid. However, there is something to be said for slow and steady when doing a search. Plus there are numerous other reasons for why his approach has benefits, but let's not get into that right now.     Krusty passes by the odd sunken wreck here and there, giving them a cursory look but otherwise not paying them much attention. They currently have no reason to believe the bridge they're searching for is connected to the ships in any way.     Of course, as Krusty gets deeper and deeper, light starts to become a bit of an issue. Thankfully he does have something to help with that, drawing a small bottle out from his inventory. And while it takes some interesting maneuvering to apply it underwater, Krusty is able to apply the eyedrops. A fairly common item, it applies another buff to him, granting him better sight within the darkness.     Eventually Krusty reaches the edge of the 'forest' of stones. From his position he can't see what's beyond but it does appear that trying to navigate through would take quite some time. He could probably reduce that with some leaps and bounds to take him over-or simply unequip his armor temporarily to swim-but it probably isn't necessary. Surely the better swimmers can handle that to perform the search. For now Krusty simply walks the edge of the 'forest', continuing to search for any smaller clues that a faster swimmer might miss. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      You know who enters the water last, like she doesn't trust it and this misson worth a damn? If your guess was the 'lion in the livi-- in Creation', you'd be correct! Atalanta's tail is still going agitatedly, her leonine ears flat against her head. She gets up to her knees before there's a low growl that escapes her throat - but there goes August, and, you know... August can't die on her. So she has to watch him. She wades in further to her hips, before abruptly sitting down.      The grumpy lion noises stop.      Then immediately start again.      She sits there, on the floor, arms crossed across her chest. The glower intensifies. Then she starts flailing through the water. (She's not a swimmer. AT all.) 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' "That's good enough for me." August's irritation eases slightly as he drinks. Huh, this stuff is calming. But it doesn't go away entirely, not when he's this angry at himself. As they head into the water, August moves for the best place to dive in, doing so, and realizing he can both breathe and sort of talk down there. Waiting only briefly for the others to group up, he moves to swim towards the forest of toppled stones, joining up with Krusty, who has a light as they get deeper. There's a thumbs up to the warrior, as August moves to swim nearby the maze, trying to see if there seems to be anything around it or more likely inside it, moving to actually swim inside if it seems big enough to hold the bridge or an anchor for the bridge. 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' A bit of discussion on the Watch's tactical band leads to Yuna tapping Eve and Finna to team up with her. Besides, between Yuna's armor and the other two girls' shapeshifting, they pretty much *are* able to mermaids as far as maneuverability goes. The relative lack of light will still be a bit of a problem, although Elner's sensors aren't limited to visible light; the robo-faerie is already scanning with a mix of sonar and more exotic sensors, probably relying more on the latter - they don't want to stir anything up with repeated audible pings, after all. (Or even inaudible ones.) The bridge they're looking for probably isn't going to be among the shipwrecks, although Yuna cruises alongside a few of them just in case there's anything eye-catching. Even if there *is*, though, she'll just make a note of the location with Elner, and see if they can go hunting for it another time. That bridge comes first, and she doesn't want to be laden down with shinies if (or given what No Man said, 'when') they have a fight on their hands. Once Finna and Eve have gotten their fill of looking through the shipwrecks, Yuna leads them towards the labyrinth of fallen stones. By this point, she's conjured the Matrix Divider, and is channeling enough power into her weapon for the blade/barrel to glow fairly brightly, helping to illuminate her surroundings. She's a little worried about the other groups, but most of her attention (what's not devoted to the actual search, at least) is on Eve and Finna as her immediate teammates. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Sensor pings pick up some interesting stuff, but it's hard to make out if you're not used to operating in an environment like this. Identifying what's fish and what's not is a bit of an art. It does tell Elner that the shipwrecks have... /something/ in them that isn't consistent with broken stuff. Peeking inside actually reveals... ...shiny things! Faint shafts of sunlight that come through the broken hull make something glitter inside one of the bigger wrecks. It's hard to make out from outside, but the glittering is pretty treasure-y. There's shapes like the edges of boxes inside, but there's a lot of wreckage, too. It'd take a little effort to look, and a lot more to sift through it all. August and Krusty take the slower route. Approaching the stone slab forest finds two strange things that stand out: first, Krusty spots what looks like a paw print in the mud from a huge creature. If he didn't know better, being underwater and all, he'd think it was some kind of massive dog. Second, August spots marks on the stones that look like uncountable parallel scratches, like dozens of nails had scraped across the surface of the stones all at once. It seems to only be on some of them, leading deeper into the mess of fallen stones. Atalanta is wet and miserable. This hasn't changed, but it seemed like it should be reiterated. 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     Though Eve has many flaws, avarice isn't one of them. She's incessantly curious and the gleam of treasure intrigues her, but they're on a mission. Besides, Yuna indicated the labyrinth of fallen stones. That, in fact, was always more intriguing to the little blonde. She'd just been peering into and around the shipwrecks as an initial step; something she could do without getting out of sight of anyone.     Besides, Yuna has light. Light is good. While Eve can swim like the mermaid she resembles, light is still very much appreciated. Even if her best friend weren't actually directly associated with light, that is.     They don't need to navigate the labyrinth, of course. They're just swimming above it, most likely. Still, Eve studies the course of the thing, mind automatically trying to plot out a route, trying to see if the labyrinth has a significant center or if its destination is something on the other side. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty actually would not discount the possibility of some kind of huge underwater dog type creature, considering how little information he has on the types of animals that might be in this world. Still, the fact that he hasn't seen any yet in his search suggests the find might be something of importance.     Krusty kneels down to take a closer look at the find, his hair slowly drifting in the water. He muffles onto their tactical channel, "Hmmm. A large animal pawprint. Not something you typically see on a lakebed... Perhaps a sign of whatever form the so-called god has taken."     Krusty looks up again as August reports some claw marks found. Visibility is quite difficult at the moment, but Krusty is able to make out August at the edge of the stones. A pawprint... Claw marks... "It might be a lead worth following."     Krusty walks over to join August at the edge of the labyrinth. Briefly examining the claw marks, Krusty nods to August. They're both obviously in agreement that there is now a need to enter the stone maze. 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' With the crevasse below the fallen stones, Yuna has a pretty strong suspicion that they'll need to head further down to investigate its depths - and she isn't especially looking forward to that, but she's here to do what she can, or what she needs to, in order to assist her allies. Still, when August mentions finding those claw marks, Yuna breaks off and swims up so she can get a look at them for herself. Maybe she can get a vague sense of how big the creature that made themt is ... or whether it might be too big to have dived down as far as the crevasse goes? Elner examines them too - not just evaluating how long the claws might have been, but how sharp they might be, how deeply the stone was gouged. Just in case they might need to know. Either way, Yuna's got a much tighter grip on the Matrix Divider now, and is ready to call for her shield as well if she thinks she needs it. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' Well, that's strange. Nail marks? "Hey, found something!" Shouting out, though muffled by the water, August moves to put his fingers to the nails, trying to get an idea of how long they'd have to be. "I'm going in deeper. We might be able to find something, since something's definitely been here." August waits a few moments for the message to take, taking a picture of the marks with his phone (which is luckily waterproof because he adventured in Tellus and couldn't trust anything) before swimming towards the maze, moving to follow the nail strikes. He fidgets with his reflective bracelet, because he's probably going to need it. Krusty backing him up is appreciated, as he moved to finally enter. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Immediately behind August and Krusty, Atalanta pops up. She's wet, upset, and grumpy.      "I don't trust this." She remarks, before swimming slowly after August as he and Krusty deeper in. 

:'''{{#var:215|Iria (215)}} has posed:''' Iria's already not feeling it about this whole thing. It's not the fact that she's actually seeing the fish and aquatic plants up close and personal, hell she'd kill to be able do something like that in her free time without having to worry about resurfacing for air. No, there's something else that's nagging at Iria's sixth sense. Something that tells her they should not be here, even though they have a job to do. Of course, a lack of knowledge of how things work underwater makes it a bit difficult for her, until she hears that August has found something. With Yuna leading, Iria follows close behind. She figures with Yuna having a light, Iria will let her take point and she'll follow close behind. Once she gets there, Iria also takes a good look at the claw marks. "Whatever put those marks there," Iria comments, "I doubt they're friendly." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     After spending some time translating Claw Speak for her allies, Finna decides to MAKE GOOD on why she checked out the shipwrecks at all! She squeezes through the porthole and goes swoosh-kicking her way down the passage. Despite the gloom she knows exactly where she's going, due to excellent nightvision! ... And underwater, for that matter.     STRAIGHT FOR THE SHINIES! 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang kindof loses sight of everyone else, she makes for the one person she's managed to keep track of. Following after Finna is a bit slow for the blonde, she's not exactly hydrodynamic, but she's not a flaily mess of limbs like a certain miserable, wet lion further down. Yang approaches the porthole Finna used, but ends up nearly stuck trying to get through. <Find another way around, there's gotta be a hatch or hull breach somewhere> she thinks to herself, kicking off the hull and tracing along the starboard side, looking for a door or said hull breach. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Examining the labyrinth from above finds that the stones are not laid out in a random pattern at all. The slabs look like they came from some massive stone edifice, dragged or dumped into the lake here. They've been laid out, leaned against one another, to display a sigil from above that resembles a beast's head in profile. The easiest way into the labyrinth from the bottom seems to be where it's 'mouth' is; the crevasse is a dark slit left in place of an eye. Other than the wrecks, there's nothing else around it. The marks look like they've been made by numerous sharp bits dragged across the stone. The gouges are shallow, but they're also in parallel. Close examination makes it look like a lot of narrow, sharp edges had all been raked across it, back and forth, all at once. If it's a beast's, it's massive. If it goes with the paw print... well, there's no plausible way for that to be the case, but if it /does/ it's definitely gigantic. 'Swallow you with one bite' gigantic. Moving deeper into the labyrinth finds it isn't much of a maze at all. The scratches lead down a path that could fit two people shoulder to shoulder, with the occasional branch without scratches leading out of the covered interior. It winds its way around and around... ...to the crevasse. The drop down into it isn't too far. It bends near the bottom, curving. From the very edge, though, something glints in the light: red metalwork, with a finely-wrought face of a grinning demon looking up and out of the crevasse and sticking out of deep silt at the very bottom. Then, a voice comes from below, sounding like innumerable quivering stringed instruments building to a deep, growling harmony: "WHO GOES? WHO COMES? CROSS THE THRESHOLD IF YOU WISH. BUT PAY THE TOLL! PAY THE TOLL, ELSE I MUST CARVE IT FROM YOUR FLESH."     MEANWHILE, AT THE SHIPWRECKS The glimmering is definitely treasure. Finna finds the porthole leads her inside the wreck, and Yang spots a place where the hull is cracked that she can pull herself inside. Both leads to the sideways underbelly of the ship, where toppled, rotted chests are strewn all around. The source of the glimmering is a metallic glint buried in sand. Silver, maybe? There's definitely markings on a couple of sealed containers that look official enough to be carrying loot. Finna gets inside just in time to go for the loot. Yang gets inside just in time to see Finna go for the loot... and to see the enormous crab claw rise silently out of the flotsam, glinting pearlescently in the light as it reaches out to try and crush the Lunar! 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang slides in through the broken hull, only to find Finna going for shinies, and a giant Crab Claw raising up to try and crush her! She sends a warning over radio, then opens fire with her weapon. The normal reports of the shotguns are muted in the water, but instead of fiery bolts or pulses of kinetic force, these shells launch literal bolts of ice! They fly like torpedoes to strike into the crab's outer chitinous shell, hoping to distract the monster so Finna can react. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' "Whatever, it probably is." August responds to Atalanta, grumbling as they follow the labyrinth. When it reaches the creavsse, he sighs, before moving to submerge. And then, they spot it. "The bridge. There it is." And then the voice speaks up. August listens to it, carefully, as he continues to move downwards. "We're here to free the bridge. If what you want is a toll, I'll trade you for it, but we're freeing it one way or another." August doesn't sound like he's open to negotiation, as he reaches down...and pulls out twenty dollars from his wallet, as well as a large amount of coins, dropping them into the crevasse below. He waits, slowly. If he doesn't get a response after a few moments, August straight swims down there, even with the monster. If it's not going to give him something for his money, he's going to get it back, and he's also freeing the bridge one way or another. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna detects that Yang's following her but her eyes are on the prize!     All up until a second before the GIANT CRAB starts to move!     Finna TWISTS through the waters in a freakish way, leaving only her dorsal fin to get snagged by the pincer! Which leaves the rest of her body free!     A half-second of panic transforms into a bubbly snarl through the waters.     She's giving the animal just ONE CHANCE to back off, making it clear through her connection with them in that snarl and bubble stream... and brandishing a hand that's gleaming with silver fingernails sharpened like claws! 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty works his way through the labyrinth along with some of the others. Judging by how some paths are marked and others aren't, it seems like they're being led. And considering the path eventually comes out at the crevase, clearly accessible from above, it's obvious that it wasn't really intended as a defense mechanism. Regardless, it seems they have reached their goal.     As the voice calls out to them, Krusty instinctively goes straight. He's defeated a few demonic beings before, at least back when his world was still a game. He's yet to face one in person. It's a rather sombering experience... That's completely ruined when August proceeds to throw chump change at it. Krusty looks doubtful as he expresses his concern, "... Really? That's the toll you're paying?" He would expect a demon to have a slightly higher price than that... But he guesses they'll see. 

:'''{{#var:385|Yuna Kagurazaka (385)}} has posed:''' The whole point of working out teams was for each team to *stick together*, Yuna grouses to herself as she doubles back. She didn't even realize Finna had gotten sidetracked with treasure-hunting - and while normally, Yuna would be upset about putting treasure over the mission (at least outside of Alfheim Online or something), the fact that whatever's guarding the depths of the crevasse explicitly wants a toll means that the treasure from the ships MIGHT actually be useful for that purpose. Especially if it doesn't take modern currency such as August's offering. Still, the 'labyrinth' has already been solved thanks to Eve getting the right perspective on things - and if anything, it occurs to Yuna that maybe the stones were arranged that way on purpose so that any divers would realize what was hiding down there. Rather than trying to enter the ship through that porthole, Yuna gets Elner to extrapolate where in the ship the crab's (or lobster's, or whatever) main body might be, building up the charge in the Matrix Divider while the robo-faerie scans and analyzes ... and once Elner's figured out where the likely center of mass is, Yuna fires - not so much a bolt as a short-lived concussive *beam* of hard light, aimed to punch right through the ship's *hull* to shoot the giant crustacean that just took a swing at her ally and teammate. 

:'''{{#var:857|Eve (857)}} has posed:'''     Fortunately for Yuna, Eve's sticking fairly close to her. Or perhaps not so fortunately, depending on if Yuna thinks Eve's a worthy companion or if she just needs defending.     Eve glowers at mention of a toll, and watches as August tries a reasonable if modern solution. If this doesn't work, she might have options. "What is the toll?" she asks, then mutters, "And why can't you ask riddles or something?" under her breath. 

:'''{{#var:215|Iria (215)}} has posed:''' Unfortunately, Iria's weapons might not work too well underwater. Wet bullets will misfire, and Iria doesn't want to take that risk. In desparation, she goes for her chain-sword and prepares to attack if need be. Which it looks it might be necessary. Iria attempts to swim towards the crab and stab at it with her solidified sword's blade in hopes of doing at least a little damage. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:'''     THE WRECK It turns out ice is a good play while fighting a sea monster. The crab gets frozen. Parts of it, anyway; it's truly colossal, and it looks like the Ice Dust shots aren't enough to totally encase it. The joint in its claw gets caught, and Finna is left with just enough wiggle room to get away. The ice block starts to crack... A beam of hard light punches through the hull and hits it. Iria follows through the gap, jabbing at the revealed spot and cracking the carapace. The crab staggers, and the giant claw hits the dirt, kicking up a big mass of murky silt and sand. Finna's growl seems to be the last straw, though; it rises out of the muck... and rises... and rises, filling the interior of the shipwreck with its massive, armored form. Then, it starts to very slowly walk away. It lifts the entire upside-down ship up, dragging it along with it. The whole shipwreck up and starts to ploddingly walk away. The treasure, it seems, is going to get swept along with it -- like the ones inside of the wreck. Better get swimming! 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:'''     THE HOLE August tosses money down the hole. Something like a black metal claw comes out and grabs it. It's easily big enough to encompass his whole body. It pulls it back in, and there's a sound that sounds like massive underwater sniffing. He gets down lower... and then August sees it. The demon fills the undersea cave, a mass of blacked wires forged into the shape of a great, vaguely canine head. Four eye-sockets look out at him, two to a side; three are filled with great orbs of brass, while the fourth is conspicuously empty. It grinds jagged wire-teeth together, generating gouts of bubbles from what must be flashes of heat. The wire effigy comes apart beyond its neck and forelegs, spreading out and filling the cave in a lattice of criss-crossed metal. It sinks into the walls and spreads towards the cave mouth, and he can see now that he's inside that he's surrounded on all sides by tiny filaments that jut out of the crevasse's sides and are connected to the demon. If those are what made those marks, then they must be very, very sharp. "THIS IS YOUR TOLL?" The demon rumbles. "VERY WELL -- BUT FOR THIS ALONE YOU WILL NOT HAVE INGRESS TO THE DEMON-CITY." "I AM KINVAT, THE THRESHOLD'S TOIL, HOGO-SHA SA JACINT, THE PRINCE UPON THE TOWER, SA ADORJAN, THE SILENT WIND." The wires in the walls start to snake out. They weave a net underneath August, a dense barrier blocking his reaching the bridge. It builds upwards, forcing him to swim up or face the razor-sharp wire. "THIS EDIFICE IS MY CHARGE. I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO REMOVE IT WHILE I AWAIT THE PROPER TOLL TO BE PAID BY ALL WHO WOULD WALK ITS LENGTH AND BREADTH." The voice rises in volume. "MARK THIS WELL! RETURN WITH A SUITABLE TOLL FOR EACH OF YOUR COMPATRIOTS AND I WILL PERMIT YOU PASSAGE. RETURN WITHOUT, AND THE PRICE MUST BE CARVED FROM YOUR FLESH." The wire-wall reaches the top, covering the crevasse completely in a cap of blackened metal. It's going to take some serious firepower to get in there... or a clever solution. Maybe you should come back after thinking the problem over. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August pulls back as the wire comes underneath him. "He starts to rise quickly as it builds upwards, cursing. "Well, fuck you too!" August almost pulls his bracelet up to his eye, but decides to pull back. They need an idea on this toll, or at the least, a way to actually set the giant horrible wire dog on fire. Maybe lure it out of the sea so he can do that. "Alright, guys, we're retreating for now. We need to coordinate with Empty Tidings on this and how best to fight this thing if it comes down to it." 
}}

5665/Glad Tidings, From Hell

2018-03-18T05:38:41Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/01/23 |Location=An-Teng, Creation-9999 |Synopsis=Empty Tidings is visited by something about as awful as she is. |Cast of Characters=1142, 115..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/01/23
|Location=An-Teng, Creation-9999
|Synopsis=Empty Tidings is visited by something about as awful as she is.
|Cast of Characters=1142, 1151
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     Things in a place of endless death have finally started gaining strength to act outside their domain. There are Powers on the move, influences that seek to gather more such strength to themselves. There are also agents that have long operated in the interests of said Powers, and now fall back into that role once again now that the door is open to them. One such Power moves now, on legs of fire that leave burning frost where they touch. A chill that pierces the flesh with needles of ice, and then consumes the soul from the inside out.     The creature burrows and writhes its way through planes of reality, alternate perceptions of space and time, and then crawls lightning fast down the tunnel to the soul it smells. The one that can give its masters more strength.     The one that tastes like home. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Creation. The world is flat, floating in a sea of bounded/endless chaos that encroaches on all sides. A dome of something unlike glass bounds the vault of the sky. The sun moves across the heavens, descending towards the edge of the sky as it reluctantly allows night to fall on what's left of this huge, beleaguered world. Its radiant glory shines still, and from the edge of Creation, the sun's light casts long shadows as the sky yet dims. And in those shadows... there are /things/. Thousand Dragons Lake rests in An-Teng, an enormous body of water from which the River of Queens flows. The foothills and mountains to its east are darkened; its waters are as placid as it ever can be, scattered with ships that have no idea the depths and secrets the waves hold. Far, far below is the creature's quarry: the powerful soul lingering below the crushing weight of water, burning with an awful fire that even that cannot quench. It's inside, though. The manse is old and forgotten, a collection of curving stone edifices making up arched and elegant lines from a prior age. It's covered in weeds and muck, criss-crossing in a way that obscures it from above and keeps the surface-dwellers ignorant of its existence. Beneath the cruft that hides it, ley lines that thrum with power cross, and a bubble of pristine water pushes out the murk and sediment that seems to rest on its shell. It's wet all the way down. The pure, elemental wellspring keeps the water cool and clean; crystalline objects set into ancient stonework cast light to fumble with, dimly illuminating the interior's wide halls and cavernous chambers. Were one inclined to linger, the statuary and reliefs along the walls and amidst the untended undersea garden would be worth the time to behold. But the soul... Empty Tidings rests within a chamber fashioned after a nautilus shell, a twisting, spiralling tower open at the bottom and filled with crystalline slabs set into nooks on the wall. She reclines against an incongruous hammock tied between stone pillars, black hair and black cloth floating around her in the water like a cloud of ink. One of those slabs is held in her hands, illuminated from within and displaying drifting characters in some ancient language. Whatever it is, she seems to be engrossed in reading it. 

:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     Just some light reading underwater. Nothing stranger going on here. Empty Tidings has no reason to think anything unusual will be happening... No reason to think a dream she may have had means anything in particular. She probably has lots of weird dreams.     Even when something does happen, it can be easily dismissed... At first.     There is a faint sound. Like something scrabbling at rocks. Like some random piece of detritus brushing against the outer shell of the room. It could be anything. After several seconds, it repeats, more insistently.     And closer. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Heavy reading, if we're being honest. It's a history. It's also dreadfully boring. However, it's from an archive that was expunged during the Usurpation, which means there has to be /something/ juicy in it... Something other than church bells and graves. 'Mistress,' hisses a voice in Empty Tidings' head. Three-Part Tragedy, part jailor, part servant, deigns to communicate with the one whose soul she has become affixed to. 'Something comes...!' "I hear it," Empty Tidings murmurs. Her voice carries perfectly in the water. She sets the crystal slate aside, leaving it resting against a segmented pillar, and folds her hands over her stomach. She clears her throat unnecessarily. "I hear you," she says. Her tone is practiced boredom. Inwardly, her heart flutters, a flicker of unease rolling through her. Creatures from the depths have that effect on humans, even when you may as well be one. "Show yourself. Be warned, if I have to get up, I will be /very/ unhappy." 

:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     As if encouraged by, or orienting on the sound of, a human voice, the scratching comes faster, and is joined by the scratching of many other... Things. It stops sounding like scratching and more like digging. Something tunneling its way into the room. But not from outside. From INSIDE.     Cracks appear in the wall, and those cracks expand as the digging comes faster and the excited chittering of indistinct voices starts spilling into the room. The cracks are not cracks that belong to the material of the wall. They are the cracks of long-dried flesh caving under the pressure of something that has nested inside seeking a newew, moister carcass to hide in.     Fingers start pouring out of the wall. Not disembodied ones. They're connected to SOMETHING, but the fingers are just so terribly LONG, and as they start pulling and peeling the walls open like some mad surgeon reopening a wound, it is not the outside that lies on the other side of the wall, but a simple blackness. None of the water in the room empties into it, but it does not seem that water lies on the other side either.     The Wound is spread open wider and wider, until it encompasses most of the wall. Then the voices go quiet, and the sound of metal and slithering flesh replaces them.     Distant, but coming closer.     And then a voice. High and musical. Sweet as untarnishd silver bells. A delight to the ears. And somehow, innately nauseating. "There you are, child. There you are. Not to worry. All will be revealed soon. We are coming."     Some indistinct shape in the blackness is moving. Its outline unidentifiable. Its size unmeasurable. But definiely coming closer.     "We will be there shortly." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The wall cracks, and Empty Tidings is forced to rise. She expects a great, cacophonous boom as the wall comes down. It does not happen. A tear, a Wound, opens instead. She rolls off of the hammock and into the water, drifting as if floating effortlessly in empty air rather than deep underwater. Her hair gathers about her shoulders; her dress settles. She watches, eyes fixed on that spot -- Fingers. She would recognize fingers, even as long as they are. The demon tethered to her soul hisses urgently in her ear, 'These are not the Chrysogonae,' not one of the many-fingered fiends like the one she plays host to. Empty Tidings hears herself breathing fast when the voices fade. She winces. Something in her recoils at the corpse-sweet voice. She drifts backwards without thinking, her back to one of the arched doors at the bottom of the undersea tower. She licks her lips, impossibly dry despite the environs, and makes a simple demand of the intruding presence: "Who are you?" 

:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, bitter sweet child. What a question to ask us. What a question indeed. We are known by many names. The truth of them would burn you to charcoal. But we do not want that, no. Not yet."     The approaching thing is dragging itself on... Maybe-hands. Large, long. Inhuman. Like great spiders on the ends of maybe-wrists, crawling of their own accord as what they're attached to is pulled after them. "But so that you have something to call us by, a common name. A common title that says what we are, but not by too much."     A bit more of it becomes semi-visible with its continuous approach. Its maybe-arms extending up and behind some large v-shape. Hard and rigid, like bone or steel or a blending of both. But is it armor? Its head? Something more arbitrary? Less anatomically distinct? The smell of this thing, even on the water, is like someone trying to mask decay with pungent perfumes and crushed flowers, creating a gagging mixture that does not quite succeed at full covering the tinge of something rotten, and if anything merely highlights that something is being hidden. Something wrong.     Its voice sounding closer to a perhaps unsettling degree from the last time it spoke, it finally identifies itself. "We are what might be called, Corruption." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The smell and shape of the thing is abhorrent. It is a monster through and through, anathema to this world and intruding upon it to do... what, exactly? To terrify? It wouldn't be here if it were preying on the unsuspecting. To feast? It would pick a lesser creature if it had a prayer. The unease she feels is gradually replaced by indignation. A sort of self-righteous anger wells up, overwhelming the nervousness she feels. The part of her already-warped lizard-brain that tells her to flee is quashed by the demonic heel of something vast and terrible. Her breathing becomes more regular. She inhales the scent of an awful funerary stench and finds it comforting in the most appalling way possible. The black-haired young woman draws herself up. A disk of utter blackness manifests on her brow, so dark as to be painful to look upon. Her anima flares, an unholy aura like dark green flames shot through with shades of violet and the purest, most utter blackness. Her shadow splits three ways around her, extending direcfly behind her and ahead of her but to either side, a humanoid shape covered in growing and withering fingers and hands that never cease clawing at the space around itself. None of her shadows are identical or synchronized. "I am called Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris." Her voice is a clarion declaration, her enunciation pronouncing a sin against this world. "Princess of the Green Sun, Champion of Hell, and leal servant of the Ebon Dragon, Shadow of All Things." She presses her hands together... ...and bows, a polite inclination given to a stranger now made familiar. The tension in the air seems to reverberate. Her anima wreathes her like a shroud, wrapping her in the suggestion of peace and civility. It is a sorcerous thing, layers of ancient oaths and bargains from this world laid alongside an emanation that suggests that perhaps coming to blows is not the answer. "You are welcome in this place," she says, "for so long as you uphold the peace of my home... Corruption." 

:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     Corruption hisses between unseen teeth as it slows its approach, recognizing some sort of safe guard in place. Now the room, and Empty Tidings herself, are no longer akin to someone summoning demons without any concept of how to control them, even if, in this circumstance, the summoning is more a forced intrusion than an invitation. There are defenses of some form in place. And it recognizes that, and no longer hurries towards the Wound with foul intentions. So their positions are now a little more equal. The atmosphere is different betwen them. It does not stop its advance.     But its hand-spiders are no longer crawling as fast as they can to reach the space outside of whatever that blackness is.     A glint of wet redness just past the ragged edges of the pale white hand-spiders, and continuing up the maybe-arms, indicates a lack of flesh. Peeled and skinned, but still undiminished.     "Good." Corruption croons, a decaying effect spreading a little from the Wound, making things crumble. Exposing viscera hidden inside the walls, around the edges. "It is good that you did that. It is always important to establish one's position in a negotiation. It is always beneficial to not tempt us by leaving oneself unguarded. The taste of your fear was beginning to become too tempting to resist. We considered leaving the negotiations behind and simply taking you with us. But ah, that is no longer needed. No longer desirable."     It seems to be perhaps ten meters away, inside the Wound. Its size is much greater than the room's. It leans forward over its hands, bringing more of itself into whatever lighting there is. A great steel V-shape, stained and somehow melded or welded to a fleshless head, replacing the upper half of its skull, and leaving inhumanly dense muscle to work a jaw that narrows towards the chin and broadens beneath that shield, lipless mouth and appallingly pristine white teeth in a nightmare face that is a fusion of metal and flesh, forged in some terrible place.     The rest of it, what can be seen, trails out behind it into the black. Serpentine? Worm-like? Or just a mass of skinned flesh, like some cross between a spinal cord and intestines?     "We approach you now with glad news, Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris. Ah, brass. What an ironic, and fortuitous, name you possess! Your soul is alike to those that dwell in one of our bastions. Our places of power. The taste of you is very nostalgic. We have recently come into a windfall of sorts, you see. A great boon that pushes us ever closer to what we seek."     The thing leans closer and closer, hand-spiders crawling again after a brief respite, until that raw mouth, those out-of-place permanently grinning teeth, come just short of passing through the wound. Suffocating breath pouring inside, as the fingers holding the Wound open twitch eagerly with barely-contained need to seek and find and pull into the dark to be strangled and invaded and torn apart forever.     "We think that you can help us achieve this." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Controlling demons is much more complicated, here. It isn't as simple as circles of salt. Empty Tidings prefers to call them to servitude and then twist their will until it nearly snaps. It gets the job done. This, though, is something simpler. Something stronger. Something more... /Primordial/. The architects of this world were instrumental in the creation of this protection, and it is through their unholy might that it still functions. It is as much an aura of power as it is whispers of gladness at her presence... or perhaps murmurs of the terrors that follow wherever she goes. In this instance, is it really different? "I am unaccustomed to being sought in my own residence," she says smoothly. "It would have been unfortunate if I had been forced to defend myself against a potential guest. I am pleased we have come to a sort of equilibrium." Which is to say she was about six seconds from tearing down a twelve-foot pillar and using it like an extremely unfortunate plunger. The inhuman horror of it leaves her largely unmoved. It's notable, certainly, but that sort of terrible visage is, if not commonplace, certainly not /un/common within Malfeas. She wouldn't want to have to go in there after it, wherever 'there' is. She gets the impression that she will need to be on the look-out for demon hunters very shortly because of this intrusion. She makes a mental note about it. "I would be pleased to speak of mutually beneficial arrangements, should they be possible." She smiles. "What is it you seek? And, how may I help you reach it?" 

:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     "What we seek, ultimately, has to wait a little while. We must not get ahead of ourselves. For now, there is information that those who oppose us seek. Information we desire as well. It is stored in a library. A place of pure knowledge, known as the Akashic Records. There are four libraries of this nature, but our enemies only know of three. The Akashic Records, Escher, and the Bibliotheca. Each holds knowledge particular to a type of soul, you see. And only that type of soul can access it. But a fourth library has been built in the deep places, the dark places, where the nightmares of sinners await them in the flesh when they awaken. The icy places, the burning places, where to breathe is to inhale poison fire, and to hold one's breath is to become filled with icy worms that eat one from the inside. There, in Hell, is Babel."     It is as close as it appears to be able or willing to come for now, though shredded flaps dangling fom beneath its steel-V skull-helm attempt vainly to inhale the scent of water, of unmarred flesh waiting to be flayed, with long-removed nostrils.     "We have our own version of events. Our own stories and records. The way we see the many different worlds and universes becoming, being, and always having been. However, as long as the other three libraries exist, they supplant all our hard work. They suppress our joyful truth of the collapse of petty restrictions, the refusal to let us rule them with Saints of Madness that will teach all souls what their true purpose is, one bloody, agonizing, delicious morsel at a time."     Its jaws open slightly, numerous maybe-tongues starting to slither and slip around in the darkness, and then reach out with... Hands. And faces. Bodies fused together, still making muffles groans mouthlessly, unable to scream despite their desire to do so. That tongue stretches out of the Wound, befouling whatever it touches and almost teasingly pretending not to be working its way towards Empty Tidings by exploring and 'tasting' the rest of the room. "We would like you to destroy the other libraries, the false writings of memory and dream and knowledge that say that things must be just so. But the first to be disposed of, child of Brass, must be the Akashic Records. You can discover the way to them within another of the libraries: Escher. That place is already filled with our agents. One way or another, it will fall."     The body-tongue less ambiguously begins arching up like a serpent, oriented on Empty Tidings. Perhaps just another empty threat. Perhaps a psychological trick to influence negotiations. Perhaps it is not quite so dedicated to not being tempted for the sake of discussion as it claims.     "You can have the sum total of all human knowledge, all information, all to yourself, if you unmake the Akashic Records for us. Spread our essence, that which is both our namesake and our true nature, and all that might be denied you will be yours. And then again, if you agree to destroy the other, the Bibliotheca, which holds all the knowledge of all the gods." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Empty Tidings hovers where she stopped. She watches it expand outward into the chamber, the not-quite-tongues venturing out in a way that she associates with an enormus flytrap. It's feigning disinterest just enough to expand its reach, waiting for an opening to strike. To 'take her away.' She is confident her enforced neutrality will hold up, but in the event it doesn't... She floats down to the floor of the undersea manse, bare feet touching stone, and takes a slow step forward. She rolls her right wrist, ending up with her hand palm up, fingers flexing. There's a dull sound like stone grinding against itself that she lets slide through the veil she's woven. It's about the equivalent of cracking her knuckles, but not nearly so gauche. "Then this knowledge will survive the destruction of the libraries," she asks. "I would hate to fulfill my end of the bargain only to find that by doing just as I promised, I had robbed myself of my just reward. Oh, the irony would be palpable, wouldn't it?" Her smile is a touch too wide, a flash of teeth a touch too white. They have that in common, it seems. "This seems an agreeable proposition to me." She nods. "I would, however, ask of you two trifles. The first, a boon, so that I may call upon your aid in the future, just once -- perhaps to spread all that you are here as well," she adds, an almost teasing morsel slipped into the mix. "The danger involved in the libraries' destruction is surely worth a little assistance, mm?" "Second..." She extends her right hand, palm up. Green flames dance over her fingertips. "...that we enter into a binding pact, sanctifying our terribly profitable partnership so that neither of us may deliberately undermine the other, and providing a measure of security against one another until our business is concluded. I think you can agree that, lacking a prior working relationship, certain steps should be taken, yes?" After a second, she adds, "'Sanctify' may be the wrong word, but it has such a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" There's that smile again. 

:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     The tongue pauses in its wiggling and cobra-like threat display as Empty Tidings mentions a potential scenario where she would not keep what she is after, and withdraws gradually, still emitting muffled screams, back into the maw of primordial Corruption. The creature listens to her proposition, and a dangerous, icy tone undercuts the musical peals of its voice before. The difference, like peeling up a flower bed to discover a mass grave, all staring up in blind horror from where they were buried alive, is stark. When it is not trying to sound pretty, its voice is so very, very ugly.     "One's mind is its own world. Its own sanctuary. Anything you commit to memory before you enact the destruction is yours to keep. And with how time is out of joint in such a place, you should have plenty of time to memorize it. Forever, in fact. But the library itself, the plane that IS the library, must cease to be. We will provide you with all that you require. But you must never share what you learn. If it enters our domain again after the fall, there will be consequences."     It withdraws a little bit from the Wound, perhaps preparing to depart. "You will be given a vessel. There is no need to spill it wantonly, no, no. Too soon for that. But there is one who holds a Crown meant to cage the sins of Humanity, the things that make them human. A prison to rob them of their individuality, their greed, their wrath, their lust, their sloth, their gluttony, their pride, their envy, and all the myriad wonderful traits they possess. That Crown has been broken and mended recently. You know, or you suspect, our nature. We know, or suspect, yours." 

:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     Its face presses up close again suddenly, entering the room a little bit, only stopped from coming further by that huge steel head plate. "Would either of us truly believe the other would loyally follow an agreement set out in words, or in contract? No, no. I think not. If you show us weakness, if you leave us an opening, we WILL gobble you up. We thus propose a different solution, but only for now. Retrieve the Crown of the Crimson King. That will be our binding agreement, in physical form rather than promises made in the dark. You will have the method to jail our actors and our essence if such suits you, though every action you take in our name, in word or in spirit, as per our agreement, will be stored there. The Crown will be the symbol of our agreement of future aid. If you cause it to be broken a second time, you can do as you please. Contract revoked. All nice and tidy. And we will be free to seek you out at our leisure and take you Home with us, without your protection."     The mouth withdraws and the creature starts slithering away. "If you can manage that much, obtaining the Crown and keeping it, perhaps something more binding is in our future. If you do not sour at the taste of us before then. You make a good point, you see. First time dealings. We are no desperate demon in need of rushed contracts. We have waited so terribly long already. Prove you are willing to work with us, and let us prove we will not interfere with you and yours. Unless, of course, we do. But a boon? Yes. You are permitted such. It is only fair, as we came to you. Even if you betray us, especially if you betray us, we will love all of our little children." 

:'''{{#var:1142|Ice King (1142)}} has posed:'''     The fingers start to withdraw, the owners of said fingers, if there even are any, never seen. The Wound is closing, but slowly, the decay around the walls fading and being restored to how it was originally, if perhaps slightly... Discolored. And a golden box sits before Empty Tidings. Inside is a vial of something black and swirling and Wrong, and a second vial with what appears to be a malformed fetus of some Unwholesome creature preserved inside. A sample of Corruption, no doubt that will definitely not be experimented upon or used in some sort of ritual or counter-protection or anything dubious like that. Not at all. And also, a pleasant little talisman, for communication when needed.     As the Wound finally closes, Corruption says distantly, "Something else requires our attention. Retrieve the Crown, and you will have protection from us. If you can not, then I suppose that we will just have to trust each other." The sarcasm in that final statement is thick indeed. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The screaming, thinks Empty Tidings, is starting to get a little grating. That, at least, is something that she and the Yozis can agree on one hundred percent: the only sort of noise that should be all-pervasive is the musical kind, and only of the /good/ sort. The fact that it has a musical lilt to its dischordant voice would almost be enough for her to reach out and strangle it if there weren't so many unknowns in play... and so very few, very distinct known factors that leads her to to one singular conclusion: Fighting it here would get her nothing but a broken manse and a lost opportunity. "The Crown of the Crimson King," she echoes. "A simple enough task. I'm certain the forces of assorted will make that more complicated than it must be." She lowers her hand, pressing it to the other. The traces of green flame rejoin her writhing anima. She bows again as the monstrous visage withdraws, and takes its voice with it. "I wish you well in your travels and dealings. When next we speak, we will assuredly be on better terms." The Wound slowly, very slowly, closes up. The wall remains miscolored. Empty Tidings drifts over to the spot it once occupied, gently touching the wall. She breathes slowly and deeply as the font of water gradually restores the place to its proper purity. And then she scours the discoloration from the wall with her bare hand, acid-washed fingers searing away any trace it had ever been. She turns away from it, raising her left hand and snapping her fingers. Another shadow lengthens in the room, this one from no source to be seen, with eyes that burn like coals. She gestures at the box. "Secure that. I'll want to examine it later." She drifts back upwards, back to her out-of-place hammock and the slate she set aside. The shadow demon glides into the room and goes to do exactly as it was told. She has more secure places for such things. Empty Tidings herself settles back in. She doesn't really read what she's looking at, though. She's going to be spending far too much time thinking hard about what just happened here. 
}}

5746/Wounded Deer Stumbles Home

2018-02-28T06:21:35Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/02/27 |Location=An-Teng, Creation-9999 |Synopsis=Empty Tidings is missing. The Watch picks up a distress signal. Demon hunters get involved. |..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/02/27
|Location=An-Teng, Creation-9999
|Synopsis=Empty Tidings is missing. The Watch picks up a distress signal. Demon hunters get involved.
|Cast of Characters=1151, 1161, 1138, 1133
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Thousand Dragons Lake is an enormous body of water abutting the foothills and mountains that lie along the southeast of An-Teng, a coastal province in the South of Creation. It's fed by at least four major rivers coming out of the mountains, and empties to the west in the River of Queens, a wondrous lifeline through the heart of the province. During the day, it's a beautiful sight. But the sun has set, and now the dark things roam. The lake is dark and forbidding. The shores, though dotted with the light of civilization, gather shadows. The signal on Empty Tidings' transponder leads to the lake. A natural warpgate lies in the High Lands to the east, tucked away in a grove growing in a secluded valley. The signal itself comes from an island near the base of a massive waterfall, the flow forking around the wedge-shaped chunk of rock, soil and trees. The keen-eyed can spy flickers of fire-light flashing and vanishing amidst the trees, over and over again. Figures on horseback approach from the north. It's hard to miss them; they're carrying lanterns, banishing the night with a golden glow... and are bee-lining for the island. Whatever they ride for, they ride with purpose. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Something soars overhead on wings seemingly made of light. It moves much faster than any bird and perhaps any man-made machine. It had broken the sound barrier a while back while approaching the location. The dragon takes a wide arc and flies down to come to a stop over the island, appearing there in an instant. Ryu suspiciously glances toward the glow of torch light, and squints in that direction with a light frown. He hadn't heard of anyone else coming to investigate this, besides Kohler's Servant.     The dragon continues his approach toward the transponder, but slower. He's slow and careful now, because slamming into a tree would be painful.     "I hope I don't have to fight anyone today," he complains mostly to the empty air. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Atalanta was bored. Boredom means following and looking for lost people and things! As a huntress, the lion-eared and tail'd Archer was actually rather good for situations like this, stepping through the natural warpgate with a twitch of her eyes. Following what seems like Empty's transponder heads to the lake, where Atalanta frowns. She pulls out her Godly Bow, stepping silently through the trees.      "Fire." She says, flatly. "You may be out of luck." She informs Ryu, before she takes off towards the trees. 

:'''{{#var:1133|Dapper Avenger (1133)}} has posed:''' The Avenger moved through the trees, the leaves rustling beneath his feet. He'd already been here before, and now it was the time to fulfill what he had set up, a wave of the hand as he lept out of the grove. He was dressed in a coat and a hat, his long white hair making him look a bit ragged, but overall noble - as if a nobleman had spent years in prison but his coat hadn't gone to rags. Moving faster than a normal human has any right to, Avenger approached the lake, moving towards the waterfall to try and get the closest to land in an attempt to swim as briefly as possible. The men coming from the north get a glance in the direction of the fire, but otherwise, the Avenger doesn't react to them. Instead, he moves to turn on his radio, all the while glancing up at Ryu flying overhead. That's interesting to him. The only question is if they are allies or enemies. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The group on horseback approaches the shoreline. They fan out along the length of the small island, carrying spears and bows. One of them, wearing an embroidered buff jacket and a helmet with a golden plume, gestures to the others. Half their number start to ford the shallows, gradually circling around towards the other side. The leader raises his voice and shouts into the night: "Demon!" he yells. "Your purification is at hand! Show yourself! Face the light of judgement and meet your end with honor!" A voice issues from the trees. It's a woman's voice, haughty but with the slightest rasp of age. It's coming from somewhere inside the bounds of the little island, but it's not clear where. Watching the scene from above makes it easier to spot the flecks of fire-light on the island, briefly highlighting a shadowy shape visible from the air. "Demon? What nonsense! And I shall do no such thing. Begone from my home, before you bring misfortune unto your lines!" The man shouts back, "We will not fall prey to your lies, demon!" One of the others with him leans over and murmurs something. They start scanning the skies -- probably for the glowing light hovering above it. They start fingering their bows cautiously... 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu floats on down from the sky. His wings carry an incredible light, and his form is very obvious as he flits on down and hovers there above the water... between the island and the hunters. He doesn't attack, but he does stare them down. His eyes flick between each of them as if sizing them up. When he speaks, his voice is loud and clear, and it booms over the open space with clear confidence.     "Explain. All of you. Why do you think this is a demon?"     Ryu was not lying, he doesn't want to get into a fight. Notably, he doesn't ask the 'demon' to explain, because credibility is relying on a pool of people overwhelmingly against the accused. He is, however, going to play Demon's Advocate, apparently. He doesn't seem intent on letting them past until they talk to him. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Atalanta is not far behind Dapper, maybe even keeping up too or ahead of him as the huntress speeds into the area that there is a 'demon' in.      "Okay. You stop." She says, tail flickering. Honestly, she might look like a Lunar to people in creation, her gauntleted fist creaking as her grip tightens on her bow. 

:'''{{#var:1133|Dapper Avenger (1133)}} has posed:''' As the demon hunters approach, Avenger climbs atop a tree that overlooks them, listening to their speech. He takes a moment to glance at their weapons and defenses, trying to get an idea of how much of a threat these guys are - though they have numbers either way. Having communicated with Ryu and Atalanta, and now clearly spotting Atalanta's presence, Avenger speaks aloud as they start fingering their bows, trying to draw attention to himself. "Ah, may you stop your quarrel for one moment? I seek Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris, and I know one of your groups can lead me to her. I will support whoever will aid me in such a fashion. Allow yourselves a moment to think over it and consider, or I will choose whichever side seems to best fit my goals." It's not the most subtle way of going through the challenge, but Avenger's not entirely trying to be subtle. He wants what information, and this isn't important enough to him to set up some wild and crazy plan. "And answer me one question, soldiers. To what are you fighting for? To whom do you owe your conviction?" 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The riders halt when Ryu comes down. Shortbows come up, raised and drawn without hesitation. The leader doesn't draw one; he instead plucks a spear out of a holster on his saddle, laying it across one shoulder and looking up with a stern look on his face. The lantern hooked to a ring near the end apparently isn't one at all: it's a big yellow crystal, glowing with some kind of inner light. "Who are you to make demands of us," starts one of the archers. The leader silences him with an offhand gesture. He falls silent. "Because it is," the leader says. He looks the trio over from atop his horse, considering them. They outnumber them about four to one. He might be weighing his options. He decides it is best to address Avenger's question while he's at it. "I am Due Giang. We are the Golden Brothers, and it is our duty to safeguard An-Teng from the forces of darkness. Can you not smell the stink of it?" He gestures across the water with his free hand. "It crawled its way here from the north. We have been tracking it for a day and a half." The older woman's voice calls across the water. "Ah, yes! Empty Tidings is a name I know well! Remove these intruders, and I will tell you all I know!" "More lies from a demon's filthy mouth," Due Giang says flatly. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     The answer 'Because It Is' is the quickest way to bring Ryu from zero to violence. He doesn't like people throwing their authoritative weight around, and he really doesn't like when he's stuck between an outnumbered 'demon' and a bunch of well-armed soldiers. He comes for a slow landing in the shallows of the water, and a low rumbling rolls from his chest.     "Wrong answer."     He vanishes. Rather, he pushes off the ground under the shallow water so fast and so firmly that it sends an explosion of water up in a huge wave behind him. In a blink, he is right on top of one of the arches, instantly whipping his tail to snap it around their leg, and try to use them as a human flail to hit anyone near them at that very moment with a swirl of force that might break the poor guy's leg. It happens in a fraction of a second with a lot of mist and a loud BOOM and whipcrack, the dragon not wasting time here. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      "Don't kill them. THey still might give us answers."      Atalanta says this smoothly as she raises the bow that is nearly bigger than she. One hand runs down the string, glimmers of green light coming from her pinching fingers as arrows spring to life from the action. Each arrow is fired without wasted motion and so quickly she's shooting off attacks like a shot gun, the arrows reappearing as she fires through the original set. 

:'''{{#var:1133|Dapper Avenger (1133)}} has posed:''' Well, the answer settles that. Avenger knows exactly what he's going to do, as he stands up tall from the tree. "Well, then. As laudable as that is, you have failed to give me what I desire, while your 'demon' will. Therefore, you must die." There is no 'don't kill them' switch. There is simply a grin, a flicker of those red eyes towards the Golden Brothers, and suddenly, a leap off the tree. Avenger's hands are suddenly soaked with black flame, as he moves to grab one of the Brothers and burn into him, as a show to the others. It's not meant to kill him fast or peacefully whatsoever, trying to burn through him in a way that'll cause excruiating pain, before throwing him to the side. "I am the black flame of grudge that burns brightly only via hatred and revenge. I am the Avenger. Tell me, Due Giang. How far will you go to protect your An-Teng? Are we your forces of darkness? Will you give up and surrender if I tell you that if you do, I will burn An-Teng to the ground? Make your decision, and make sure you don't regret it." As he says this, Avenger moves to rush the soldiers, striking at them with his flaming fists to burn into them. He has no actual skill with martial combat or brawling, but the flames are exceptionally hot, deal highly painful wounds, and are backed by superhuman strength. His goal is to kill, preferably in a way that scares the rest of them. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The water explodes upwards, and the Golden Brothers are abruptly joined in battle. Ryu's immediate attack drags wrenches one of the hunters off his horse and swings him into a second. Both topple. There's a shout from one, and an awful snapping noise from the second. The others loose their arrows, showering the trees where Atalanta and Avenger momentarily reside in shafts. The return fire is more effective. Atalanta's swarm tears another trio from their saddles, either killed instantaneously or as good as dead. Horses panic and start to scatter as Avenger charges in, or are wheeled around so that the Brothers on them can draw spears and meet him as he charges. He finds three hafts thrust at him immediately -- and gets under one, grabbing his first victim. The scream rends the night. The man ignites, writhes, grasping his flaming brand of a leg, and is unceremoniously flung aside. His fellows don't fare much better, but they have the benefit and drawback of mounts to keep them above Avenger's hands. He gets a second like the first. He closes on the third... Due Giang is there. A halo of shimmering, fiery light ignites around him momentarily, flashing out in an arc over Avenger's third victim. A shield of light intercepts the dark flame, giving the rider time to wheel his horse around and look to Due Giang for guidance. "Ride," he shouts. "Ride!" The rider -- barely out of childhood, a boy among men -- spurs his horse on, ducking low and galloping back down the shore the way they came. The scattered few charge back in, skilled spearmen rushing Ryu to run him down, stabbing with steel-headed spears. They're skilled combatants, but they're only mortals. It won't take much to shatter their weapons and lay them low. Due Giang leaps off his horse, spear spinning, and comes down on Avenger spearpoint-down like a falling star. The head of the spear glows yellow from the crystal light latched onto it. Up close, he can see that the entire haft is tightly wound in a brown cloth cover. The fiery halo that surrounded him vanishes the moment he's off his horse. "Let me get my hands on you," Due Giang growls, "and I'll tell you if you're the sort of monster I fight!" Atalanta can hear the sound of laughter from the island behind her. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:''' A rider, on a horse. Atalanta looks up, and gauges the age of the child, and her face goes from placid contemplation to utter, outright hostility as she turns her gaze on the rest of the party. "You dare involve children in a life of terror?" She spits at them. "How dare you. I am Archer, and I claim the child as protected, and you will not use him in your games."      The bow is slung over her back, and then Atalanta darts through the trees. She has no fear of losing the horse and the boy - she is superhumanly faster than the horse is, after all. The Servant, when she does catch up to the pair, however, goes immediately for the reins to pull the horse to a stop. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     The dragon lets the limp fellows drop after the attack, looking down at them with an imperceptible frown. He hears Atalanta's words ring in his head, and his eyes lid for a moment. He went overboard, and he can tell... and that means that he will have to fix this later. He makes a mental note to heal and revive the fallen later, his head momentarily turning as he overhears the sound of the demon over there laughing. He frowns a lot more pronouncedly-- and it means he's distracted when a spear comes at him. It jabs him and he jerks back, blue blood dribbling from his body in a messy spurt. He hisses and snarls, but the wound IMMEDIATELY seals, leaving only the blood there from where he got stabbed as proof it even happened.     Then he whips his tail around and snaps the spears in twain, sending wood shards all over the place. The tail moved faster than the eye could see, and gave off a loud BOOM!! Then he promptly struck each of the soldiers with vicious force with a follow-up swipe of his tail, sending out a blast of air. He didn't wait to think about it. 

:'''{{#var:1133|Dapper Avenger (1133)}} has posed:''' As he takes out the two men, Avenger notices several arrows stuck in his leg, ripping them out in a way that'd be painful if he could actually feel it. The moment he takes to pull them out as the boy escapes, who Avenger doesn't pursue, seems to be a bit of a mistake. Due Giang's spearpoint nearly slams straight into Avenger's skull, and instead impacts upon Avenger's shoulder as he weaves to the side, drawing blood and impaling him. Avenger stumbles briefly, mouth curving downwards as his eyes narrow on Due Giang. "You have gotten far over your head, Due Giang. Burn in the fires of Hell!" Avenger's arms and fists coat again with the black flames, as he moves to strike Due Giang, trying to force him and the spear back, gripping onto his shoulder to sear the painful flames into him. If Avenger manages to break free, he leaps upwards, moving to kick into Due Giang's face with flame-covered feet before flipping backwards onto a tree to survey the situation, watching for a chance to strike again. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Ryu's tail-whip shatters spears and bones. He topples one horse and knocks the rider off the second, sending him sailing into a tree further from the shore. The other stays pinned under his horse, struggling to get out from under it and only managing to reduce his plight to moaning in agony until he passes out. Atalanta takes to the trees. She catches up to the boy on horseback. She can see he's carrying bags and parcels -- food and water, maybe? -- and a bow of his own. He's got a spear sized for him, too, and is wearing hard leather armor that barely fits him. She gets close and stops the horse, and he looks at her with eyes wide with alarm. He jumps off the horse immediately, fumbling the spear on the way down, and scrambles to pick it up and get off the ground. Due Giang stands practically nose to nose with Avenger. Avenger makes a proclamation about his burning in Hell -- Due Giang punches him in the nose as hard as he can. He rips the spear out. The flaming hand grazes his shoulder and hits the haft of the spear. His jacket burns through instantly and the spear's covering burns, coming loose. Due Giang flings it into Avenger's face, jumping backwards and reflexively clutching his burn wound. The kick connects, but not full force, or the man would be dead on contact. It instead staggers him mid-hop, causing him to stumble and jab his spear against the ground to catch himself. The spear itself is transparent glass. It's one solid piece, an expertly-crafted weapon that is nearly invisible in his hands. The golden glow from his crystal lantern illuminates the length of it, making it look like a shaft of sunlight held tight in his grip. "You're not the spawn of darkness," Due Giang states, his voice pained. There's a burn across his face, and one eye is closed tightly where he was kicked. "What /are/ you?" He glances around the field. It's just the dead or dying. Due Giang whistles sharply, and the horses suddenly go into a frenzy, the few left kicking up a cloud of dust as they turn and bolt. He darts into it, breaking into the trees and dousing the golden glow that follows him the instant he's off the shore. He's as good as gone. The battle is over as soon as it had begun. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu grunts to himself as the last of the hunters fall. There's no reason for him to stop Due Giang, not when Avenger is attacking to intentionally kill by his own confession. The dragon settles down from his own violent fury, and frowns in a pronounced way at Avenger for a few seconds. He closes his eyes, briefly, and looks to the dead or dying strewn about this impromptu battlefield. He'll come back to them later, and bring them back from the dead a person at a time, but it will be an exhausting process that will take until the daylight hours to fully accomplish.     He may even lead them back to where they live, if they don't fuss about it too hard.     For now, though, he approaches the island anew to find the source of the voice, rumbling his displeasure at having to hurt these people just trying to improve the world. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Atalanta shoots at the spear before the kid can pick it up. Her aim is EXTREMELY good. He will not get hurt.      "You can either run, or come back with me and answer questions." She informs the child. "If you come back, you will be under my protection, and no harm shall come to you. THis I swear." 

:'''{{#var:1133|Dapper Avenger (1133)}} has posed:''' The punch leaves Avenger off-kilter as he retreats to the tree. He has to force himself to stay upright, wounds regenerating slowly but not capable of healing his discomfort, imbalance, or the burning regret that the man got away before Avenger could answer him with something clever and witty, like 'I am vengeance'. This clearly means Avenger will have to meet this man again someday to confront him and tell him exactly what he is. For now, Avenger leaps off the tree as everyone is dead, soon to be dead, or running away to not be dead. He moves to approach the 'demon' and their last known location, speaking aloud. "Now then, I have done as you asked. Tell me what you know about where I can find Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris. We have a business arrangement to discuss, and she has been late to communicate, and gone like the wind through every avenue I have tried." 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The spear gets neatly pinned to the ground in a manner befitting a showboating Servant with a job to do. The kid backs away from it, and then... pulls a knife from his belt. It looks like the sort you'd use for eating on the road rather than for self-defense, but he holds it in both hands and does his best to not look terrified. It isn't a good job. "W-wh-why should I trust a d-demon?! You'll just kill me when my back is turned!" The island is a tight cluster of trees and rocks around a central clearing. The voice is coming from there. Inside it is what must be the demon, for there is no other explanation for what he sees: a five-foot trunk of petrified wood, split open as if by an axe. A second glance makes out the shape of gnarled suggestions of limbs, stuck to the trunk as if it were a homonculus that were pinned to itself. The middle of it where it's split looks like a torn-open rib cage, with an exposed heart of pulsing emerald fire shot through with lines of whirling shadow. A tragedy-mask, upside-down, is affixed to the top of it, and creaks as it turns to regard him. "You have my thanks for dispatching them, child." The voice is the same, but there's an edge of discomfort and pain to it that wasn't present in the proud shouts. "I do not think I could have run for much longer." It tilts its mask back a little, as if it were trying to incline its 'head' politely, but it's as inside-out as the rest of it. "I am called Three-Part Tragedy. Be welcome in my domain... such as it is." The demon's head groans with the sound of straining wood as it regards Avenger. "The would-be poisoner, who avenged himself upon the nobility in such a grand fashion. I remember you well." The mask suddenly bears the impression of a smile. "I am afraid the Princess is presently missing. I would not be here if she were present... or," she adds, a touch ominously, "if she were intact." 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:''' Ryu finds the demon quite foul to look at and to smell, but only because the power it exudes is quite obvious to anyone with the right magical sense. He closes one of his eyes as he slows his approach to a stop, and he gives the creature a really critical look. It's something approaching uncertainty and disappointment.     "I don't think I'll have a problem bringing them back to life to watch them kill you if you don't tell us how to find her as soon as possible," he tells her, his tone about as grave as his words would suggest. "You're obviously a huge problem around these parts if you've got hunters frothing for your blood. And I don't have time to play games with demons, which you obviously are to anyone with two eyes in their damn head."     He opens that closed eye and waits for the demon to spill the beans.     "Get to the point," he emphasizes. 

:'''{{#var:1133|Dapper Avenger (1133)}} has posed:''' Avenger leans against a tree as they approach the clearing, taking a breath. He tips his hat down over his eyes, lifting one foot up against the tree as he listens to Three-Part Tragedy's speech. "I am the Avenger. It is a pleasure to meet you, Three-Part Tragedy." The fact that the Golden Brothers are right doesn't fail to cross Avenger's mind, but it doesn't actually matter to him. Instead, he smiles as Tragedy recognizes him. "Ah, so you were there. It was quite a spectacle, was it not?" Straightening himself up against the tree and lifting his hat back up, revealing his red eyes, Avenger frowns briefly at the reveal about Tidings. "Well well, well! That won't do at all for such an important person to have vanished, no! She must be found, so that we can continue our discussion from that fateful night. What happened to her, to be scooped up like so?" 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      "... ah. Well, then."      "I haven't killed you yet, have I? Anyways. I'll make things easier on us both." If the horse has remainded nearby, a quick slap on its' rear and Atalanta makes to send it running, before she starts heading back to the forest. He'll stab her. Or he won't. Either or. 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' The horse runs off. The boy looks flabberghasted. He looks between it and Atalanta, and eventually calls, "Wait!" There's a moment's hesitation. "Did... did you kill them?" "As point of fact," Three-Part Tragedy says, "I am not. Under normal circumstances, I am bound to the soul of the Princess, and under normal circumstances, I do not even have a body. That would make it terribly difficult to be some sort of scourge of An-Teng. Clearly," she laughs, voice pained, "these are not normal circumstances. Bad luck; that's all this was." "Dear child," she sighs, "if you can actually revive them, I invite you to. Such a wonder has not been seen in an Age. But think twice before you turn your roused hounds upon me, for I hold the key to making the Princess whole again." The eyes of the tragedy mask overflow with yellow-green tears. The demon-woman weeps. "Destroy me, and she will be lost and broken forevermore. What a tragedy! What a /waste/...!" The demon moves slowly. Tendrils of wood grow beneath it, gnarled, petrified fingers extending downward to the ground to nudge it forward. They burn as soon as they touch down, flickering with fire as they're reduced to ash, growing and being destroyed as the ten finger-growths propel it forward. It moves so smoothly as to seem to be hovering, if not for the parody of a cycle of life and death flickering beneath it. It stops close to Avenger, looking up at him. "An enemy took her," says Three-Part Tragedy, speaking in a hushed, angry tone. "A vile thief in the night, stealing her away. Our seperation was unexpected -- a contingency, you see -- and I hold her power and her bonds of duty until she can be found. I must be brought to her, to make her /whole/ again." The viridian-burning heart flares for just a moment. Three-Part Tragedy's shadows lengthen. She casts two. One is hers, a gnarled thing; the other, a woman's, silently reaching for something out of sight. 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu looks pretty displeased that it keeps insisting it isn't causing trouble. He obviously rolls his eyes, easy to see because of how big and shiny his eyes are. Then he turns his head to look over at Avenger, whose intent here was clearly malicious. The dragon considered his options here, though, after the demon told him that he could go right ahead and bring them back. He looked at the creature in mild confusion, eyes following the trail of the shadow that doesn't quite match.     "Fine. You'll get back to her, by one of our hands. I hope I don't regret helping her."     The dragon then turns to set about healing all of the dead hunters and even their horses if they got hurt or killed in that big fight. He brings the dead one by one to lay down in a row, and begins bringing them back to life one at a time. The process is visibly exhausting for him, but he's determined to do this until he passes out if he has to. Thankfully, the weight of such small souls isn't as taxing as it would've been with someone more important on his stores of magical power. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      "Not deliberately." Atalanta says carefully.      "I'm real good with my shooting. You can see that." She nods her lion-ear'd head at his spear. "I'm going back, you can come if you want. My offer of protection is on the table, still." She turns and leaves the kid there to make his own decision. 

:'''{{#var:1133|Dapper Avenger (1133)}} has posed:''' Avenger sees what is basically a plea for help, a request for a brave adventurer to make sure Three-Part Tragedy reunites with Empty Tidings. He takes his hands to his head, considers for a moment, and then puts them together and smiles. Sadly, Avenger is not that type of person. "While it is beneficial to me for her to be recovered, I have no reason or want to assist in rescuing her from these vile fiends. I have aided her more than she is already due by assisting you, and to do more would require her to repay my time in ways that I cannot be sure she will without communication. Having been stuck here, you must understand the value of time." Avenger's hands move behind his head, as he steps away from the tree, having regained his balance. "I will assist in making sure you get out of this place, and no more. In return, make sure that the Princess knows that she owes me." As he paces, Avenger tilts his head to Ryu. "Your proclamation to raise the dead interests me. What drives you, dragon?" 

:'''{{#var:1151|Empty Tidings (1151)}} has posed:''' Atalanta retreats. A short while later, she discovers that she does not get a tag-along. Three-Part Tragedy sighs up at Avenger. "Fine. Then recover one of the crystals the hunters use as lanterns. I will use it for transport to wherever she has been taken. It is too painful to move far otherwise." Ryu is going to get a slew of really confused hunters. Some of them thank him. Some of them just bolt. It's a weird kind of day to be them. They'll definitely remember him, but it's hard to say what kind of impression he left... 

:'''{{#var:1161|Ryu (1161)}} has posed:'''     Ryu pauses briefly in his meticulous behavior to address Avenger. It's a curt response that really drives home his opinion of the vengeance-fueled murder machine.     "Fuck off."     Yeah, he isn't really interested in talking to Avenger right now. Someone's grumpy. But at least he's focusing on what he said he'd do. 

:'''{{#var:1133|Dapper Avenger (1133)}} has posed:''' "Well then, someone's quite rude." Avenger frowns at Ryu, but brushes it off, instead moving over toward the corpse of one of the hunters he killed to grab their lantern, He's going to bring it to the others, head back to the warpgate with them as he said he would, and then run off with a tip of a hat. The others will handle the rest. 
}}

Empty Tidings

2018-02-08T08:31:52Z

Binary:

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=Empty Tidings
|Color=#43b3ae
|Char_id=1151
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/QFXoMNk.png
|FullName=Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris
|Gender=Female
|Species=Human (Exalted)
|Theme=Exalted-9999
|Chartype=OC
|Active=Active
|Function=Distressingly Friendly Loyalist
|Faction=Watch
|Rank=4-Member
|Ranktype=Member
|Quote="What are friends for?"
|PAge=20-something
|AAge=??
|Aging=No
|Height=5'5"
|Weight=Light
|Hair=Varies
|Eyes=Varies
|Song=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWYCS6k1IOA
|Profile='Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris' is a name to either greet politely or run away from. Once a nobody from An-Teng and now a celebrated Princess of Hell, Empty Tidings is one of those few Exalted chosen to retake the world for its imprisoned creators -- a task she undertakes eagerly, with a surplus of skill and a distinct lack of scruples. Outwardly, Empty Tidings can appear polite, friendly, warm and well-meaning, but her heart has been twisted by her Yozi masters, tainting a compassionate soul into one filled with smothering obsession and mercurial temperament. While capable of disguise and diplomacy alongside bare-knuckle ultraviolence, Empty Tidings' ability to manipulate reality is more impressive, allowing her to both forge and rewrite contracts and agreements of all sorts to her own terrible ends. While not interjecting herself into the lives of beloved friends and hated enemies (categories that appear uncomfortably similar, most days), Empty Tidings searches the Multiverse for allies in her quest to return Creation to the hands of its rightful masters, seeking to overthrow the current order of the world in the process... and she thinks she might have just found the right people to help her do it.
|Defining=''Glimpse the Black Mirror''

The Shadow of All Things teaches that to properly oppose an enemy, one must learn to fight as that enemy does.

'''Power Copy - 2:''' Empty Tidings is capable of copying the abilities of individuals she has observed. While she may adjust the aesthetic of a copied ability, Empty Tidings cannot directly create light, and instead alters relevant power displays to themes of shadow and darkness, save for incidental light (such as from a copied fireball).

''Mirror's Jagged Edge''

The Ebon Dragon delights in taking advantage of an enemy's weakness. Empty Tidings prefers to create one where none existed.

'''Debilitation:''' Empty Tidings is extremely skilled in making people's lives miserable, debilitating her opponents through spiteful curses of weakness and misfortune, awful poisons created in her own body, or by simply physically crippling her foes with her bare hands.

'''Disguise:''' Further, she is able to create illusionary disguises, altering all aspects of her physical appearance. This also allowing her to change the supernatural "flavor" of her powers' aesthetics and leave pre-defined false readings for lesser attempts to scan her or divine her true nature.

'''Wild Card - 1:''' Empty Tidings can warp oaths, agreements, or contracts, one parameter at a time, which then applies to all standing iterations of the agreement. She could warp a security card (being a contract of access) to count herself as a valid beneficiary and pass checkpoints and inspections, or alter the terms of an enemy mercenary's contract to fight for her (if she pays), but cannot compel people themselves, so volunteer guards or unorganized highwaymen would not be valid examples. This benefits herself retroactively (she was "always" in on it), but not others.
|Significant=''The Infernal Monster:''

Empty Tidings is a master of Infernal Monster Style, a savage form of martial arts intended to create suitably epic monsters to oppose equally legendary heroes.

'''Weapon Mastery - Hand-to-Hand:''' Empty Tidings is a master martial artist, specializing in using her fists, feet, and pieces of scenery to brutally grind her opponents into sticky red paste with improvised and excessive levels of ultraviolence.

'''Superior Strength:''' Empty Tidings' physical strength is incredible, allowing her to smash down stone walls with her bare hands, crater terrain by plowing her opponents into it, or even fling people absurd distances through the air whether they want her to or not.

'''Mobility:''' Empty Tidings is able to traverse all manner of terrain safely, from running up walls to leaping from branch to branch. She's also able to traverse the surface of any liquid, no matter how hazardous, as long as she remains in motion.

''Favored of the Ebon Dragon''

Empty Tidings serves the Shadow of All Things in a capacity as both diplomat and saboteur.

'''Wild Card - 2: Debilitation:''' Empty Tidings can forge supernaturally bindings oaths, where breakers of said oath are afflicted with a pre-agreed curse which levies a form of punishment at least one of the parties involved could inflict at the time of its creation, or else one of her debilitating hexes of misfortune the next five times they engage in dangerous situations.

'''Entry Methods:''' Empty Tidings is skilled in infiltration and espionage, encompassing lockpicking, blending in, sabotaging security, etc. She can briefly transform into shadow to slip through cracks, temporarily open man-sized holes in a wall, or (loudly) force open all entryways in a building.

'''Improbable Defense:''' Empty Tidings is capable of reflexively dissolving herself and all she carries into tarry, writhing shadows, reforming herself nearby once a threat has passed. Powers and attacks that are explicitly bane to the profane are incapable of being avoided in this manner.

''Beloved of Kimbery''

Empty Tidings loves the ocean like a creature from its depths, no matter how often the Sea may bring her woe.

'''Water Functionality:''' Empty Tidings effectively treats bodies of liquid as air or empty space when upon or submerged in them, turning "swimming" into high speed flight, ignoring hindering resistance or pressure, and allowing things like lighting fires. This incidentally makes tasks like fishing or sailing easier in many cases.

'''Healing - Self:''' Her attunement to the root of all seas also allows her to regenerate like something from its depths, recovering from minor wounds quickly and filling major damage with organic matter resembling sea life until it has properly healed later.

'''Mind Manipulation''' Empty Tidings can alter emotions in herself and others, turning bonds of love into hate or similarly reversing emotional ties.She can also compel observance of a sort of diplomatic immunity, preventing others from taking hostile action against her and her allies as long as they remain peaceful.

''Green Sun Princess''

Empty Tidings is a loyal servant of the true masters of Creation, and is blessed with certain advantages as a result.

'''Wealth:''' Empty Tidings has amassed a significant amount of wealth through clever sale of black market goods, accumulated tribute, and simple and forceful ill-gotten gain. She is able to draw on it wherever she goes through means both sorcerous and mundane.

'''Attack List - Ranged:''' Empty Tidings is capable of doing harm at a distance using conjured means appropriate to her patrons' purviews (such as poison, acid, water, darkness and cold).

'''Share Powers:''' Empty Tidings may temporarily share her abilities with her allies when she has some sort of connection to the beneficiary, such as a bond of friendship or previously sworn oath, or with targets of her emotion-twisting toxins.
|Minor=''Lesser Threats Scorned''

Some trivialities are too minor for an Infernal Exalted to concern themselves with.

'''Resistance - Disease:''' The extreme toxicity of Empty Tidings' blood renders her immune to mundane diseases, though tailored bio-weapons and sorcerous plagues remain a concern.

'''Resistance - Poison:''' Empty Tidings' toxic biology similarly provides immunity to non-magical poisons as the lesser substance is simply absorbed harmlessly into the greater.

'''Low Intake:''' Finally, by rapidly eroding a nearby corpse into essence-infused breath, Empty Tidings is able to breathe normally in any environment for the span of a day.

''The Bureaucrat From Hell''

In this case, it's literal.

'''Skill - Bureaucracy:''' Empty Tidings is extremely skilled at navigating complex, alien, or even deliberately obtuse or obstructionist bureaucracies with casual ease.

'''Skill - Linguistics:''' Empty Tidings' skill in analyzing and manipulating written language (including the ancient or obscure) to decipher meaning and intent, or to create complicated contracts, instructions or even prayers is immense and well-practiced.

'''Oration:''' Empty Tidings is well-versed in etiquette, protocol, and courtly behavior, and is a force of personality besides. She is an excellent socialite and has a great deal of experience ingratiating herself with strange or foreign subjects.

''Unwoven Coadjutor''

Empty Tidings plays host to a minor, bodiless demon that has been shackled to her soul: Three-Part Tragedy, one of the Chrysogonae, or "Crying Women." It occasionally proves useful in supplementing her skills.

'''NPCs:''' Empty Tidings is able to call on demonic and mortal minions to perform tasks for her or fight on her behalf (read: die for her amusement). While they are not particularly powerful, Three-Part Tragedy offers her frequent advice in how to best utilize their skills.

'''Knowledge - Demons:''' While Empty Tidings is not a savant specializing in esoteric lore, she is well-versed in the nature of the denizens of Hell and of many similar entities that fall into that same category from other worlds. Three-Part Tragedy fills in the gaps in her own knowledge.

'''Analysis:''' Three-Part Tragedy grants Empty Tidings the ability to focus on a person in her line of sight and see the presence and details of any sworn oaths and obligation she may then manipulate. Using this power causes her to weep uncontrollably until she stops her examination.

''Primordial Reinforcement''

Empty Tidings' exposure to the energies of the world's creators have left her more than human.

'''Extraordinary Senses:''' Empty Tidings' perceptions are supernaturally acute, allowing her to see through mundane forms of visual impairment (such as darkness or fog).

'''Agelessness:''' Empty Tidings is and will remain eternally young and strong... right up until she reaches a point around a century and a half and abruptly drops dead of old age. She is not aware of this particular complication with her longevity.

'''Resistance - Maiming:''' Empty Tidings' right hand has been converted into a demonic artifact equivalent, making it functionally indestructible. This quality (and resistance) does not extend further than her elbow.
|Disadvantages=Epically Overbearing <Trouble>: Empty Tidings is a creature of emotional extremes, growing attached to beloved friends and loathed foes with uncomfortably equal intensity, and with little room for anything in between. Her friends are treated exceptionally well, certainly, but they are expected to go to great lengths to comply with her unreasonable demands on their time, resources and patience. She will often inject herself into their lives without warning, making "helpful" adjustments where she feels they'd be better for it and dealing with perceived problems with all the awful power at her disposal and with little sense for scale or propriety to boot. Those that react to her affections with scorn quickly earn her enmity, flipping her from warm and cloyingly sweet to cold and bitter with equal intensity. After that has happened, she is just as quick to prove that Hell hath no fury like ''her'' scorn, derailing her own carefully-crafted plans and processes in favor of vengeance. Empty Tidings assumes friendship until otherwise proven, though she reacts to immediate dismissal somewhat more reasonably than apparent acceptance and then "betrayal," making it a much safer bet not to get involved with her in the first place... but maybe not an easier task.

The Ophidian Urge <Significant>: Empty Tidings is branded with a villainous Urge, a motivation that drives her to serve the goals of her masters. An Ophidian Urge is an urge to corrupt; in her case, to turn the power of those who defend the world against darkness to her service. Acting against this Urge -- for example, by working with do-gooders without taking the opportunity to subvert their goals, or enabling the defeat of a force of darkness rather than strengthening it -- gradually increases the displeasure of her masters until she suffers a punishment known as Torment. When so Tormented, Empty Tidings is stripped of all moral restraint for a full day and forced to engaging in her favorite vices, most commonly those involving the catharsis of unrestrained destruction and violence. The relationships she's built aren't safe from this Torment, as its very nature means that Empty Tidings will undoubtedly wish to drag others along on the ride... a desire she is very capable of fulfilling herself.

Acts of Villainy <Significant>: Empty Tidings is capable of delaying the onset of Torment from her Urge by performing acts of almost stereotypical (or, in the case of the Yozis, one might say "prototypical") villainy. These acts are always in some way detrimental to her own well-being, typically by necessitating she not take the most expedient route to solving a problem or removing a foe from the equation. For example, Empty Tidings may reveal the full scope of her grand plans to a captive audience or leave an enemy dangling on the precipice of a slowly-descending death-trap. She may also deliberately alert her foes to her presence to draw worthy enemies to her, or do something to otherwise show a capable opponent how much she "cares" about their arch-rivalry, such as kidnapping their lover and sending her back to them piece by piece. Leaving a hated foe alive so that they may suffer at her hands another day (rather than dispatching them and removing their interference entirely) will also suffice. Needless to say, taking advantage of her necessarily-villainous acts is the realm of plucky young heroes the world over... much to her chagrin.
}}

Empty Tidings

2018-02-08T08:30:37Z

Binary:

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=Empty Tidings
|Color=#43b3ae
|Char_id=1151
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/QFXoMNk.png
|FullName=Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris
|Gender=Female
|Species=Human (Exalted)
|Theme=Exalted-9999
|Chartype=OC
|Active=Active
|Function=Distressingly Friendly Loyalist
|Faction=Watch
|Rank=4-Member
|Ranktype=Member
|Quote="What are friends for?"
|PAge=20-something
|AAge=??
|Aging=No
|Height=5'5"
|Weight=Light
|Hair=Varies
|Eyes=Varies
|Song=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWYCS6k1IOA
|Profile='Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris' is a name to either greet politely or run away from. Once a nobody from An-Teng and now a celebrated Princess of Hell, Empty Tidings is one of those few Exalted chosen to retake the world for its imprisoned creators -- a task she undertakes eagerly, with a surplus of skill and a distinct lack of scruples. Outwardly, Empty Tidings can appear polite, friendly, warm and well-meaning, but her heart has been twisted by her Yozi masters, tainting a compassionate soul into one filled with smothering obsession and mercurial temperament. While capable of disguise and diplomacy alongside bare-knuckle ultraviolence, Empty Tidings' ability to manipulate reality is more impressive, allowing her to both forge and rewrite contracts and agreements of all sorts to her own terrible ends. While not interjecting herself into the lives of beloved friends and hated enemies (categories that appear uncomfortably similar, most days), Empty Tidings searches the Multiverse for allies in her quest to return Creation to the hands of its rightful masters, seeking to overthrow the current order of the world in the process... and she thinks she might have just found the right people to help her do it.
|Defining=''Glimpse the Black Mirror''

The Shadow of All Things teaches that to properly oppose an enemy, one must learn to fight as that enemy does.

'''Power Copy - 2:''' Empty Tidings is capable of copying the abilities of individuals she has observed. While she may adjust the aesthetic of a copied ability, Empty Tidings cannot directly create light, and instead alters relevant power displays to themes of shadow and darkness, save for incidental light (such as from a copied fireball).

''Mirror's Jagged Edge''

The Ebon Dragon delights in taking advantage of an enemy's weakness. Empty Tidings prefers to create one where none existed.

'''Debilitation:''' Empty Tidings is extremely skilled in making people's lives miserable, debilitating her opponents through spiteful curses of weakness and misfortune, awful poisons created in her own body, or by simply physically crippling her foes with her bare hands.

'''Disguise:''' Further, she is able to create illusionary disguises, altering all aspects of her physical appearance. This also allowing her to change the supernatural "flavor" of her powers' aesthetics and leave pre-defined false readings for lesser attempts to scan her or divine her true nature.

'''Wild Card - 1:''' Empty Tidings can warp oaths, agreements, or contracts, one parameter at a time, which then applies to all standing iterations of the agreement. She could warp a security card (being a contract of access) to count herself as a valid beneficiary and pass checkpoints and inspections, or alter the terms of an enemy mercenary's contract to fight for her (if she pays), but cannot compel people themselves, so volunteer guards or unorganized highwaymen would not be valid examples. This benefits herself retroactively (she was "always" in on it), but not others.
|Significant=''The Infernal Monster:''

Empty Tidings is a master of Infernal Monster Style, a savage form of martial arts intended to create suitably epic monsters to oppose equally legendary heroes.

'''Weapon Mastery - Hand-to-Hand:''' Empty Tidings is a master martial artist, specializing in using her fists, feet, and pieces of scenery to brutally grind her opponents into sticky red paste with improvised and excessive levels of ultraviolence.

'''Superior Strength:''' Empty Tidings' physical strength is incredible, allowing her to smash down stone walls with her bare hands, crater terrain by plowing her opponents into it, or even fling people absurd distances through the air whether they want her to or not.

'''Mobility:''' Empty Tidings is able to traverse all manner of terrain safely, from running up walls to leaping from branch to branch. She's also able to traverse the surface of any liquid, no matter how hazardous, as long as she remains in motion.

''Favored of the Ebon Dragon''

Empty Tidings serves the Shadow of All Things in a capacity as both diplomat and saboteur.

'''Wild Card - 2: Debilitation:''' Empty Tidings can forge supernaturally bindings oaths, where breakers of said oath are afflicted with a pre-agreed curse which levies a form of punishment at least one of the parties involved could inflict at the time of its creation, or else one of her debilitating hexes of misfortune the next five times they engage in dangerous situations.

'''Entry Methods:''' Empty Tidings is skilled in infiltration and espionage, encompassing lockpicking, blending in, sabotaging security, etc. She can briefly transform into shadow to slip through cracks, temporarily open man-sized holes in a wall, or (loudly) force open all entryways in a building.

'''Improbable Defense:''' Empty Tidings is capable of reflexively dissolving herself and all she carries into tarry, writhing shadows, reforming herself nearby once a threat has passed. Powers and attacks that are explicitly bane to the profane are incapable of being avoided in this manner.

''Beloved of Kimbery''

Empty Tidings loves the ocean like a creature from its depths, no matter how often the Sea may bring her woe.

'''Water Functionality:''' Empty Tidings effectively treats bodies of liquid as air or empty space when upon or submerged in them, turning "swimming" into high speed flight, ignoring hindering resistance or pressure, and allowing things like lighting fires. This incidentally makes tasks like fishing or sailing easier in many cases.

'''Healing - Self:''' Her attunement to the root of all seas also allows her to regenerate like something from its depths, recovering from minor wounds quickly and filling major damage with organic matter resembling sea life until it has properly healed later.

'''Mind Manipulation''' Empty Tidings can alter emotions in herself and others, turning bonds of love into hate or similarly reversing emotional ties.She can also compel observance of a sort of diplomatic immunity, preventing others from taking hostile action against her and her allies as long as they remain peaceful.

''Green Sun Princess''

Empty Tidings is a loyal servant of the true masters of Creation, and is blessed with certain advantages as a result.
Wealth: Empty Tidings has amassed a significant amount of wealth through clever sale of black market goods, accumulated tribute, and simple and forceful ill-gotten gain. She is able to draw on it wherever she goes through means both sorcerous and mundane.

'''Attack List - Ranged:''' Empty Tidings is capable of doing harm at a distance using conjured means appropriate to her patrons' purviews (such as poison, acid, water, darkness and cold).

'''Share Powers:''' Empty Tidings may temporarily share her abilities with her allies when she has some sort of connection to the beneficiary, such as a bond of friendship or previously sworn oath, or with targets of her emotion-twisting toxins.
|Minor=''Lesser Threats Scorned''

Some trivialities are too minor for an Infernal Exalted to concern themselves with.

'''Resistance - Disease:''' The extreme toxicity of Empty Tidings' blood renders her immune to mundane diseases, though tailored bio-weapons and sorcerous plagues remain a concern.

'''Resistance - Poison:''' Empty Tidings' toxic biology similarly provides immunity to non-magical poisons as the lesser substance is simply absorbed harmlessly into the greater.

'''Low Intake:''' Finally, by rapidly eroding a nearby corpse into essence-infused breath, Empty Tidings is able to breathe normally in any environment for the span of a day.

''The Bureaucrat From Hell''

In this case, it's literal.

'''Skill - Bureaucracy:''' Empty Tidings is extremely skilled at navigating complex, alien, or even deliberately obtuse or obstructionist bureaucracies with casual ease.

'''Skill - Linguistics:''' Empty Tidings' skill in analyzing and manipulating written language (including the ancient or obscure) to decipher meaning and intent, or to create complicated contracts, instructions or even prayers is immense and well-practiced.

'''Oration:''' Empty Tidings is well-versed in etiquette, protocol, and courtly behavior, and is a force of personality besides. She is an excellent socialite and has a great deal of experience ingratiating herself with strange or foreign subjects.

''Unwoven Coadjutor''

Empty Tidings plays host to a minor, bodiless demon that has been shackled to her soul: Three-Part Tragedy, one of the Chrysogonae, or "Crying Women." It occasionally proves useful in supplementing her skills.

'''NPCs:''' Empty Tidings is able to call on demonic and mortal minions to perform tasks for her or fight on her behalf (read: die for her amusement). While they are not particularly powerful, Three-Part Tragedy offers her frequent advice in how to best utilize their skills.

'''Knowledge - Demons:''' While Empty Tidings is not a savant specializing in esoteric lore, she is well-versed in the nature of the denizens of Hell and of many similar entities that fall into that same category from other worlds. Three-Part Tragedy fills in the gaps in her own knowledge.

'''Analysis:''' Three-Part Tragedy grants Empty Tidings the ability to focus on a person in her line of sight and see the presence and details of any sworn oaths and obligation she may then manipulate. Using this power causes her to weep uncontrollably until she stops her examination.

''Primordial Reinforcement''

Empty Tidings' exposure to the energies of the world's creators have left her more than human.

'''Extraordinary Senses:''' Empty Tidings' perceptions are supernaturally acute, allowing her to see through mundane forms of visual impairment (such as darkness or fog).

'''Agelessness:''' Empty Tidings is and will remain eternally young and strong... right up until she reaches a point around a century and a half and abruptly drops dead of old age. She is not aware of this particular complication with her longevity.

'''Resistance - Maiming:''' Empty Tidings' right hand has been converted into a demonic artifact equivalent, making it functionally indestructible. This quality (and resistance) does not extend further than her elbow.
|Disadvantages=Epically Overbearing <Trouble>: Empty Tidings is a creature of emotional extremes, growing attached to beloved friends and loathed foes with uncomfortably equal intensity, and with little room for anything in between. Her friends are treated exceptionally well, certainly, but they are expected to go to great lengths to comply with her unreasonable demands on their time, resources and patience. She will often inject herself into their lives without warning, making "helpful" adjustments where she feels they'd be better for it and dealing with perceived problems with all the awful power at her disposal and with little sense for scale or propriety to boot. Those that react to her affections with scorn quickly earn her enmity, flipping her from warm and cloyingly sweet to cold and bitter with equal intensity. After that has happened, she is just as quick to prove that Hell hath no fury like ''her'' scorn, derailing her own carefully-crafted plans and processes in favor of vengeance. Empty Tidings assumes friendship until otherwise proven, though she reacts to immediate dismissal somewhat more reasonably than apparent acceptance and then "betrayal," making it a much safer bet not to get involved with her in the first place... but maybe not an easier task.

The Ophidian Urge <Significant>: Empty Tidings is branded with a villainous Urge, a motivation that drives her to serve the goals of her masters. An Ophidian Urge is an urge to corrupt; in her case, to turn the power of those who defend the world against darkness to her service. Acting against this Urge -- for example, by working with do-gooders without taking the opportunity to subvert their goals, or enabling the defeat of a force of darkness rather than strengthening it -- gradually increases the displeasure of her masters until she suffers a punishment known as Torment. When so Tormented, Empty Tidings is stripped of all moral restraint for a full day and forced to engaging in her favorite vices, most commonly those involving the catharsis of unrestrained destruction and violence. The relationships she's built aren't safe from this Torment, as its very nature means that Empty Tidings will undoubtedly wish to drag others along on the ride... a desire she is very capable of fulfilling herself.

Acts of Villainy <Significant>: Empty Tidings is capable of delaying the onset of Torment from her Urge by performing acts of almost stereotypical (or, in the case of the Yozis, one might say "prototypical") villainy. These acts are always in some way detrimental to her own well-being, typically by necessitating she not take the most expedient route to solving a problem or removing a foe from the equation. For example, Empty Tidings may reveal the full scope of her grand plans to a captive audience or leave an enemy dangling on the precipice of a slowly-descending death-trap. She may also deliberately alert her foes to her presence to draw worthy enemies to her, or do something to otherwise show a capable opponent how much she "cares" about their arch-rivalry, such as kidnapping their lover and sending her back to them piece by piece. Leaving a hated foe alive so that they may suffer at her hands another day (rather than dispatching them and removing their interference entirely) will also suffice. Needless to say, taking advantage of her necessarily-villainous acts is the realm of plucky young heroes the world over... much to her chagrin.
}}

Empty Tidings

2018-01-13T19:07:38Z

Binary:

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=Empty Tidings
|Color=#43b3ae
|Char_id=1151
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/QFXoMNk.png
|FullName=Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris
|Gender=Female
|Species=Human (Exalted)
|Theme=Exalted-9999
|Chartype=OC
|Active=Active
|Function=Distressingly Friendly Loyalist
|Faction=Watch
|Rank=4-Member
|Ranktype=Member
|Quote="What are friends for?"
|PAge=20-something
|AAge=??
|Aging=No
|Height=5'5"
|Weight=Light
|Hair=Varies
|Eyes=Varies
|Song=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWYCS6k1IOA
|Profile='Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris' is a name to either greet politely or run away from. Once a nobody from An-Teng and now a celebrated Princess of Hell, Empty Tidings is one of those few Exalted chosen to retake the world for its imprisoned creators -- a task she undertakes eagerly, with a surplus of skill and a distinct lack of scruples. Outwardly, Empty Tidings can appear polite, friendly, warm and well-meaning, but her heart has been twisted by her Yozi masters, tainting a compassionate soul into one filled with smothering obsession and mercurial temperament. While capable of disguise and diplomacy alongside bare-knuckle ultraviolence, Empty Tidings' ability to manipulate reality is more impressive, allowing her to both forge and rewrite contracts and agreements of all sorts to her own terrible ends. While not interjecting herself into the lives of beloved friends and hated enemies (categories that appear uncomfortably similar, most days), Empty Tidings searches the Multiverse for allies in her quest to return Creation to the hands of its rightful masters, seeking to overthrow the current order of the world in the process... and she thinks she might have just found the right people to help her do it.
|Defining=''Glimpse the Black Mirror''
The Shadow of All Things teaches that to properly oppose an enemy, one must learn to fight as that enemy does.

'''Power Copy - 2:''' Empty Tidings is capable of copying the abilities of individuals she has observed. While she may adjust the aesthetic of a copied ability, Empty Tidings cannot directly create light, and instead alters relevant power displays to themes of shadow and darkness, save for incidental light (such as from a copied fireball).

''Mirror's Jagged Edge''
The Ebon Dragon delights in taking advantage of an enemy's weakness. Empty Tidings prefers to create one where none existed.

'''Debilitation:''' Empty Tidings is extremely skilled in making people's lives miserable, debilitating her opponents through spiteful curses of weakness and misfortune, awful poisons created in her own body, or by simply physically crippling her foes with her bare hands.

'''Disguise:''' Further, she is able to create illusionary disguises, altering all aspects of her physical appearance. This also allowing her to change the supernatural "flavor" of her powers' aesthetics and leave pre-defined false readings for lesser attempts to scan her or divine her true nature.

'''Wild Card - 1:''' Empty Tidings can warp oaths, agreements, or contracts, one parameter at a time, which then applies to all standing iterations of the agreement. She could warp a security card (being a contract of access) to count herself as a valid beneficiary and pass checkpoints and inspections, or alter the terms of an enemy mercenary's contract to fight for her (if she pays), but cannot compel people themselves, so volunteer guards or unorganized highwaymen would not be valid examples. This benefits herself retroactively (she was "always" in on it), but not others.
|Significant=
''The Infernal Monster:''

Empty Tidings is a master of Infernal Monster Style, a savage form of martial arts intended to create suitably epic monsters to oppose equally legendary heroes.

'''Weapon Mastery - Hand-to-Hand:''' Empty Tidings is a master martial artist, specializing in using her fists, feet, and pieces of scenery to brutally grind her opponents into sticky red paste with improvised and excessive levels of ultraviolence.

'''Superior Strength:''' Empty Tidings' physical strength is incredible, allowing her to smash down stone walls with her bare hands, crater terrain by plowing her opponents into it, or even fling people absurd distances through the air whether they want her to or not.

'''Mobility:''' Empty Tidings is able to traverse all manner of terrain safely, from running up walls to leaping from branch to branch. She's also able to traverse the surface of any liquid, no matter how hazardous, as long as she remains in motion.

''Favored of the Ebon Dragon''

Empty Tidings serves the Shadow of All Things in a capacity as both diplomat and saboteur.

'''Wild Card - 2: Debilitation:''' Empty Tidings can forge supernaturally bindings oaths, where breakers of said oath are afflicted with a pre-agreed curse which levies a form of punishment at least one of the parties involved could inflict at the time of its creation, or else one of her debilitating hexes of misfortune the next five times they engage in dangerous situations.

'''Entry Methods:''' Empty Tidings is skilled in infiltration and espionage, encompassing lockpicking, blending in, sabotaging security, etc. She can briefly transform into shadow to slip through cracks, temporarily open man-sized holes in a wall, or (loudly) force open all entryways in a building.

'''Improbable Defense:''' Empty Tidings is capable of reflexively dissolving herself and all she carries into tarry, writhing shadows, reforming herself nearby once a threat has passed. Powers and attacks that are explicitly bane to the profane are incapable of being avoided in this manner.

''Beloved of Kimbery''

Empty Tidings loves the ocean like a creature from its depths, no matter how often the Sea may bring her woe.

'''Water Functionality:''' Empty Tidings effectively treats bodies of liquid as air or empty space when upon or submerged in them, turning "swimming" into high speed flight, ignoring hindering resistance or pressure, and allowing things like lighting fires. This incidentally makes tasks like fishing or sailing easier in many cases.

'''Healing - Self:''' Her attunement to the root of all seas also allows her to regenerate like something from its depths, recovering from minor wounds quickly and filling major damage with organic matter resembling sea life until it has properly healed later.

'''Mind Manipulation''' Empty Tidings can alter emotions in herself and others, turning bonds of love into hate or similarly reversing emotional ties.She can also compel observance of a sort of diplomatic immunity, preventing others from taking hostile action against her and her allies as long as they remain peaceful.

''Green Sun Princess''

Empty Tidings is a loyal servant of the true masters of Creation, and is blessed with certain advantages as a result.
Wealth: Empty Tidings has amassed a significant amount of wealth through clever sale of black market goods, accumulated tribute, and simple and forceful ill-gotten gain. She is able to draw on it wherever she goes through means both sorcerous and mundane.

'''Attack List - Ranged:''' Empty Tidings is capable of doing harm at a distance using conjured means appropriate to her patrons' purviews (such as poison, acid, water, darkness and cold).

'''Share Powers:''' Empty Tidings may temporarily share her abilities with her allies when she has some sort

|Minor=
''Lesser Threats Scorned''

Some trivialities are too minor for an Infernal Exalted to concern themselves with.

'''Resistance - Disease:''' The extreme toxicity of Empty Tidings' blood renders her immune to mundane diseases, though tailored bio-weapons and sorcerous plagues remain a concern.

'''Resistance - Poison:''' Empty Tidings' toxic biology similarly provides immunity to non-magical poisons as the lesser substance is simply absorbed harmlessly into the greater.

'''Low Intake:''' Finally, by rapidly eroding a nearby corpse into essence-infused breath, Empty Tidings is able to breathe normally in any environment for the span of a day.

''The Bureaucrat From Hell''

In this case, it's literal.

'''Skill - Bureaucracy:''' Empty Tidings is extremely skilled at navigating complex, alien, or even deliberately obtuse or obstructionist bureaucracies with casual ease.

'''Skill - Linguistics:''' Empty Tidings' skill in analyzing and manipulating written language (including the ancient or obscure) to decipher meaning and intent, or to create complicated contracts, instructions or even prayers is immense and well-practiced.

'''Oration:''' Empty Tidings is well-versed in etiquette, protocol, and courtly behavior, and is a force of personality besides. She is an excellent socialite and has a great deal of experience ingratiating herself with strange or foreign subjects.

''Unwoven Coadjutor''

Empty Tidings plays host to a minor, bodiless demon that has been shackled to her soul: Three-Part Tragedy, one of the Chrysogonae, or "Crying Women." It occasionally proves useful in supplementing her skills.

'''NPCs:''' Empty Tidings is able to call on demonic and mortal minions to perform tasks for her or fight on her behalf (read: die for her amusement). While they are not particularly powerful, Three-Part Tragedy offers her frequent advice in how to best utilize their skills.

'''Knowledge - Demons:''' While Empty Tidings is not a savant specializing in esoteric lore, she is well-versed in the nature of the denizens of Hell and of many similar entities that fall into that same category from other worlds. Three-Part Tragedy fills in the gaps in her own knowledge.

'''Analysis:''' Three-Part Tragedy grants Empty Tidings the ability to focus on a person in her line of sight and see the presence and details of any sworn oaths and obligation she may then manipulate. Using this power causes her to weep uncontrollably until she stops her examination.

''Primordial Reinforcement''

Empty Tidings' exposure to the energies of the world's creators have left her more than human.

'''Extraordinary Senses:''' Empty Tidings' perceptions are supernaturally acute, allowing her to see through mundane forms of visual impairment (such as darkness or fog).

'''Agelessness:''' Empty Tidings is and will remain eternally young and strong... right up until she reaches a point around a century and a half and abruptly drops dead of old age. She is not aware of this particular complication with her longevity.

'''Resistance - Maiming:''' Empty Tidings' right hand has been converted into a demonic artifact equivalent, making it functionally indestructible. This quality (and resistance) does not extend further than her elbow.

|Disadvantages=Epically Overbearing <Trouble>: Empty Tidings is a creature of emotional extremes, growing attached to beloved friends and loathed foes with uncomfortably equal intensity, and with little room for anything in between. Her friends are treated exceptionally well, certainly, but they are expected to go to great lengths to comply with her unreasonable demands on their time, resources and patience. She will often inject herself into their lives without warning, making "helpful" adjustments where she feels they'd be better for it and dealing with perceived problems with all the awful power at her disposal and with little sense for scale or propriety to boot. Those that react to her affections with scorn quickly earn her enmity, flipping her from warm and cloyingly sweet to cold and bitter with equal intensity. After that has happened, she is just as quick to prove that Hell hath no fury like ''her'' scorn, derailing her own carefully-crafted plans and processes in favor of vengeance. Empty Tidings assumes friendship until otherwise proven, though she reacts to immediate dismissal somewhat more reasonably than apparent acceptance and then "betrayal," making it a much safer bet not to get involved with her in the first place... but maybe not an easier task.

The Ophidian Urge <Significant>: Empty Tidings is branded with a villainous Urge, a motivation that drives her to serve the goals of her masters. An Ophidian Urge is an urge to corrupt; in her case, to turn the power of those who defend the world against darkness to her service. Acting against this Urge -- for example, by working with do-gooders without taking the opportunity to subvert their goals, or enabling the defeat of a force of darkness rather than strengthening it -- gradually increases the displeasure of her masters until she suffers a punishment known as Torment. When so Tormented, Empty Tidings is stripped of all moral restraint for a full day and forced to engaging in her favorite vices, most commonly those involving the catharsis of unrestrained destruction and violence. The relationships she's built aren't safe from this Torment, as its very nature means that Empty Tidings will undoubtedly wish to drag others along on the ride... a desire she is very capable of fulfilling herself.

Acts of Villainy <Significant>: Empty Tidings is capable of delaying the onset of Torment from her Urge by performing acts of almost stereotypical (or, in the case of the Yozis, one might say "prototypical") villainy. These acts are always in some way detrimental to her own well-being, typically by necessitating she not take the most expedient route to solving a problem or removing a foe from the equation. For example, Empty Tidings may reveal the full scope of her grand plans to a captive audience or leave an enemy dangling on the precipice of a slowly-descending death-trap. She may also deliberately alert her foes to her presence to draw worthy enemies to her, or do something to otherwise show a capable opponent how much she "cares" about their arch-rivalry, such as kidnapping their lover and sending her back to them piece by piece. Leaving a hated foe alive so that they may suffer at her hands another day (rather than dispatching them and removing their interference entirely) will also suffice. Needless to say, taking advantage of her necessarily-villainous acts is the realm of plucky young heroes the world over... much to her chagrin.
}}

Empty Tidings

2018-01-13T07:56:55Z

Binary:

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=Empty Tidings
|Color=#43b3ae
|Char_id=1151
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/QFXoMNk.png
|FullName=Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris
|Gender=Female
|Species=Human (Exalted)
|Theme=Exalted-9999
|Chartype=OC
|Active=Active
|Function=Distressingly Friendly Loyalist
|Faction=Watch
|Rank=4-Member
|Ranktype=Member
|Quote="What are friends for?"
|PAge=20-something
|AAge=??
|Aging=No
|Height=5'5"
|Weight=Light
|Hair=Varies
|Eyes=Varies
|Song=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWYCS6k1IOA
|Profile='Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris' is a name to either greet politely or run away from. Once a nobody from An-Teng and now a celebrated Princess of Hell, Empty Tidings is one of those few Exalted chosen to retake the world for its imprisoned creators -- a task she undertakes eagerly, with a surplus of skill and a distinct lack of scruples. Outwardly, Empty Tidings can appear polite, friendly, warm and well-meaning, but her heart has been twisted by her Yozi masters, tainting a compassionate soul into one filled with smothering obsession and mercurial temperament. While capable of disguise and diplomacy alongside bare-knuckle ultraviolence, Empty Tidings' ability to manipulate reality is more impressive, allowing her to both forge and rewrite contracts and agreements of all sorts to her own terrible ends. While not interjecting herself into the lives of beloved friends and hated enemies (categories that appear uncomfortably similar, most days), Empty Tidings searches the Multiverse for allies in her quest to return Creation to the hands of its rightful masters, seeking to overthrow the current order of the world in the process... and she thinks she might have just found the right people to help her do it.
|Defining=Glimpse the Black Mirror:
The Shadow of All Things teaches that to properly oppose an enemy, one must learn to fight as that enemy does.
Power Copy - 2: Empty Tidings is capable of copying the abilities of individuals she has observed. While she may adjust the aesthetic of a copied ability, Empty Tidings cannot directly create light, and instead alters relevant power displays to themes of shadow and darkness, save for incidental light (such as from a copied fireball).

Mirror's Jagged Edge:
The Ebon Dragon delights in taking advantage of an enemy's weakness. Empty Tidings prefers to create one where none existed.
Debilitation: Empty Tidings is extremely skilled in making people's lives miserable, debilitating her opponents through spiteful curses of weakness and misfortune, awful poisons created in her own body, or by simply physically crippling her foes with her bare hands.

Disguise: Further, she is able to create illusionary disguises, altering all aspects of her physical appearance. This also allowing her to change the supernatural "flavor" of her powers' aesthetics and leave pre-defined false readings for lesser attempts to scan her or divine her true nature.

Wild Card - 1: Empty Tidings can warp oaths, agreements, or contracts, one parameter at a time, which then applies to all standing iterations of the agreement. She could warp a security card (being a contract of access) to count herself as a valid beneficiary and pass checkpoints and inspections, or alter the terms of an enemy mercenary's contract to fight for her (if she pays), but cannot compel people themselves, so volunteer guards or unorganized highwaymen would not be valid examples. This benefits herself retroactively (she was "always" in on it), but not others.
|Significant=The Infernal Monster:
Empty Tidings is a master of Infernal Monster Style, a savage form of martial arts intended to create suitably epic monsters to oppose equally legendary heroes.
Weapon Mastery - Hand-to-Hand: Empty Tidings is a master martial artist, specializing in using her fists, feet, and pieces of scenery to brutally grind her opponents into sticky red paste with improvised and excessive levels of ultraviolence.
Superior Strength: Empty Tidings' physical strength is incredible, allowing her to smash down stone walls with her bare hands, crater terrain by plowing her opponents into it, or even fling people absurd distances through the air whether they want her to or not.
Mobility: Empty Tidings is able to traverse all manner of terrain safely, from running up walls to leaping from branch to branch. She's also able to traverse the surface of any liquid, no matter how hazardous, as long as she remains in motion.

Favored of the Ebon Dragon:
Empty Tidings serves the Shadow of All Things in a capacity as both diplomat and saboteur.
Wild Card - 2: Debilitation: Empty Tidings can forge supernaturally bindings oaths, where breakers of said oath are afflicted with a pre-agreed curse which levies a form of punishment at least one of the parties involved could inflict at the time of its creation, or else one of her debilitating hexes of misfortune the next five times they engage in dangerous situations.
Entry Methods: Empty Tidings is skilled in infiltration and espionage, encompassing lockpicking, blending in, sabotaging security, etc. She can briefly transform into shadow to slip through cracks, temporarily open man-sized holes in a wall, or (loudly) force open all entryways in a building.
Improbable Defense: Empty Tidings is capable of reflexively dissolving herself and all she carries into tarry, writhing shadows, reforming herself nearby once a threat has passed. Powers and attacks that are explicitly bane to the profane are incapable of being avoided in this manner.

Beloved of Kimbery:
Empty Tidings loves the ocean like a creature from its depths, no matter how often the Sea may bring her woe.
Water Functionality: Empty Tidings effectively treats bodies of liquid as air or empty space when upon or submerged in them, turning "swimming" into high speed flight, ignoring hindering resistance or pressure, and allowing things like lighting fires. This incidentally makes tasks like fishing or sailing easier in many cases.
Healing - Self: Her attunement to the root of all seas also allows her to regenerate like something from its depths, recovering from minor wounds quickly and filling major damage with organic matter resembling sea life until it has properly healed later.
Mind Manipulation: Empty Tidings can alter emotions in herself and others, turning bonds of love into hate or similarly reversing emotional ties.She can also compel observance of a sort of diplomatic immunity, preventing others from taking hostile action against her and her allies as long as they remain peaceful.

Green Sun Princess:
Empty Tidings is a loyal servant of the true masters of Creation, and is blessed with certain advantages as a result.
Wealth: Empty Tidings has amassed a significant amount of wealth through clever sale of black market goods, accumulated tribute, and simple and forceful ill-gotten gain. She is able to draw on it wherever she goes through means both sorcerous and mundane.
Attack List - Ranged: Empty Tidings is capable of doing harm at a distance using conjured means appropriate to her patrons' purviews (such as poison, acid, water, darkness and cold).
Share Powers: Empty Tidings may temporarily share her abilities with her allies when she has some sort
|Minor=Lesser Threats Scorned:
Some trivialities are too minor for an Infernal Exalted to concern themselves with.
Resistance - Disease: The extreme toxicity of Empty Tidings' blood renders her immune to mundane diseases, though tailored bio-weapons and sorcerous plagues remain a concern.
Resistance - Poison: Empty Tidings' toxic biology similarly provides immunity to non-magical poisons as the lesser substance is simply absorbed harmlessly into the greater.
Low Intake: Finally, by rapidly eroding a nearby corpse into essence-infused breath, Empty Tidings is able to breathe normally in any environment for the span of a day.

The Bureaucrat From Hell:
In this case, it's literal.
Skill - Bureaucracy: Empty Tidings is extremely skilled at navigating complex, alien, or even deliberately obtuse or obstructionist bureaucracies with casual ease.
Skill - Linguistics: Empty Tidings' skill in analyzing and manipulating written language (including the ancient or obscure) to decipher meaning and intent, or to create complicated contracts, instructions or even prayers is immense and well-practiced.
Oration: Empty Tidings is well-versed in etiquette, protocol, and courtly behavior, and is a force of personality besides. She is an excellent socialite and has a great deal of experience ingratiating herself with strange or foreign subjects.

Unwoven Coadjutor:
Empty Tidings plays host to a minor, bodiless demon that has been shackled to her soul: Three-Part Tragedy, one of the Chrysogonae, or "Crying Women." It occasionally proves useful in supplementing her skills.
NPCs: Empty Tidings is able to call on demonic and mortal minions to perform tasks for her or fight on her behalf (read: die for her amusement). While they are not particularly powerful, Three-Part Tragedy offers her frequent advice in how to best utilize their skills.
Knowledge - Demons: While Empty Tidings is not a savant specializing in esoteric lore, she is well-versed in the nature of the denizens of Hell and of many similar entities that fall into that same category from other worlds. Three-Part Tragedy fills in the gaps in her own knowledge.
Analysis: Three-Part Tragedy grants Empty Tidings the ability to focus on a person in her line of sight and see the presence and details of any sworn oaths and obligation she may then manipulate. Using this power causes her to weep uncontrollably until she stops her examination.

Primordial Reinforcement:
Empty Tidings' exposure to the energies of the world's creators have left her more than human.
Extraordinary Senses: Empty Tidings' perceptions are supernaturally acute, allowing her to see through mundane forms of visual impairment (such as darkness or fog).
Agelessness: Empty Tidings is and will remain eternally young and strong... right up until she reaches a point around a century and a half and abruptly drops dead of old age. She is not aware of this particular complication with her longevity.
Resistance - Maiming: Empty Tidings' right hand has been converted into a demonic artifact equivalent, making it functionally indestructible. This quality (and resistance) does not extend further than her elbow.
|Disadvantages=Epically Overbearing <Trouble>: Empty Tidings is a creature of emotional extremes, growing attached to beloved friends and loathed foes with uncomfortably equal intensity, and with little room for anything in between. Her friends are treated exceptionally well, certainly, but they are expected to go to great lengths to comply with her unreasonable demands on their time, resources and patience. She will often inject herself into their lives without warning, making "helpful" adjustments where she feels they'd be better for it and dealing with perceived problems with all the awful power at her disposal and with little sense for scale or propriety to boot. Those that react to her affections with scorn quickly earn her enmity, flipping her from warm and cloyingly sweet to cold and bitter with equal intensity. After that has happened, she is just as quick to prove that Hell hath no fury like /her/ scorn, derailing her own carefully-crafted plans and processes in favor of vengeance. Empty Tidings assumes friendship until otherwise proven, though she reacts to immediate dismissal somewhat more reasonably than apparent acceptance and then "betrayal," making it a much safer bet not to get involved with her in the first place... but maybe not an easier task.

The Ophidian Urge <Significant>: Empty Tidings is branded with a villainous Urge, a motivation that drives her to serve the goals of her masters. An Ophidian Urge is an urge to corrupt; in her case, to turn the power of those who defend the world against darkness to her service. Acting against this Urge -- for example, by working with do-gooders without taking the opportunity to subvert their goals, or enabling the defeat of a force of darkness rather than strengthening it -- gradually increases the displeasure of her masters until she suffers a punishment known as Torment. When so Tormented, Empty Tidings is stripped of all moral restraint for a full day and forced to engaging in her favorite vices, most commonly those involving the catharsis of unrestrained destruction and violence. The relationships she's built aren't safe from this Torment, as its very nature means that Empty Tidings will undoubtedly wish to drag others along on the ride... a desire she is very capable of fulfilling herself.

Acts of Villainy <Significant>: Empty Tidings is capable of delaying the onset of Torment from her Urge by performing acts of almost stereotypical (or, in the case of the Yozis, one might say "prototypical") villainy. These acts are always in some way detrimental to her own well-being, typically by necessitating she not take the most expedient route to solving a problem or removing a foe from the equation. For example, Empty Tidings may reveal the full scope of her grand plans to a captive audience or leave an enemy dangling on the precipice of a slowly-descending death-trap. She may also deliberately alert her foes to her presence to draw worthy enemies to her, or do something to otherwise show a capable opponent how much she "cares" about their arch-rivalry, such as kidnapping their lover and sending her back to them piece by piece. Leaving a hated foe alive so that they may suffer at her hands another day (rather than dispatching them and removing their interference entirely) will also suffice. Needless to say, taking advantage of her necessarily-villainous acts is the realm of plucky young heroes the world over... much to her chagrin.
}}

Empty Tidings

2018-01-13T07:52:23Z

Binary: Created page with "{{CharacterRedux |NameOnMUSH=Empty Tidings |Color=#43b3ae |Char_id=1151 |Img=https://i.imgur.com/QFXoMNk.png |FullName=Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris |Gender=Female |Spe..."

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=Empty Tidings
|Color=#43b3ae
|Char_id=1151
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/QFXoMNk.png
|FullName=Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris
|Gender=Female
|Species=Human (Exalted)
|Theme=Exalted-9999
|Chartype=OC
|Active=Active
|Function=Distressingly Friendly Loyalist
|Faction=Watch
|Rank=4-Member
|Ranktype=Member
|Quote="What are friends for?"
|PAge=Mid-20's
|AAge=??
|Aging=No
|Height=5'5"
|Weight=Light
|Hair=Varies
|Eyes=Varies
|Song=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWYCS6k1IOA
|Profile='Empty Tidings of Brass and Verdigris' is a name to either greet politely or run away from. Once a nobody from An-Teng and now a celebrated Princess of Hell, Empty Tidings is one of those few Exalted chosen to retake the world for its imprisoned creators -- a task she undertakes eagerly, with a surplus of skill and a distinct lack of scruples. Outwardly, Empty Tidings can appear polite, friendly, warm and well-meaning, but her heart has been twisted by her Yozi masters, tainting a compassionate soul into one filled with smothering obsession and mercurial temperament. While capable of disguise and diplomacy alongside bare-knuckle ultraviolence, Empty Tidings' ability to manipulate reality is more impressive, allowing her to both forge and rewrite contracts and agreements of all sorts to her own terrible ends. While not interjecting herself into the lives of beloved friends and hated enemies (categories that appear uncomfortably similar, most days), Empty Tidings searches the Multiverse for allies in her quest to return Creation to the hands of its rightful masters, seeking to overthrow the current order of the world in the process... and she thinks she might have just found the right people to help her do it.
|Defining=Glimpse the Black Mirror:
The Shadow of All Things teaches that to properly oppose an enemy, one must learn to fight as that enemy does.
Power Copy - 2: Empty Tidings is capable of copying the abilities of individuals she has observed. While she may adjust the aesthetic of a copied ability, Empty Tidings cannot directly create light, and instead alters relevant power displays to themes of shadow and darkness, save for incidental light (such as from a copied fireball).

Mirror's Jagged Edge:
The Ebon Dragon delights in taking advantage of an enemy's weakness. Empty Tidings prefers to create one where none existed.
Debilitation: Empty Tidings is extremely skilled in making people's lives miserable, debilitating her opponents through spiteful curses of weakness and misfortune, awful poisons created in her own body, or by simply physically crippling her foes with her bare hands.

Disguise: Further, she is able to create illusionary disguises, altering all aspects of her physical appearance. This also allowing her to change the supernatural "flavor" of her powers' aesthetics and leave pre-defined false readings for lesser attempts to scan her or divine her true nature.

Wild Card - 1: Empty Tidings can warp oaths, agreements, or contracts, one parameter at a time, which then applies to all standing iterations of the agreement. She could warp a security card (being a contract of access) to count herself as a valid beneficiary and pass checkpoints and inspections, or alter the terms of an enemy mercenary's contract to fight for her (if she pays), but cannot compel people themselves, so volunteer guards or unorganized highwaymen would not be valid examples. This benefits herself retroactively (she was "always" in on it), but not others.
|Significant=The Infernal Monster:
Empty Tidings is a master of Infernal Monster Style, a savage form of martial arts intended to create suitably epic monsters to oppose equally legendary heroes.
Weapon Mastery - Hand-to-Hand: Empty Tidings is a master martial artist, specializing in using her fists, feet, and pieces of scenery to brutally grind her opponents into sticky red paste with improvised and excessive levels of ultraviolence.
Superior Strength: Empty Tidings' physical strength is incredible, allowing her to smash down stone walls with her bare hands, crater terrain by plowing her opponents into it, or even fling people absurd distances through the air whether they want her to or not.
Mobility: Empty Tidings is able to traverse all manner of terrain safely, from running up walls to leaping from branch to branch. She's also able to traverse the surface of any liquid, no matter how hazardous, as long as she remains in motion.

Favored of the Ebon Dragon:
Empty Tidings serves the Shadow of All Things in a capacity as both diplomat and saboteur.
Wild Card - 2: Debilitation: Empty Tidings can forge supernaturally bindings oaths, where breakers of said oath are afflicted with a pre-agreed curse which levies a form of punishment at least one of the parties involved could inflict at the time of its creation, or else one of her debilitating hexes of misfortune the next five times they engage in dangerous situations.
Entry Methods: Empty Tidings is skilled in infiltration and espionage, encompassing lockpicking, blending in, sabotaging security, etc. She can briefly transform into shadow to slip through cracks, temporarily open man-sized holes in a wall, or (loudly) force open all entryways in a building.
Improbable Defense: Empty Tidings is capable of reflexively dissolving herself and all she carries into tarry, writhing shadows, reforming herself nearby once a threat has passed. Powers and attacks that are explicitly bane to the profane are incapable of being avoided in this manner.

Beloved of Kimbery:
Empty Tidings loves the ocean like a creature from its depths, no matter how often the Sea may bring her woe.
Water Functionality: Empty Tidings effectively treats bodies of liquid as air or empty space when upon or submerged in them, turning "swimming" into high speed flight, ignoring hindering resistance or pressure, and allowing things like lighting fires. This incidentally makes tasks like fishing or sailing easier in many cases.
Healing - Self: Her attunement to the root of all seas also allows her to regenerate like something from its depths, recovering from minor wounds quickly and filling major damage with organic matter resembling sea life until it has properly healed later.
Mind Manipulation: Empty Tidings can alter emotions in herself and others, turning bonds of love into hate or similarly reversing emotional ties.She can also compel observance of a sort of diplomatic immunity, preventing others from taking hostile action against her and her allies as long as they remain peaceful.

Green Sun Princess:
Empty Tidings is a loyal servant of the true masters of Creation, and is blessed with certain advantages as a result.
Wealth: Empty Tidings has amassed a significant amount of wealth through clever sale of black market goods, accumulated tribute, and simple and forceful ill-gotten gain. She is able to draw on it wherever she goes through means both sorcerous and mundane.
Attack List - Ranged: Empty Tidings is capable of doing harm at a distance using conjured means appropriate to her patrons' purviews (such as poison, acid, water, darkness and cold).
Share Powers: Empty Tidings may temporarily share her abilities with her allies when she has some sort
|Minor=Lesser Threats Scorned:
Some trivialities are too minor for an Infernal Exalted to concern themselves with.
Resistance - Disease: The extreme toxicity of Empty Tidings' blood renders her immune to mundane diseases, though tailored bio-weapons and sorcerous plagues remain a concern.
Resistance - Poison: Empty Tidings' toxic biology similarly provides immunity to non-magical poisons as the lesser substance is simply absorbed harmlessly into the greater.
Low Intake: Finally, by rapidly eroding a nearby corpse into essence-infused breath, Empty Tidings is able to breathe normally in any environment for the span of a day.

The Bureaucrat From Hell:
In this case, it's literal.
Skill - Bureaucracy: Empty Tidings is extremely skilled at navigating complex, alien, or even deliberately obtuse or obstructionist bureaucracies with casual ease.
Skill - Linguistics: Empty Tidings' skill in analyzing and manipulating written language (including the ancient or obscure) to decipher meaning and intent, or to create complicated contracts, instructions or even prayers is immense and well-practiced.
Oration: Empty Tidings is well-versed in etiquette, protocol, and courtly behavior, and is a force of personality besides. She is an excellent socialite and has a great deal of experience ingratiating herself with strange or foreign subjects.

Unwoven Coadjutor:
Empty Tidings plays host to a minor, bodiless demon that has been shackled to her soul: Three-Part Tragedy, one of the Chrysogonae, or "Crying Women." It occasionally proves useful in supplementing her skills.
NPCs: Empty Tidings is able to call on demonic and mortal minions to perform tasks for her or fight on her behalf (read: die for her amusement). While they are not particularly powerful, Three-Part Tragedy offers her frequent advice in how to best utilize their skills.
Knowledge - Demons: While Empty Tidings is not a savant specializing in esoteric lore, she is well-versed in the nature of the denizens of Hell and of many similar entities that fall into that same category from other worlds. Three-Part Tragedy fills in the gaps in her own knowledge.
Analysis: Three-Part Tragedy grants Empty Tidings the ability to focus on a person in her line of sight and see the presence and details of any sworn oaths and obligation she may then manipulate. Using this power causes her to weep uncontrollably until she stops her examination.

Primordial Reinforcement:
Empty Tidings' exposure to the energies of the world's creators have left her more than human.
Extraordinary Senses: Empty Tidings' perceptions are supernaturally acute, allowing her to see through mundane forms of visual impairment (such as darkness or fog).
Agelessness: Empty Tidings is and will remain eternally young and strong... right up until she reaches a point around a century and a half and abruptly drops dead of old age. She is not aware of this particular complication with her longevity.
Resistance - Maiming: Empty Tidings' right hand has been converted into a demonic artifact equivalent, making it functionally indestructible. This quality (and resistance) does not extend further than her elbow.
|Disadvantages=Epically Overbearing <Trouble>: Empty Tidings is a creature of emotional extremes, growing attached to beloved friends and loathed foes with uncomfortably equal intensity, and with little room for anything in between. Her friends are treated exceptionally well, certainly, but they are expected to go to great lengths to comply with her unreasonable demands on their time, resources and patience. She will often inject herself into their lives without warning, making "helpful" adjustments where she feels they'd be better for it and dealing with perceived problems with all the awful power at her disposal and with little sense for scale or propriety to boot. Those that react to her affections with scorn quickly earn her enmity, flipping her from warm and cloyingly sweet to cold and bitter with equal intensity. After that has happened, she is just as quick to prove that Hell hath no fury like /her/ scorn, derailing her own carefully-crafted plans and processes in favor of vengeance. Empty Tidings assumes friendship until otherwise proven, though she reacts to immediate dismissal somewhat more reasonably than apparent acceptance and then "betrayal," making it a much safer bet not to get involved with her in the first place... but maybe not an easier task.

The Ophidian Urge <Significant>: Empty Tidings is branded with a villainous Urge, a motivation that drives her to serve the goals of her masters. An Ophidian Urge is an urge to corrupt; in her case, to turn the power of those who defend the world against darkness to her service. Acting against this Urge -- for example, by working with do-gooders without taking the opportunity to subvert their goals, or enabling the defeat of a force of darkness rather than strengthening it -- gradually increases the displeasure of her masters until she suffers a punishment known as Torment. When so Tormented, Empty Tidings is stripped of all moral restraint for a full day and forced to engaging in her favorite vices, most commonly those involving the catharsis of unrestrained destruction and violence. The relationships she's built aren't safe from this Torment, as its very nature means that Empty Tidings will undoubtedly wish to drag others along on the ride... a desire she is very capable of fulfilling herself.

Acts of Villainy <Significant>: Empty Tidings is capable of delaying the onset of Torment from her Urge by performing acts of almost stereotypical (or, in the case of the Yozis, one might say "prototypical") villainy. These acts are always in some way detrimental to her own well-being, typically by necessitating she not take the most expedient route to solving a problem or removing a foe from the equation. For example, Empty Tidings may reveal the full scope of her grand plans to a captive audience or leave an enemy dangling on the precipice of a slowly-descending death-trap. She may also deliberately alert her foes to her presence to draw worthy enemies to her, or do something to otherwise show a capable opponent how much she "cares" about their arch-rivalry, such as kidnapping their lover and sending her back to them piece by piece. Leaving a hated foe alive so that they may suffer at her hands another day (rather than dispatching them and removing their interference entirely) will also suffice. Needless to say, taking advantage of her necessarily-villainous acts is the realm of plucky young heroes the world over... much to her chagrin.
}}

4948/Book Ratturn

2016-12-29T07:28:55Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2016/12/29 |Location=Maw of Tyrants |Synopsis=Skaven attack the Library of Exclamation, a sacred place to Inconsequentia, Goddess of Sidequests. Pe..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2016/12/29
|Location=Maw of Tyrants
|Synopsis=Skaven attack the Library of Exclamation, a sacred place to Inconsequentia, Goddess of Sidequests. People object.
|Cast of Characters=1088, 1086, 518, 626, 42, 8, 325
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1088|Vatol Halftail (1088)}} has posed:''' When the Multiverse got rearranged, the fabled Library of Exclamation got moved. It did not get moved to a terribly hospitable place. Its librarians like to keep it safe nonetheless, and it seems like there's been some trouble up there... The library is a looming stone brick building standing on forbidding bluffs that looks like it might have taken architectural cues from a mix of gothic churches and greek temples. There are a lot of pillars, a lot of arches, and huge, circular stained glass windows in aesthetically pleasing places all over the place. It's pretty solid, all in all. It's also half open to the air when it really shouldn't be. It looks like a doll house that has been split open into quarters, unfolded in a massive M-shape and then rotated near the top. Staircases lead to nothing, or to upper floors that abruptly terminate and resume over a chasm that shouldn't be there. Bookshelves come apart in the same ways, some between volumes, some across the middle of them. Things are all twisted around like a Rubik's cube got randomized. It makes navigating it kind of tricky, even if you can fly. The warp gate is in a fountain-filled plaza at the bottom of a pathway leading up to the front doors, which presently stand without any walls on either side of them. In the middle of the plaza is a grey stone statue of a woman, long-haired and robed, with a stone sunburst behind her head. Her hands are outstretched, cupped, with a tablet resting in them. It reads:                               Brave Adventurers!                                            PATHUS OF FOUL PEAK, leader of the SACKRAT CLAWPACK,                             has invaded the sacred LIBRARY OF EXCLAMATION!                             Deliver his WEEPING BLADE, and you will be rewarded by                                 INCONSEQUENTIA, GODDESS OF SIDEQUESTS!                     Seems pretty straightforward: beat bad guys, deliver proof, get loot. There /do/ seem to be a few shadowy figures moving around up in the open sections of the library... 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer Almasy is feeling Pretty Good right now. He's made the last plans for his upcominmg date, he's reserved some restauraunt seats for possible spontaneity, he's looking into some apartments in Grand Dorado, and he has a 'dog with all the toppings from some local stand that tastes so good it puts the cafeteria to shame. Yep, quitting SeeD and killing Odin are looking like the best decisions he ever made. He's in a *great* mood. He hasn't been in a mood this good since he got to buy the last hot dog right out from under that chicken-wuss's nose right in front of him.      Wait, no, that's a lie. *Eating* it in front of him, *that* was the best he'd felt before.      That mood abruptly comes to a screaming halt as thoughts of a hot redhead turn to processing his surroundings.      "The hell?!" Seifer demands, whirling around and spilling some relish on the floor. "Who's gettin' funny with me?"      "HEY!" he shouts at the shadowy figures, "HEY YOU! WHICH WAY'S THE DIMENSIONAL INTERVAL? HOW DO I GET OUTTA HERE?"      "YOU! YEAH-" t The words QUEST ACCEPTED burn themselves somewhere in the air. Seifer jerks backwards. "Wha-"      "Hey I didn't sign up for this! Hey, hey! I...ah, screw it."      Seifer takes a big bite of his hot dog and walks over to look up at the woman. He reads the plaque.      "The hell is a sidequest...?" He mutters to himself. "I don't get it. 'm I supposed to beat this Pathus guy up?"      Chomp. Chomp.      "Y'know what? Aight. I can do this. HEY! I AIN'T GOT A LIBRARY CARD BUT I'M PROBABLY GONNA TAKE SOME BOOKS FOR A GIRL! YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH IT, YOU DEAL WITH YOUR RAT ON YOUR OWN!"      Seifer dusts off his hotdog and draws Hyperion, cracking his neck. "You think you can find your way around a library?" He asks the thin air.      Silence.      "Great. You just remember where we started." 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     The great Library of...     Kuran Yuuki was certain Hanabusa said he wanted... some book, from sme library. Things had gotten so confusing, and terribly complicated that when she found herself outside of the fractal library building, she took it in stride. "Well! This is certainly a library." She notes, hands akimbo on her hips, before looking up at the fountain and statue of INCONSEQUENTIA.     "A... reward? Well, that'll be convenient. I'll just get the sword, and wish for the book I need."     This is the best plan, nevermind the scuttling shapes or beady eyes in the distance. "Inconsequentia... That's kind of an add name? Oh well."     Onward, to bumblefuck! "Oh, Mister Almasy is here. This should be easy. Mister Almasy!" She calls, waving. "Do you need a book too?" 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      "I guess so," Seifer says to Yuuki with a shrug, "Or the books need me, or somethin'. T'be honest I stole the only book I'm ever gonna need from the Garden library a while ago...really I'm here for, uh, some stuff on...I dunno, smithing an' shit?"      He shrugs.      The book he stole is The Sorceress's Knight, because of course it is. 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:''' "Keep it down!"     Kyra Hyral, who had actually been in the library the whole time, looks up from her table and her huge stack of books seated next to a very obvious tablet computer. She gives Seifer and Yuuki some pretty intense glares that suggest she's going to start throwing books if they don't immediately shut their big yaps.     She seems absolutely oblivious to the invasion of PATHUS OF FOUL PEAK because where she's from, there are always suspicious, cloaked things lurking around in libraries. They're usually the tonberri librarians and she doesn't mess with those.     "It's a /library/." she says, "Come on, guys." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     The Multiversal Reshuffling somewhat pushed aside Staren's quest for holiday gifts. Friends are understanding, but still, he feels bad about that. So today he's taking some time to go searching the Multiverse for places to find books for Twilight and Ainsley that they might not have seen yet. Hearing news of a library he's never heard of is good too -- maybe he can't exactly give away the books, but surely they'll appreciate a place with new books to read all the same! So off he goes to check it out     The Library of Exclamation is in a dangerous area, so Staren shows up in his armor for the initial visit... and steps out of the gate to be confronted by a Quest. He shrugs and looks around...     And there's That Guy who showed up in Lumiere last time, and That Girl who showed up to the evil amusement park!     "Hello again! Oh, you too? There are a lot of girls who like books, huh?" SMALL TALK ATTEMPT: Seriously, what did you even just say?     "Oh hey Kyra, it's been awhile! Man, with all of us here, we should have this Pathus guy no problem, right?" 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel had head about the Library of Exclamation and alwauys intended to visiut but with the unierse blowing up like this?It has made it even harder the basic thankfully wouldn't even need to take out any book. She'd just need to see them once but the keyblade using program would fin there's an problem as she exits the warp gate it seems there is trouble ahead. "...I knew it wouldn't be that easy." A goddess of side quests if she wnated to go foeward? She had to and she looked ot the others as they arrived. Yuuki, Seifer? They were mostly nnew to her, Kyra was a happy sight though to se and STaren wasn't too bad. "Right lets not get into too much trouble, Kyra? Also hey staren." Yuuki and Seifer get a greeting from the basic. "Greetings organics, my ID's Deelel it's good to meet you." 

:'''{{#var:325|Rhapsody (325)}} has posed:'''     Herein we find another crazy-stairs painting in which the very laws of physics have been picked up, shaken, beaten, robbed of their lunch money, and left for dead on the edge of what is clearly a DANGER ZONE. No, there will be no music, nor blue angels. Just chaos. So why, one would ask, is Rhapsody here? Because- WHY NOT -That's why.     When Rhapsody sets eyes upon the library, the statue, and the message upon it, she just glares at it a moment, then looks to those that have also shown up for Reasons Of Their Own. "The only way this could be more obvious is if there was some giant glowing punctuation mark hovering over it, but I think the multiverse hasn't quite broken -that- much. . . . Yet." 

:'''{{#var:1088|Vatol Halftail (1088)}} has posed:''' For no apparent reason, there is a pair of vending machines by the front door. One sells a variety of soft drinks. The other one sells 'Throwin' Thangs,' which apparently includes baseballs, dwarven boomerangs (they're bent straight), and six-packs of cherry bombs. There is a rack of pamphlets nearby about supporting the local economy for a world that is clearly not this one. Something moves around the opposite end of Kyra's table. Ears poke up, and then beady eyes looking over a ratlike face. There's a hood on, and a cloak with it, and it's moving very, very slooowlyyy... ...and then abruptly snatches a book out from Kyra's pile. It wobbles and topples, spilling across her tablet-space, her, and the floor. The Skaven thrusts the book into what looks like a big ol' loot sack and sprints away, rushing off around a staircase with his tail trailing behind him. A voice comes from... somewhere. It's hard to tell; it's echoing. Shadows from torchlight play across the walls on the far western split of the library, and more hooded rats with shoulder-slung bags rush into sight. They scale pillars up and down, scattering throughout the library and grabbing things apparently at random. "Take-take the tomes!" shouts a rough, vaguely squeaky voice. "It must be here somewhere!" Seifer can see a hanging sign to his right. It reads 'ARTS & CRAFTS' with an arrow pointing further in. There's a commotion over there audible from here, and some kind of angry growling and chittering. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Kyra basically shushes him. Seifer remembers that this is a library, and scratches the back of his head. "Sorry," He mutters. Man that doesn't feel right. That Guy shows up again, and Seifer gives him a look. "I guess so. I was tryin' t'be thoughtful and stuff."      Deelel gets a long stare from Seifer and an exchange on the radio with Yuuki and others. Rhapsody, the same. He's not quite sure how to deal with BLATANT NONHUMANS yet. He had a heck of a time with foxgirls. That was weird enough. BLATANT NONHUMANS are...like...a whole other level of weird he's just not prepared to deal with now. "Uh, yeah. Seifer Almasy. Hi."      But he's distracted from this by the muttering and noises. Seifer points with Hyperion and jogs forward, taking point not because anyone asked him to but because it's just logical for the guy with the sword-gun to do so when nobody else appears armed. Slow and stealthy is not really his thing, but it's a good distraction for other people.      Seifer flicks Hyperion over to ranged attack mode, emerges from between the shelves, points down the range, and fires just over the shoulder of whatever might be down there. "Hey! Stop right there!" he shouts.      Then he covers his mouth, swears quietly, and hisses, "stop right there" in teeny-tiny whisper letters. 

:'''{{#var:325|Rhapsody (325)}} has posed:'''     Chaos. Mayhem. Rats. ALl of these things belong together, but none of them in a library. Maybe a jail cell. A Rakdos jail cell especially. A Rakdos jail cell during a havoc party even more so. "Just what is-" And then it becomes clear. They want to steal ALL THE THINGS. That are books! "HEY! You don't steal from libraries! You can just borrow what you need! IT's KINDA HOW LIB--" she winces, remembering, "It... it's how libraries work...!" Whisper yelling just.. does not work.     As the gun-blade guy goes rushing in, the dragony dragon guildmaster isn't far behind him. The state of the library, however, gets a wince from her, "If there are any 13 sided dice floating around in here I am leaving.." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren nods. He's trying to be thoughtful too!     Staren is armed! There's a laser rifle strapped to his back! Although, given the surroundings, he decides that perhaps ranged combat is to be avoided. He wouldn't want to hit the books!     As Seifer hunts down rats, Staren peeks around the shelves behind him and then goes running down the next row -- planning to either ambush whatever's there from behind, or to just leap over the shelves at it! 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel was just trying to be polite after all it was rude to assumne everyone was a program given how rare they were in the multivese and given organic life was the most common form of life in the sector? It was the safest bet. Though she seems to have got Seifer to Blue Screen of Death a little which wasn't intentional on her part at all and soon she's falling into step with everyone. She hears someone calling out to get tomes nd she takes a moment to look about the libaary trying to get an ids of what's here or if there might be anything else about given the voice? Something was up and she's always armed one way or another if there was trouble. "Oh hey Rhapsody I didn't epxect to see you here and ... what? How does a die like that /even/ work??" 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:''' "That's better." Kyra nods to Seifer before pausing to facepalm at Deelel and Staren. She's about to yell at them both too, half considering packing it up and heading to another section of library when...!     Some DIRTY RAT, which is NOT A TONBERRI, comes in and snatches one of her books and spills her stack over the table. With lightning fast reflexes befitting of someone born in Ramuh, the city of storms, she rescues her mPad before it is buried under a pile of heavy books that would have SURELY cracked the screen to the expensive device. Fury creeps into her face and she stuffs her tablet in her back, throws her bag over her shoulder, and immediately takes off running after the rat-man that stole her book.     Library silence immediately is thrown out the window, "GET BACK HERE WITH THAT! I WASN'T FINISHED WITH IT!" She pursues the Skaven, chasing after him to that staircase, working a hand under her hoodie to grab ahold of one of her many guns. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki is about to say things. Many things! To address the rather odd elephant in the room - 'r-really, we're gonna greet each other by going HELLO <Othering Terminology> HOW ARE YOU, AS I ESTABLISH WE ARE NOT THE SAME AND MAKE STRONG POINT OF IT' - but is cut off by the capers of Clanrats stealing books, and the presence (sights, sounds, smells) of yet more deeper in. "There sure are a bunch of them..." She murmurs, though nodding to Kyra's 'QUIET DOWN, JERKS!' quickly, she shuts up, stifling more comments.     And then Kyra is off like a shot, shouting and pursuing!     With a rather startled look, Yuuki does the best first thing that pops into her head. "Oh, ah, let me help you with that!" She calls, after Kyra, and follows her in at a gentle jog. "I'm sure we can reason with them. It's not like the statue outside asked for anyone's head!" 

:'''{{#var:1088|Vatol Halftail (1088)}} has posed:''' Seifer's shot goes over the shoulder of a pair of Skaven presenty embroiled in a conflict over a book. The book in question is bound in metal, with a title reading 'THE WORD OF KRONG - A TREATISE ON ANVILS AND HOW TO USE THEM by KRONG, GOD OF THE FORGE.' It also hits one of their bags, because they're huge and nearly impossible to miss in those quarters. The shot ricochets off something else inside of it, hitting a stone on the ceiling and bouncing a /second/ time to inexplicably strike a chandelier above them. It wobbles, jerks downward, and then falls completely off, dropping between Seifer-side and rat-side. They, of course, run like hell. One of them still has that book, too -- which isn't the one that gets cut off by Staren. The sack-rat barrels into him, lightweight but moving fast, and then the huge, heavy bag over its shoulder hits its back and sends it tumbling. It keens, making a high-pitched sound that normal humans wouldn't even detect, but one that seems to travel very, very far. A pair of Clanrats suddenly leap off a split balcony above Staren, dropping towards him with notched short swords and armor in a mix of scrap pieces of leather and chain! They're going for the stabbin', that's for sure, all while their loot-focused companion tries to scramble up onto the bookshelves to get away! Kyra's pursuit of that particular sackrat finds it rapidly descending stairs behind the up-stairs: an L-shaped staircase is set into one wall, with a railing running alongside it but not the gap towards the lower level. It's casting furtive glances over its shoulder while it tries to get away, each one more fearful than the last. It squeaks in a panic, reaching into the sack and flinging whatever it can find at her. A brass candleabra gets tossed her way, followed by a hefty brick of a book with a picture of a horse and a crowned silhouette inside a stenciled heart on the cover. Yuuki might end up getting clobbered by an incredibly specific romance novel if Kyra is quick enough to escape its wrath! ...and she might just detect a pair of other Skaven higher up, lurking in a reading nook in a gap on the floor above, pointing a long-barreled rifle of some kind downwards towards the stairs they're pursuing the sackrat towards. It's clearly waiting for a shot. Deelel, meanwhile, heads towards the voice. It sounds like it's maybe coming from the western side of the library and down low. There's a bunch of shapes moving in the darkness over there; the lower stacks look a lot more tightly packed, with even more narrow spaces between shelves and less illumination all around. There's a couple broken staircases to get down, but Deelel will have to do some platforming to make it unharmed. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Oof!" Staren bumps into a rat with a bag of books! "Hey, listen, this is a library--" he starts to lecture, but they're running and then he's being accosted by rats wearing scraps of armor. "Seriously? Look, just leave, okay?"     Staren steps between the skaven and the bag o' books, unclips a cylinder from his hip, and then swings for their swords to emphasize how outmatched he hopes they are, activating the plasma saber just before impact for extra surprise. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      "heyyyy" Seifer whispershouts, "heyyyyy get back here with that"      "heyyyyyy you stupid rats"      "heyyyyyyy"      Seifer, instead of running off after them, climbs up the bookshelf. He dodges one of the weird moving books, slings himself up with raw physical might (aided by Guardian Force JUNCTIONING), and starts running after the rats in the least safe but most dashing and fantastical way possible: over the actual bookcases, because hallways are for suckers.      Seifer cocks the gunblade again. "heyyyyyyyyy i need that book for my date"      "stop where you are or i'll shoot you"      "a bunch"      "it'll hurt"      Seifer bounds over another bookcase, levels Hyperion over his arm, and fires at the legs of the rat carrying the book, trying very hard not to shoot anyone else coming in, like Staren.      "hey be ready," he whispers to the air, "i might need you." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel didn't mean to be annoying to Kyra, archives on the grid don't quite have the same rules as a Libary does in meatspace and she seldom gets to go near them. She is however going to follow the voice and mabe she'll be able to find some thing out about what's going on. She'll apologise to Kyra later for now she's having to make like it's back home and doing osme serious platform action. She'll leap, from her to there as she attempts to make her way pas the broken staircases and to contiune tracking the strnge voice. She didn't draw a weapon yet as she's too focused on getting across and also trying to keep tabs on where everyone else was. She didn't like where things were going however. 

:'''{{#var:325|Rhapsody (325)}} has posed:''' "hey ... ! stop ... !" That's what Rhapsody whisper yells before the chandelier comes crashing down. "That was really loud you know!" the dragon yells before trying to figure out how to cross. Rather than waiting, the guildmaster takes a few steps back and then tries to lunge over the crashed light fixture, "STOP ALREADY!" she yells before pulling out the red spell blade. The weapon is pointed, and then, (it may appear that she's copying Seifer) the blade fires off a bolt of lightning at the fleeing skaven. At this point she just looks over at Seifer, "They're already making a racket! Stop whispering! I think we're past that now!" 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      "it's a library" Seifer hisses, "an' that girl said i should stop yellin'"      The fact that Kyra broke that rule is irrelevant; it directly prompts Seifer's flaws. 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:''' Althought Kyra hasn't shot up with a Haste mixture, she seems pretty fast on her feet. As if she's had experience chasing after thieves before (like SOAN). She clambers down the stairs, gaining on the rodent man with each step before she finds herself slowed as she ducks beneath a brass candleabra that was just hurled at her. She nearly takes the follow-up book to the face, instead it crashing into her chest and being caught in her arms. This knocks the wind out of her for a few moments and slows her down. She scowls and throws the book over her shoulder before continuing, finally working one of her guns free. Fortunately, it is a needlegun. She pulls out the appropriate dart afterwards, this one filled with a wonderful Sleep mixture that she happened to have on hand. Once she finds herself with a clear shot, perhaps through a long hall of stacks or a non-windy staircase, she takes a shot at the rat man. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki continues down the perilous passage of partially-walled and barely-followable geometry after Kyra, who is trained in Final Fantasy Adventure School of Following A "Straight" Path after someone. You know the ones! Even if it's awful, broken ground, you can just run straight after the Obvious Plot Guy as everything goes to hell!     Kyra has practice in this, and Yuuki's intense normalcy gives her a chase disadvantage. "Wa-..." She almost shouts, before remembering it's a library!     "Come back!" She stage-whispers, which is more or less useless. She has to hustle and finds that her low jog isn't keeping up with scrambling rats. It does, however, let her see some danger.     She reaches over to a nearby shelf, and takes a handful of books, checking the spines quickly before starting to hock them at the rats waiting in ambush. "Get down from there! You'll hurt yourselves or others!" 

:'''{{#var:1088|Vatol Halftail (1088)}} has posed:''' Staren cuts through their short swords without much effort, leaving the clanrats to hold truncated pieces of metal. They stop and look down at them, then at one another, and then at Staren. There's a weird kind of pause. As if on cue, both of them reach into little bags and pull out tiny round things. They back up and start flinging them at Staren, handfuls of cherry bombs going off while they pelt him with a seemingly endless supply of them. Did they raid the vending machine?! Those /vermin/! Seifer, on the other hand, leaps on top of bookcases and starts chasing down the rat-fink what took the shiniest possible book he could get to progress his romantic dream. The sack-rat glances back and promptly panics, jumping up onto a wall and scrambling upwards. He gets shot in the leg, shrieks, and then promptly gets struck by lightning, all the hair on his body standing on end as he falls from the wall. It twitches and sizzles. Rhapsody might be proud of the handiwork, or offended by the smell. The jezzail team sees a better target, though. It changes aim, losing interest in Kyra and Yuuki and aiming over the bookcases. There's a crack of gunfire, and a Warpstone slug flies over the tops of the bookshelves and at the gunblade-wielder on top of them and in the open. He might not appreciate getting hit by something magically radioactive, armor-piercing and explosive in all the worst ways. They're about to fire a second shot from a second gun when books start hitting them. They shout in irritation and start to throw the books back at Yuuki, two of them at first, until she gets lucky and knocks one out with a lucky hardcover to the face. Some of the titles are pretty weird, though: 'Questgiving: An Underrated Profession.' 'Twenty-One Ways to Attract Adventurers.' 'I Am A Viking Wizard And You Can Too.' And of course the old classic, 'The Head of Vecna: Myth or Magic?' This leaves Kyra clear, though. The sack-rat turns down a long, narrow corridor and rushes towards an intersection, giving her a moment at the bottom of the stairs to shoot it in the ass with a sleep dart. It stumbles and falls down, tail sticking up and then settling, snoring underneath the enormous sack of loot. Books slowly slide out of it onto its head. The snoring just gets more muffled. Now she just has to get down there and find it! Deelel continues on. She sees shapes dart between shelves, climbing up and over them and rummaging through titles. They don't notice her, or maybe they're preoccupied with other things. She comes to a more lit-up corner of the room, where a shelf and a wall sconce has tumbled into a hole in the floor that leads down into darkness. There's a little fire going over there, totally unintentionally, and rat-men are climbing up and down it, carrying loot out under the watchful eye of a heavily-armored, black-furred Skaven. He hasn't spotted her just yet. One of the sack-rats stops near him. "Is the boss back yet? We're running out of sack-sacks." The armored rat looks down his nose at him, and jabs him with the butt of his glaive, growling. The sack-rat makes a worried noise and retreats into the tunnel. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren looks between the rats as there's an awkward pause. Is this farce going to end now?     BANG!     Staren stumbles back from the force, ending up sitting on the sack of books. He's tense, ready to dodge out of the way, when he realizes his armor is barely damaged. Are they using... fireworks or something?     His forcefield comes up, the explosives slowly chipping away at it -- it handles the distributed shockwaves of explosives better than the point impact of bullets, it seems.     Staren is about to dodge to the side when he remembers he's on the sack of books -- they'll get blown up! He can't have that! He stands up, bracing himself against the force of the explosions pushing him back, and after about a second, says, "Alright, that's enough!" and clips the sword's hilt back to his hip and draws a Federation phaser from his bag, dropping the field to try and stun at least one of the rats in the split-second before more cherry bombs reach him and detonate! 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      The book has to do with Seifer's dreams of romance, but it has nothing to do with his romantic dream.      It's still impeding him following his hormones, though, which is very important (though not EQUALLY so).      Also, he just got shot with some kind of horrible mutating stone, which is a lot more pressing than trying to score points with his future date. Seifer stumbles with the shock of somebody who just, well, got *shot*, looking down to touch his chest. Blood is spilling out onto his white coat, and through the new bullet hole in his white coat. He grasps at the hole. He pokes it, like he can't believe it.      Seifer is the kind of guy who believes, to quote a truly excellent piece of fiction, that if God himself descended from Heaven with a shotgun next to Seifer's head and pulled the trigger, *God would miss*.      Not to mention the itching, agonizing burning the warpstone is generating all the way through. It's not as bad as it could've been, because Gilgamesh's power is making Seifer a *lot* tougher than he'd normally be, but 'it's not as bad as it'd normally be' merely takes it down from crippling to agonizing.      "AhhhhhhhhHHHHHHH!" Seifer screams, clutching his chest and falling to his knees. His vision blurrs.      He still manages to fire off a few shots, but he's hazy. He's gonna have to end this in the next strike. He stands and goes running again, heedless of the pain he's in. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel sees the shapes now moving about she can pause to get an idea of what they are and finally she comes on a group of ratmen. She's had no experiance with the Skaven, it's a lucky thing for her and the rats. She does't know the horror of fighting the endless horde of man rate ot hte horrors they like to unleash upon hte world. For the rats she doesn't know what they are so she does have some resttainedbut she sees them they ae clearly looking for things at this point. She now does something foolish as she doesn't start attacking she now attemps to get a better look and to listen in a bit longer before she tries to reveal herself to thee mystery ratmen who bear no real visual likeless to Faruja... 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:''' Kyra gets her shot off and she finds herself exceptionally pleased as the mixture works quite successfully. But suddenly, there is a GIANT PILE OF BOOKS BLOCKING HER WAY! Well fortunately, she doesn't have to run any further and quickly reaches the book pile. She can hear the ratman snoring beneath the books and pauses. "....wait, what title /did/ he take...?" she wonders aloud before digging through the pile, pushing books aside until she can grab that big sack she saw her stolen book get shoved into.     Once she has it, she plops down at the base of the pile and starts picking through the sack, looking for anything that she could have been reading. It was probably a sidequest-related tip book. 

:'''{{#var:325|Rhapsody (325)}} has posed:'''     FRIED RAT. Nice, but not so nice when the smell hits her. "Ugh, bad idea, bad id-" then Seifer is basically screaming, over there. It's enough for the guildmaster to get a bit upset, "Alright, seriously, ENOUGH!" she roars, firing off the other -five- charges into whatever scurrying rat she can fire at. They aren't very well aimed shots, though. "ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! DROP THE BOOKS!" 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Unlike the Jezzail team's sniping pair, Yuuki is not trying to kill anyone or anything, though the sharp scent of familiar blood hits her nose. She knows the owner, and frowns...     Seifer. He sure did like getting in trouble, didn't he? He almost reminded her of a much more honest with himself (if spacey) Zero. And she had a big place in her heart for people like Zero.     However, she had been trying to pointedly ignore her sense of smell in this place, because right now it smelled more of decaying paper and dust.     And rat poop! Basically awful.     As she throws her books, she starts slowing down. "An Abridged History on the Plus One? Spell Components - The Power of Bat Poop?"     She drops the books. "This isn't just any library!"     She scowls, a tangible aura swelling around her as she starts looking annoyed. "This is a /specialty/ library!" 

:'''{{#var:1088|Vatol Halftail (1088)}} has posed:''' Staren drops his force field to fire, one of the Clanrats hitting the dirt instantly. The other starts to run, but Rhapsody's /lightning fiesta/ catches it before it can get far. In that instant, though, something else is upon him: another rat, sans the man part, huge and dropping from above and landing on his back. It bites into his armor, clinging to him. There's a weird hissing noise, like a... fuse? Yes, they /absolutely/ tied explosives to a giant rat. Staren's got about three seconds to figure out what to do about this problem before he goes on a magical adventure straight through a floor. Seifer's shots go wide -- mostly. One clips the second jezzail-rat, glancing off of the breastplate it scrounged from somewhere and spinning it around in the reading nook. It staggers, fumbling to reload its gun, which... well, it's a muzzle-loader. It's going to need a minute. It gets to putting in the powder charge right about when another dose of dragon-delivered /lightning fiesta/ heads that way, setting off the charge in its face and pitching it over with a decisive 'whump.' Kyra finds a lot of books in there, and a bunch of shiny things used for reading books. Titles include 'Necronomeconomics 101,' '50 Recipes for Dungeon Dieting,' 'Intermediate Rangefinding,' and, perhaps oddly, 'The Doom of Kavzar.' There's probably a dozen tomes packed in there, though, and there's not much space, and there's that scratching noise... ...scratching noise? Scratching noise, like from nails on wood. There's a creak as weight settles on old shelves behind and above her, and a cloaked figure leans off a shelf like a rat-man with some kind of monkey genes. His left hand and one foot keep hold of the shelf; his right hands hold black-bladed short swords, dripping some kind of liquid onto the stone that sizzles when it makes contact. Yes, 'hands,' as in 'he has an extra arm on that side. PATHUS OF FOUL PEAK drops down from his perch, stabbing his paired Weeping Blades (two?!) at Kyra with a trademark growl of, "Die-die, man-thing!" From higher up, Seifer and Yuuki can see him, but in the dim light... it might be hard to make him out from that range. That gets the attention of the Stormvermin and the sack-rats by the hole in the ground, keeping Deelel mostly in cover. The sack-rats scurry faster, while the Stormvermin yells down the hole, "Send up the little ones," waving a hand at some unseen rat below. There's a scurrying and a lot of squeaking, and... brown. A carpet of brown, rising from the hole, and rushing off into the stacks. Rats. Big ones. Lots and lots of rats, a veritable swarm -- and they're coming for Deelel! 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Get off me!" Staren shouts as he feels something clinging to his back and hissing. He reaches back with an armored hand and tries to pull it free, finally flinging it to the ground in front of him.     There's just enough time for him to see the explosive and recognize what it is. It's almost comedic, really.     The armor prevents the shockwave from pulping his body, but doesn't stop the raw force of the explosion from flinging him through one bookcase and into another, sending both falling to the ground.     "Urrrrrggh..." he groans as he climbs out of the bookcase and gets to his feet, surrounded by the damage this fight is doing. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel goes for the disc on her back as she sees that she's now got rats coming after her. She mutters about osmething called grid bugs and knows tht ohters re now fighting in the libary with the rat men. She held off too lng and may now be paying for it now. The humm of the ID disc can be hear as she throws it into the horde of rats the letal cutting edge is lie and it will bounce about hopefully getting a number of them as she leaps up into the air and back a bit. "So grid bugs? Tch come on lets's see if you got some game!" She calls out as she catches the disc and throws it again. 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:''' "What the...dungeon dieting? Is that even a thing?" Kyra laughs, putting that book aside, though pausing as she sees "The Doom of Kavzar". "There we are, that must be it." She concludes before a chill travels down her spine at rasp of metal on wood. She looks up, following the sound of the creaking before she suddenly sees the cloaked figure dangling from the shelves, carrying a corrosive sword.     /Two/ corrosive swords. With too many hands. "EEK!" she squeals, snatching up her gun and firing upon the thing as she scrambles backwards, the weeping blades whistling through the air and making contact against the girl's arms. She squeals out in pain from the edge and the following sword's enchantment, blood immediately staining her white sleeves.     "SWORD GUY WHERE ARE YOU??" Kyra calls out, book tucked under one arm loosely, one hand grasping herself as she fills the stacks with the bright green glow of her healing magic as she fixes her wounds. "HURRY I THINK HE'S GOT FLESH MELTING SWORDS!" 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer may not be able to see, but he knows he's missed. It's that instinctive knowledge somebody who's used to shooting can just *tell*. He's missed, and it's annoying him. Even as Rhapsody takes out the other rats with /lightning fiesta/, Seifer is still annoyed. He shouldn't've missed that.      He needs to plug the wound. He's losing blood.      As he moves, Seifer jams his coat into the wound on both sides. That'll staunch the bleeding, as long as he doesn't pull it out. He's moving to get a better shot-      -and then Kyra calls for his help.      Seifer wavers. On the one hand, he really wanted that book to present to Lin. He was pretty sure that it was better than flowers, taking an interest in a girl's hobbies and passions. On the other hand...a woman was asking for his help from a monster.      Ah, screw it. Seifer knew what he had to do. He wouldn't be a proper Knight if he did anything less.      Blue light manifests in his hand. An orb whirls into being, spinning and pulsing with power. Seifer jams the orb into his sword, which immediately starts to hum - musically, as it generates actual notes of music hanging in the air around the blade.      Seifer dives dramatically off the shelf, the blade in both hands, and falls towards the rat threatening Kyra.                        JUNCTION: OPERA SINGER --> ATTACK                                                 LIMIT BREAK: CRISIS MODE LEVEL 2                                                           CURTAIN CALL                                        Seifer brings the opera-charged blade down on the rat's head. The gunblade goes off not with a BANG but with a glorious musical pitch, like a singer. Seifer lands, his coat whirling about him, inverts the blade, and drags it up through the rat again, pulling the trigger midway through. Another beautiful note rings out. He steps forward, past the rat, dragging the blade to the side; more music. He whirls in front of Kyra, levels the singing gunblade, and jams it directly into the rat's jaw. A final, incredibly high-pitched note sings out as Seifer draws the blade out and whirls it around, the musical notes disappearing. He turns away from the rat with a flourish and a bow. Roses fall to his feet as behind him (conspicuously directly over the rat), an inexplicable but extremely heavy curtain falls.      The roses and the curtain vanish a moment later. Limit Breaks are weird.      "Whenever a lady's in trouble," Seifer says, brushing his cheek with his coat and turning back to face the rat, "I'll be there t'save 'em."      "C'mon! If you got any fight left - just try an' get by me!" 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Breathe. Deep breaths, in and out.     The smell of rat and blood fills her nostrils.     Think happy thoughts! Happy!     The soft curve of a neck, the taste of hot, fresh...     Yuuki Kuran is Havin' A Problem. As things get worse, she just sort of tries to retract into her own world, to calm down. It's fine. It's okay!     It's just a book.     Just... A book.     Yuuki manages to get her shit under control just in time for the quest monster whatever to... Get basically trashed on by Seifer? Huh, Seifer was pretty brilliant when he was motivated. "Seifer!" she calls. "Grab the swords!"     In the meantime, Yuuki moves to assist Kyra. Poorly. 

:'''{{#var:1088|Vatol Halftail (1088)}} has posed:''' Staren is presently in some wreckage and left alone by the rats around, who assume he got blown to pieces. There is an open book next to him entitled 'Housecats And How To Fight Them: A Wizard's Manual.' Every page is blank. Deelel's disc ricochets, cutting a few of the rats up. The rest surge onward, flowing up shelves and across the floor in their hunt for her. The frantic squeaking gets the Stormvermin's attention, who expected it to go elsewhere, and he steps into sight, drawing a wheellock pistol and firing a booming shot of Warpstone down the narrow space between shelves at her. "Man-things!" the Stormvermin yells. "Bring-bring the books!" Kyra finds the wounds burn /awfully/. The venom on this thing is corrosive as well as horribly poisonous; she'll need an Esuna and maybe an extra Poisona to get rid of all of it. These must be the Weeping Blades the statue was talking about. Fortunately, an easy kill is something that PATHUS OF FOUL PEAK can't take -- the shot from Kyra drives him back with a stagger, and Seifer moves in with... with... ...opera? The three-armed rat-man fights with a fury. Seifer's Gunblade meets the Weeping Blades with musical ringing, the Skaven's counterattack fierce and bloodthirsty. He gets hit, though, again and again, too focused on the offense to mount much of a defense, one of his blades knocked out of his grip while he stabs with the other. Seifer's last thrust hits him in the jaw, and there's a flash of black un-light and an acrid scent from under his cloak as something burns a horrible green. The blade glances off, cutting shallowly. A disk of some kind of greenish rock, hot to the touch and glowing faintly, hits the stone floor and cracks. Some kind of cord has been wrapped around it, but it's cut cleanly. It disappears behind the inexplicable curtain. When the odd effect is gone, the Skaven is, too. There's a hint of tail fleeing towards the hole in the ground. The other rats are all following, running away and abandoning most of their loot. One of the Weeping Blades is left behind, embedded in a bookshelf. The endlessly dripping venom is eating through the shelving. Yuuki, were she not Perfectly Normal, could smell something like strong medicine mingled with the scent of blood coming from that side of the room. Deelel, once she's dealt with the rat swarm or escaped it, will note the Stormvermin is gone, too. 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:''' Honestly, Kyra didn't even know if calling for the sword guy was going to work. He had a sword-gunblade to be specific. What she realizes now, as he comes sweeping in with ha gorgeous, flower-filled special attack, is that he's not just a guy with a sword. He's a certified Knight class. It makes her forget about her suffering for a moment as she looks on, sparkly-eyed.     Her poisoned wounds keep her from swooning after he makes that final cheek-brushing pose. "Oh~...oh, oh right, ow-" she knows, right away, that just a Cure isn't going to do it. Her flesh is literally melting, necrosis eating away at her until she halts it with an esuna. In fact, she casts /two/ esunas just to be sure.     SShe grins as Seifer's attack is enough to drive the rat-man away. Unaware of the quest, she doesn't take the blade for herself and instead stands. "Hey sword guy. Um. Thank you." she says with an unashamed grin on her face. "Oh, yeah, you're gonna need this-" Without much further warning, she drops a Cure spell on him as well. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     'Housecats And How To Fight Them: A Wizard's Manual'? Staren sucks it up with the matter manipulator for later perusal. Then he runs to check on the others, a bit unsteadily, partly from the terrain and partly from having just been exploded. His armor's dented all over the front and has some cracks.     He leaps down to the lower floor with the aid of energy wings, landing by the rest of the party.     And... the rats are gone, and one (1) Weeping Blade has been left behind. He'd be concerned if people are okay, but Kyra seems to have that well in hand.     "So... I guess we win?" he gestures vaguely at the sword. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer is like *right* about to fall over before Kyra heals him. He's got *just* enough wherewithal in him to notice her dropping a Cure spell, and that snaps him out of his haze. The spell, not him noticing.      "Huh? You use Para-Magic?" Seifer asks, "Are you SeeD?"      That's probably some words Kyra doesn't know. Seifer does offer her a hand nonetheless. "Seifer Almasy. No problem. I ain't the kinda guy who can let a lady get hurt."      Seifer scoops up the book on forging and tucks it under his shoulder, then sheathes Hyperion and grins at her. "Thanks for the heal. Thing felt like it was settin' my insides on fire."      "I guess we turn in the sword or somethin' like that?" 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:''' "Nah, that was just magic-magic. White magic. And no, I have no idea what you mean by 'seed'." Kyra finally stands herself up. "You're a Knight, right? With that technique, you have to be a Knight." she says with a matter of fact conclusion, only to pause, "Burning insides? Oh, right, you'll probably need this too."     She casts esuna on Seifer as well just for good measure. "Can't be too careful around rats. Vermin vehicles, all of 'em. And you're welcome." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren grabs the sword. "Guess so. Uh... I guess we bring it to... the statue?" He heads over that way. "What's a SeeD? And Para-Magic?" LATER:     Staren retrieves the book from the Matter Manipulator and opens it. Every page is blank except the last, which reads:                                      Don't.                                     

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel says "I am not a man!" Deelel feels a bit miffed about that one but she is doing a good job clear the floor more come at her and she keeps throwing her blade and trying keep themback thankfully she's been able to deal with the swam but she does pause where did the rat in heavy armour go? He somehow got away and now she has got awya but she's a bit banged up there's a crack here or there on her body as she puts her disc away. 5R "Wht the glitch ... was tht about and does anyone need help?" She'll be trying to form back up with everyone else. What a crazy night... 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      "I ain't a knight officially, but it's part'a my romantic dream. Maybe someday I'll tell ya 'bout it." Seifer rubs the bridge of his nose and looks away.      He appreciates the spell visibly. "Thanks."      He pointedly doesn't answer, because Garden *is* still a secret and these people *aren't* part of his faction. He may not have any loyalty to Garden, but he's not gonna just throw them under the bus.      "So, uh...the hell were these things?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "They looked like rat-people." Staren comments on his way to the statue. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     "Rats?" Yuuki offers, around the same time Staren does. She looks much more calm and normal now. Perfectly Normal, even! Thankfully she didn't flip out over books.     It was, in fact, reminding how dumb it'd be if she blew her lid about books.     "I don't think my book is here, but it's alright. Seifer, you can go ahead and... I don't know... Play cards for the reward? I'm going back home. I /definitely/ need a shower. Good night, everyone!"     Then she wanders off the way she came. 
}}

2670/Half A Space Hulk

2016-11-30T01:36:38Z

Binary:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/07/23
|Location=Callidus Amicae
|Synopsis=A bug hunt happens on the Callidus Amicae. Actual bugs may or may not be involved.
|Cast of Characters=833, 571, 834, 632, 42, 796, 7, 518
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' The Callidus Amicae is, in plain terms, friggin' enormous. Five kilometers long and nearly a klick wide, the cruiser exists on a scale so large that it's hard to believe there isn't a city in there -- because, with a typical crew size of nearly a hundred thousand men, there pretty much is. In fact, the Callidus Amicae's crew complement is a good deal smaller than that, and takes up a lesser amount of space as a result. That is, in fact, the crux of the problem. A missive was sent to the Union and to the Syndicate once the Callidus Amicae had stopped at a waystation in the distant Void of the Multiverse: they had a problem, and would you care to help resolve it for a fair amount of pay? In truth, Captain Hexam could have had his men handle the issue internally, but that would not get their name out there. They needed people to know who they were and what they had to offer before profit could be had. That is, after all, the name of the game. The waystation's warpgate lets out near the space-dock where an Imperial spacecraft is waiting: an Aquila Lander, a small winged shuttlecraft named for its resemblance to the Imperial sigil. The multiple engine vents that run up the wings come together to give it a distinctly feathered appearance. Three individuals wait outside: two man in black and grey carapace armor carrying short, boxy-looking rifles and wearing full-face helmets with an almost skeletal design stand to either side of the entry ramp. Between them, a more feminine figure with hooves rather than feet waits, wearing a dark green and white jumpsuit and holding some form of tablet. The tall, blue-skinned Tau woman raises one hand when the prospective mercenaries (and allies, to boot) enter the hangar. "Greetings! I am Vre'Yan. I will be ferrying you and your equipment to the ship." She smiles, an expression that looks slightly odd with the lack of a nose and the Y-shaped slit running between her eyes and onto her forehead. "I will also attempt to answer any questions posed to me, despite that being far outside my realm of expertise and this being /quite/ well-known, at the Commander's request." Her smile becomes a touch more forced. The two troopers exchange a glance behind her. One shrugs a little. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     As the SGB Crimson Spectre makes it approach after emerging from a warpgate, the crew is greeted by an ENORMOUS ship. Maaka and Kaz stare in shock as they make their way to the waystation itself, landing not far from the warpstation.     A ship of this size in their world would've cost innumerable resources and funds, as well as take the better part of a century to construct...and yet the Imperium seems to have so many of these they lose track of them.     Maaka takes one more look at the ship itself, before she begins to get the big guns.     She arrives with her helmet currently unfolded, and her EM-GASH coilgun slung over her shoulder as well as her Kama P40 pistol and a PDW to accompany it. As the cyborg approaches the tau woman, her head bows before she speaks. "I worked alongside one of your people before, though she was an Exalt if I remember right. We'd taken an investigation to this ice world, nothing too notable about it." She says conversationally, lying through her teeth regarding the truth of the matter in those caves, where Dark Eldar were shredded to bits by Necrons, one predator destroyed by an even worse one.     Even thinking about the Necrons sends a chill up the normally stoic Alexis Maaka's spine.     Passing that thought away, she asks, "So what exactly is it that needs our help this Commander can't send his own troops to deal with?" Not that she's complaining, even if it is curious, but one has to get known somehow in the Multiverse Alexis supposes. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Why is Valentha here? Well, any opportunity to get out there and learn, get -her- name out there, figure out who's who and other factoids is one worth taking. So she's come in her ridiculous getup, the inside of her jacket stuffed with all sorts of gear and gadgets.     "Well," she begins smoothly, "Some info on whatever's got the ship tied up would be a good start." Valentha plants a hand on her hip, letting her slightly impish but merry grin do more of the speaking for her. "I'm loaded for bear. Demigod bear, even."     Not that she looks it. Not even SLIGHTLY. 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Before she'd left her own ship behind, Septette had ensured her cloak was wrapped snugly- though not too snugly- around her angular frame, that her ear-fins were inconspicuously tucked under a pair of cute and moderately-fluffy earmuffs, and that her reactor core wasn't leaking ionizing radiation again. These 'Rogue Traders' seem like open-minded folk, and they'd know who she is with even a cursory background check, but there's no sense in standing out any more than she has to.      Now that it's time to board, Ms. Arcubielle allows herself a little smile: it isn't often that she's one of the least-intimidating people in a room. "No questions here," she replies in a sunny, synthetic alto before turning her attention to her teammates. "Demigod bear? Them's fightin' words, Valentha," the robot girl murmurs with tongue firmly in cheek. "Could rustle up one or two of them back home, should this mission disappoint ya." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Holy..." Staren breathes, after stepping up to a window at the spacedock and seeing the distant ship they'll be flying to.     He's seen Transformers the size of cities, but a spaceship that size?     It's incredible.     His more immediate destination is the small ship to fly them /to/ the big ship, though. Staren approaches. A spaceship with feathery wings? Interesting aesthetic. He looks over the alien curiously, but she doesn't seem that unusual for the Multiverse. He nods and retracts his visor, "Greetings, I am Staren, researcher of problems for the Union." He holds up his right forearm and taps one of the beam cannons on the side with his left index finger, smiling a bit. "And sometimes, assistant with 'solving' those problems." He lowers his left arm while making a vague, palm-up gesture with his right. "So, your ship has... unwanted passengers. Are any specific threats known or suspected? Is this an extermination mission or do you think there might be a society there we can reason with?" He shrugs, "Or do you just not know?" 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah tears herself away from staring at the area. Especially the huge warship looming in the distance. The multiverse never ceases to be weird. She looks the female Tau over for a moment as if sizing her up, then steps up to ask questions.     "What kind of environment can we expect in the ship? Is it pressurized? Also what kind of opposition should we be expecting?"     She pauses to take a breath. "And who the hell build something that freaking huge anyway? Corporations don't even usually go that big.. It'd take a completely unified society to even manage the resources for something like that." She pauses a moment, "Either that, or a civilization of religious zealots." She shivers at the thought. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa had got the job it was an interesting offer and she'd been curious to meet O'Mont're Tyr. So here she was she was clad in stealth gear. She'd considered bringing full out carpace armour but that would limit her moblity some. She did however make sure to be wearing a nanofiber vest under her stealth gear though. That was some wonderful beefed up protection she'd found. She nods to Vre'yan. She grins a little bit. "I do given the scale of this ship is there some sort of guest access I can get to it's local network given my area of skills it would be helpful if that is premitted." No the poor dear has no idea about how things work on a Imperium ship. "I won't press but also anything about the local tech and such that I'd need to know would be useful." She's got several weapons on her most of them look like they would be Autoguns as the Imperium calls them but she's packing a odd looking energy weapon also across her back. "Came prepared for about anything myself." She's also got a case carrying something else in it which is unknown for the moment. "Damn that ship could likely bring most of my home world to heel....Oh! I'm Kotone Yamakawa!" She notes to their host. She also looks over to Septette and Sarah. "Hey good to have you aboard." She also looks back to Alexis and will attempt to open a network with those people like Alexis that she's worked with before. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki Kuran, High School Girl, Totally, We Swear, arrives at the designated waystation, in a pair of... Trousers. Well, ok, they're dark blue jeans. And a nice belt! A button-down white shirt. She's got nice cuffs, and the shirt is tailored in the hems, cuffs, waist, and collar, and there's a silver chain with some form of crossy-thing pendant on the end. She looks... really well put together!     She's also wearing a snapback cap and a dorkily huge pair of sunglasses, giving her a sort of 'celebrity/person who doesn't want to be noticed' vibe.     "Ah, yes, hello. I'm Yuuki. From the Union. I'm, ah... I think that's the biggest thing I've ever seen in my life. And it... not only flies, but can move between worlds?" She asks, looking up (through her sunglasses) into space.     She smiles brightly, looking at Vre'Yan. "Oh, um, I didn't know what to bring, so I just brought myself. I have my own weapons, though!" She notes. Though, compared to everyone else...     There's a silver cylinder of a very short baton hanging from her waist.     "... I feel a bit under-armed though. I'm happy to help, though!" 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' "Ah. I see." Vre'Yan nods her head to Alexis. "I have been informed that there have been Tau in the wider Multiverse, but I haven't met any." She tips her head to each of the Elites as they approach; it seems like most of the questions are actually pretty similar, so she starts in on them. "The Callidus Amicae is in good repair thanks to our Void-Master Hiird and the tireless, ceaseless, loud, smelly, incessant and," she changes her tone back to the positive rather than the irritated, "/effective/ maintenance of the Adeptus Mechanicus tech-priests aboard. You should not lack for oxygen, even in the less-inhabited parts of the ship. If you do encounter a depressurized chamber, report it and it will be repaired as soon as possible." /That/ part she seems serious about. "And," she asides to Sarah, still deadly serious (maybe a little more than necessary), "the Imperium is all of these things. This is one of many thousands like it. Please keep that in mind." The two marines exchange glances again, and then just go back to watching them. They give the impression of rolling eyes behind opaque helmets. She bobs her head at Yuuki, attitude brightening some. "Yes! It uses warp engines to propel itself through a dimension the humans call the 'Immaterium,' allowing it to cross great distances very quickly. There are some dangers inherent in this method of travel, but the speed is worth it. But, oh, if you require a weapon, we have a great number. Simply ask one of the marines when you are aboard." "There are no networks as you know them aboard the ship that are not dedicated to drone control," she says to Kotone. "I am not permitted access to those; you would have to ask one of the Earth castes or the Void-Master. I do not recommend it." "As for opposition..." Vre'Yan looks down at her tablet. "A number of maintenance drones have gone offline, and the Hruud technicians sent to repair them refuse to enter the sector of the ship they are housed in. One of the tech-priests went below with a marine escort, but never returned. Commander Deathgaze believes it is a matter that can be handled internally, but Captain Hexam wishes to build positive relations with the Multiverse at large, and thus, offered this chance at employment." "While we suspect it is some manner of large vermin," she adds, "it is not outside the realm of possibility that there was a minor daemonic incursion following the last trip through the Warp. It is very unlikely, however Confessor-Militant Kor is prepared to join you if you believe it necessary." She looks back up. "Time is wasting. We should go." Vre'Yan turns and boards the shuttle. There are seats inside for everyone, but she goes to the cockpit. The two marines wait until everyone is aboard before they follow. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah gets a very sober expression on her face as it's explained that the ship came to be frighteningly close to the way she imagined. She doesn't seem to feel the need for any extra gear so she starts moving, drifting towards Septette and Kotone as she moves to board the shuttle, They're the people she knows best! She also gives a friendly wave to Yuuki, as she looks the most out of place. "Hey! Come join the cool kids!" She offers with a mischievous grin. "So.. we're after either giant rats or demons.. sounds like a fun night." 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     "And also incredibly overly likely to fight itself rather than focus on external problems." ALexis deadpans to Sarah, before listening to Vre's briefing. She nods, logging all of what Vre's been going over dutifully.     Daemons give her reason to frown, and she ponders whether or not she'd be able to live through the risk of daemonic corruption, even if she is half-cybernetic really.     "We'll keep it in mind, ma'am." She says, before glancing to Yuuki. Weapons wise, she isn't sure if the girl would be able to use anything on the cyborg's person, sadly. Ah well, it'll work out.     She also pops her neck, joining the 'cool kids' club as well with a little laugh, ruffling Kotone's hair. "Let's hope it turns out an exterminator is needed, I'd hate to see the alternative." The cyborg adds to Sarah, grabbing a seat and checking the scope on her coilgun while she waits. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "So whatever's in there, was enough to take out this marine escort... do you know of any threats that could do that? How large and well-equipped was this particular escort?"      Staren has questions still, as he heads into the ship. 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Everyone else has asked the pertinent questions, as anticipated. Septette isn't going to waste her (metaphorical) breath on trying to wring further information out of their gracious hosts. Nor is she liable to fawn over the spaceship they're headed to: yes, it's larger than any vessel she's ever seen, but unlike most organics she's capable of visualizing exactly what 'five kilometers long' looks like. The enormous ship is more or less exactly how she'd envisioned it from its description.      So without further ado, the little robot walks up the ramp- at five feet and a bit, she's dwarfed by the marines on either side- and climbs into a chair near the back, pulling her clawed feet up onto the seat and crossing her legs. "You'll be alright, miss," she says to Yuuki. "If anything, I think the other folks here are considerably overprepared." Despite that, there's a nagging worry in the back of her head as she looks over her teammates...      Septette isn't worried about being corrupted by daemons: they're remarkably similar to the creatures that she was built to fight, from what information she's been able to glean. But the others here... they're squishies. Capable squishies, from everything she's seen thus far, but squishies nonetheless. They may need to be shepherded carefully...      For now, she lets Staren and the others do the talking, merely resting her head on a wall and soaking up all the tactically-useful information she can. Half-formed plans dart through her mind already, honing in on vague eventualities. But she needs more data first, and it's likely to be more than the Tau can provide. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Hearing that a squad of MARINES was brought down has Valentha looking Vre'Yan's way VERY sharply aboard the shuttle. It's time for additional questions. "Daemonic incursions? So it sounds like the inside of the ship is not well monitored. No security programs warning of breaches or unusual activity?" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa has not met Yuuki before and takes note of of her she seems nice enough. She doesn't assume anyone here is underarmed Yuuki may just be modest. She now settles in for the ride at this point. She makes note to map their trip on the ship and tag any places like that. She then gets a bit of an eye opening respoinse. "No control network but how could you ...wait are you saying the entire thing outside of your drones analog?!" She's clearly wide eyed at this but seems to be accepting it. "I understand then, I won't do so. I understand about needing to keep drone security." She listens and isn't liking the sounds of this. "Look if we're dealing with something like Daemonic beings? Having someone along who knows how to deal with them is welcome in my book." She's on the shuttle now strapping her self in and is generllly looking the place over. Analog? Everything here might be analog? How do they even get a ship that big to /run/ on that. She finds her hair's riffled and she nods to Alexis as she joins up with Sarah and Maaka. "Hope so, just some alien vermin would be a pretty nice change of pace from what I have encountered lately. "I'd presume they'd be decently armed if they were going with a VIP like a Tech Priest, right? "Everything's not networeked at least as I understand it sounds like they rely on a lot of manual work. Then again this prevents them from being vunrable to a lot of info warfare tactics." 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     "Wow. That is quite amazing!" Yuuki notes, big starry red-brown eyes behind her sunglasses filled with wonder. The world /was/ an amazing place, and not dark and dreary and horrible at all! She heads towards the shuttle, settling on a quiet sort of hopeful.     "Well, that shouldn't be too bad. Well, okay, it /could/ be, but... She gives a nice hopeful look. "That ship's so big they certainly could be lost, and still alive." She knows she's being ultra-optimistic, but she's got this Thing where she really does want to see the best in people and circumstances until things take a horrible tone-shift into HORRIBLE.     It's coming, she knows it, she can feel it in her Normal Girl Bones.     "Though, I have a question. What sort of vermin? Like... big... rats?" She asks.     Oh sweet summer Totally Human child... 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Vre'Yan closes the ship up and takes off. Getting out of the bay is a smooth process, handled by an experienced pilot; getting to the ship is accompanied by a distinct feeling of acceleration, followed by a sort of impromptu fly-by of the starboard side of the enormous vessel as the Tau pilot does a little showing off. One of the two armored men answers the question. Vre'Yan's accent is sibilant; his isn't, but he speaks in a bit of a drawl. "Five-man fire team; shotguns with shipboard rounds." He reaches into a pouch attached to his armor and fishes out a shell, flipping it to Staren. "Wire, glass, bits of ceramite -- the kind of thing that won't puncture a deck but'll do a number to anything made of skin 'n bone they find down there. Tech-priest probably had a laspistol or something, if he was even armed." "Rats? More like hrud, if you ask me," the other mutters. The first leans forward and hits the other with his free hand. "It isn't /hrud/; the Void-Master's got them under control. Naw, you're looking at something bigger than him," nodding at Staren, "with claws /this/ big," he gestures about the width of his shoulders, "that like to hide in the dark and drop offa ceilings. We picked a few up on Omin Apsalus Prime for sale. Maybe a couple got loose." A shrug. The transport pulls into a docking bay. It slows to a stop and then drops to the deck with a lurch and a whine. The ramp drops again, and a number of ship's marines stand waiting, armed and equipped like the two with the group. On their left, a formation of what must be Tau in sleek, curved armor and mono-eye helmets wait, long-barreled rifles held at ease. Their armor is the same shade of dark green as Vre'Yan's jumpsuit. Commander Deathgaze himself stands between the two groups, wearing armor like the other Tau but lacking the helmet, and with a greatcoat worn over the top of it. He's carrying what is clearly a chainsword at his hip, and a pair of mismatched pistols along with it. "Welcome aboard the Callidus Amicae," O'Mont're Tyr says. "I am Commander Deathgaze, first mate of this ship under Captain Hexam. I will be accompanying you on your mission. My men will secure the area behind us, to ensure our entry into the lower decks does not loose anything that may be waiting for us. If you require any additional supplies before we make our entrance, make your requests now." He turns his head to the left and nods. The two groups of infantry turn and spread out, starting to disappear into the vessel. Only a cursory guard -- five Tau and five humans -- are left with him. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren listens to the marines intently. He nods at the description of the rounds they use. He doesn't seem particularly worried by large-clawed space drop bears. "We can proooobably handle something like that..." but he's not willing to promise with 100% certainty.     After COmmander Deathgaze asks if they have any other requests, Staren has a thought: He raises a hand, "Excuse me, are there some test targets we can fire our weapons at to confirm whether any are at risk of puncturing a deck? We might require alternate weapons than those we brought with us." 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     As Alexis inspects the magazine on her coilgun, she overhears the discussion of the guards and frowns. Definitely time for subsonic and low-power loads alright, she was smart to bring both. She dials down the output on her rifle before she whistles sharply at the marine, "Hey, what guage are those shells? I might be willing to pay for a couple cases of those and a shotgun to go with it if you can get to the quartermaster." She says, looking at the shell curiously. "Might help to get on that quickly before we go hunting, most of my kit was designed for much more powerful loads, even if I've got most of this stuff dialed down."     Hopefully she'll get her hands on one of said shotguns, considering the tight quarters of the ship and the circumstances of the hull. Keeping her weapons slung on her person, she joins the rest of the crew with Deathgaze. he seems a charming sort for a...blue cow man with hooves, all things considered. "'s why I asked, Staren." She asides. 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Tyr," the robot says amiably as she disembarks the transport vessel, assuming that he already recognizes her from the job application and radio chatter. Strange that she doesn't use his title, given that he just provided it a moment ago- though her tone and demeanor would indicate that she intends no disrespect at all. In fact, she gives him what might be a curtsy after leaving the ramp.      "I have everything I need," she asserts with a self-assured tone, despite the fact that she's only carrying her cloak and a leather pouch hardly big enough to hold a packed lunch. "That said, is there any way that you could reversibly vent the relevant sections of the ship to space? If I'm not mistaken, a hard vacuum would hurt most vermin considerably more than it would hinder us." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     The phrase 'Shipboard rounds' echos through Sarah's mind, and she makes a mental note not to go wildly throwing her hammer around. It could breach the hull as easily as gunfire and leave a much larger hole. Unfortunately in her mind, that's the biggest danger. Vermin, Hrud and Daemon are all just different words for monster as far as she's concerned. She has zero experience with Daemons or daemonic corruption.     She nods in agreement with Septette's question. "That seems like a good first step. the fact that they called us in suggests we're dealing with something a bit bigger than rats. Something that's not all that bothered by vacuum." 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Valentha snaps a playful salute off to Tyr! "Valentha Summers, Techno-Wizard. And mercenary for the moment. Pleased to finally meet you in the flesh, Commander Deathgaze." She's still not armed. Or armored. But apparently this isn't bothering her at all.     But she's fine, and requests nothing further. She does spend a considerable amount of time going over gadgets inside her jacket and hooked to her pants, among other places. She has weapons, no doubt about that. Although the main one she pulled out looks like an old six-shooter...     "So we're the vanguard! All the excitement's on us. We'd best take it slow and careful. ... Otherwise, someone's gonna lose a head. Corridors like these can be deathtraps." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa has no idea what a Hrud is but gets they can be a problem but the crew seems to have it under control? She thinks that's enough. She looks over the marines and listne to their gear load outs. "I'm carrying some heavier weaponry I and hello Commander Deathgaze. We meet in person at last. I'm Kotone Yamakawa." She seems to be looking over the Tau and humans that make up the fire team that will be moving with them. "I'll keep to my lighter weapons unless it's needed then." Though Staren and Alexis idea to get better suited weapons if their are a problem might be a very good idea. Either way she's about ready to go. She gives Sarah a nod and looks over to Valentha for a moment. "By the number don't split up and cover eachother." The blue haired lady seems to have some experiance with this. She also takes a moment to open the case and a pair of small hovering drones deploy, nothing fancey just mobile cameras. She'll have to thank Rory yet again about having a fabber to work with on small projects. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' The marine glances at Alexis. "Ten-gauge," he says. "Got these from an Arbites supplier. Quartermaster should be able to supply you." "Yes, of course. Here." Tyr nods at Staren, and then turns and gestures towards the marines. A couple of them run off. He smiles slightly at the people he's actually spoken to, inclining his head. "I am glad to be able to put faces to names." Then, Septette's question. "It would need to be done manually, from the maintenance shafts connected to the deck. Imperial vessels are not known for their advanced electronics." Five men come back where two left. Two are lugging a big metal plate, which they setup across the hangar; two others have a box between them, which they put down for the fifth: a hooded, white-robed individual, whose eyes are clearly mechanical replacements and who seems to have a number of wires or tubes running from his neck and head to somewhere under his robe. Some might get an impression of things moving underneath, which the robes keep very well-concealed. (Septette may feel a kinship with this man.) "These," he says in a reedy voice, as the marines open the case, "are Vox Legi-pattern pump-action shotguns. They are normally used by the Adeptus Arbites in fringe worlds; however, the Captain has graciously acquired a large supply for shipboard use. They have been cared for with all the requisite rites and blessings, and are here for your use." Six round magazines, a stock that can be used as an effective club, and a very audible and intimidating pump action. They look pretty nice, all told. Test-firing on the piece of plating shows that small-caliber weapons won't punch holes in the walls, but the shipboard shells might be necessary after all if you aim isn't good. It's unlikely that you'll actually damage the hull armor, but there's always a chance you'll hit something vital in a neighboring room. "If that is all," Tyr says, "we should begin." The path to the below-decks leads into the main artery of the ship, with the enormous vaulted ceilings and the overblown baroque artistry wherever one looks. The door they're headed to isn't far away, and it's already covered by a number of well-armed marines and Tau warriors, who let them pass without trouble. The group gets a few stares, but they're a well-disciplined bunch of the most part, the Tau moreso than the humans. Tyr opens the door and steps through first, descending a metal staircase into a more dimly-lit section of the vessel. He stops at the bottom, where the corridor widens and extends onward. It's maybe fifteen feet high and wide, lacking some of the ornamentation of the other decks. The corridor extends forward out of sight, and with a growing number of sconces damaged, into deeper and deeper darkness. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Stepping off the ship, Yuuki smiles at 'Commander Deathgaze', pausing slightly to nod thougtfully, looking between the marines and the Fire Warriors. Nnnnnnneat.     She bows - low, and rather archaically - to the Tau First Officer. "Greetings. Yuuki Kuran, member of the Union and... Ah... C-concerned party?" She tries, hopefully. It's totally true, she's just a bit... Worried.     Dude's name is Commander /Deathgaze/. She is, in fact, pointedly avoiding his... mono eye? How does that work. "I won't, ah, die if I look at you, mmm?"     At the idea of being the vanguard, she nods at Valentha. "Yeah. I mean, I'd rather risk my neck than having other people risk theirs. I'm pretty confident in keeping mine. Not, uh, avoiding locking killer death-gazes with people, though. That's OK, yeah? Heh-heh."     She's starting to get the heeby-jeebies. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Ten guage, wood stock, tube mag and pump action? One might think Alexis is in love with these shotguns, as she takes one of the Vox Legi shotguns and shoulders the weapon with a nod. She begins to load a shell through the breech, then six additional shells into the tube magazine. Keeping the shotgun in hand, she takes as many shells as she can carry on herself, loading up little shell holders all over her armor for a quick reload.     Her shotgun flips in her hands once it's loaded, and she grins a little while offers up a hand to Tyr. "Alexis Maaka, of the Flotilla." A quick handshake later, and she folds her helmet into place without even touching it, the helm giving off little reving noises and the sound of the suit sealing up entirely just in case a vacuum comes into play.     She's content to be close to the front, shotgun readied, she snorts at Yuuki. "Only if you piss 'im off, I figure." 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      The sceptical robot does raise one eyebrow a fraction of an inch at the mention of rituals and blessings being used in the care of weapons, but decides to bite her tongue for now- cultural and religious discussions can wait for after the mission, no doubt. As the party begins to walk down the hallway, Septette glows more brightly to provide illumination for those without night vision, and switches to infrared sensors herself.      A few brisk strides later, she's at the fore of the merry band. Her arm-mounted blades unfold with a quiet snap, covering a good few feet on either side of her: anything trying to run past would find itself clotheslined on a razor-sharp sickle. "So," she asks Tyr- perhaps a bit belatedly- "where exactly are we headed? This is quite a large ship, after all. Splitting up and searching aimlessly could both prove disastrous at worst, and a waste of time at best. I assume you have some idea where we ought to go." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah gives Yuuki a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it's just an expression!" She says almost certainly. She gives the provided weapons a curious look, and though she seems impressed, they're not for her.     Instead she unslings her shield from her back and grips it firmly in her left hand, while the right goes to touch her necklace, which disappears and is replaced by a large Nordic hammer that seems like it should be too heavy for the girl to handle, yet she holds it in one hand without a problem. She then lifts a few inches off the ground, probably just to show off a bit. and hovers alongside Septette. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Into the darkness they go, and Valentha answers this by softly chanting and summoning up a wisp of a light. A simple ball of light that gives off a lantern light.     Having Nightvision herself, she does not need it, but others may.     She asides to Yuuki, "Well...." The mage slips back to put a hand on her shoulder. "Relax. Wait, no. Don't relax. But take a deep breathe. This is a good group. We've got things handled."     Hopefully. Really hopefully.     Her senses, of course, are quite open. If there's anything SPECTACULARLY evil around, she MIGHT feel it coming. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa bows slightly s the big metal plate comes up and she nods to them smiling a bit. "Thank you, this should help." Kotone looks at the man and gets a feeling he's very much like her. She seddles in her solid slug pistol and her blaster those are not an issue. the XCOM laser rifle actually is a bit of an issue as it does perhaps a bit too much damage here. She frowns and looks at her grenades. Yup she's going to chdeck those. She will however take the shotgun which was offered, she seems to know how to handle such. "I can tell they do look pretty well maintained." Tyr might have noticed something about Kotone something's a bit off not in a bad way, those little imperfections most humans have she doesn't seem to have them, something with her eyes and her motions are /very/ efficent. She'll also switch over her pistol which she was able to find some workable ship ammo for. "Ready to go!" She readies the shotgun and gets ready to move out her small flying drones? One keeps with the party, the other is going to scout ahead. She keeps an eye on Yuuki and smiles a little about her asking Deathgaze's name. She's feeling a bit creeped out. She's however already making a map, the drones are doing a good job keeping out of the way, but that's because Kotone's riding shotgun on them right now. She does however keep with Alexis whom she's got a good deal of work experiance with. She's also kept an eye on Septette as well. <<Good to go here, man this is like something out of a movie...>> 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren goes through weapon after weapon, testing beam cannons, beam swords, a laser rifle, and a laser pistol on the sample of armor plating, blowing it to bits and then blowing the bits into smaller bits. "Hrrrrmm..." he growls to himself. Through his cyberjack, he turns off the beam cannons so he won't use them accidentally, then stuffs his laser pistol and laser sniper rifle into his bag, pulling out the RAISER rifle and dialing the power waaaaay down, and the penetration to zero and slinging it over his back. A normal pistol and his missile pistol stick to the armor are put in holsters on his hips for quick access, and at last he pulls out a shotgun of his own, a pump-action design from Earth-1960. He might need the shipboard shells if lead buckshot is a problem.     They're led below decks. "Wow! This place is pretty fancy. It looks like a church! A giant space church.     Once they reach the dimly-lit section, Staren's visor rotates into place, and he turns on a light on his helmet, as well as a flashlight attached under the shotgun's magazine, and shines light into the darkness ahead. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah gives Staren an odd look. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to take one of the guns they had ready!?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren blinks at Sarah. "This one has an eight-round magazine. That's two more shots." 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Alexis gets a four-fingered handshake. "Thank you for coming. We will speak later of this Flotilla, if you would. The Captain is interested in it." Tyr dons his white (and only slightly green) helmet on the way down. It's more ornate than the rest of the Fire Warrior combat armor; there's gold chasing and Imperial aquilas adorning it (particularly the Rogue Trader variant with the skull and wreath), which don't really do anything practical. It does make him look simultaneously more regal and more menacing, though. He does turn to Yuuki when addressed, though, the mono-eye locked on her. "Have you caused harm to me or my crew?" He sounds grim and dreadfully serious. "Have you endangered those I am sworn to protect? Are you in league with the Great Enemy, and an enemy of the Emperor?" There is a long pause. "Then no," he says, in a gentler tone of voice, "you will not." Commander Deathgaze allows the Elites specializing in close quarters to take up vanguard positions. He seems comfortable with a spot in the midst of the group, drawing the shorter-barreled of his two pistols. This one, like his armor, also bears the golden Imperial eagle. The power pack, or what's visible of it, is bright red. That probably means something. He eyes the globe of light, remarking, "I would recommend avoiding a demonstration of your sorcery in front of the rest of the crew. It would alarm them unnecessarily." He seems less worried about Septette's appearance than the minor amount of magic-use. Tyr keeps pace with the group, nodding at Septette before scanning the area ahead of them. Kotone's advance scout-drone can see that the corridor extends on and on. There's an open side door a long ways up, though; the rest are all sealed. "I sent a scout team into this section before you arrived. They were instructed to locate the tech-priest's route, mark it clearly, and meet us at the entry-point. In point of fact..." A trio of Tau warriors fade into sight next to the door Kotone's drone found. Their armor is black as pitch and made of smoother contours than the other combat suits, with what looks like small jetpacks affixed to the backs. They carry shorter-barreled versions of the typical Tau rifle. The lead of the three salutes in a very human manner, but greets Tyr over his suit's radio as, "Shas'O." It's echoed across the common frequency to the rest of the group. "The route has been marked. We detected motion multiple times but did not see the source, and did not seek to engage, as per your instructions." "You have done well," Tyr says. "Return to the upper deck." The lead Tau nods, and the three move past the team, disappearing behind them. Tyr looks over the Elites, and then gestures at the hatch. "After y-" A grate flush with the ceiling falls. Three figures swing out, shadowy shapes barely illuminated by the ball of light up at the top of the heavily-arched hallway. They drop down with a rodent-like screech, one towards Valentha, a second at Septette in the lead, and the last -- having dragged its way across the ceiling -- throws itself right at Yuuki's head. They aren't quite as big as the marine made them out to be, but whatever they are, they definitely have enormous claws and really pointy teeth! 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     The Imperial iconography is enough to confuse the hell out of Alexis, but she does not dare speak. That can wait for later, when they discuss the Flotilla and all that jazz. She isn't opposed to talking further about that stuff, however.     It's still weird seeing tau loyal to the Imperium, but whatever. Time to get to work.     She doesn't need light, instead she activates night-vision as the group goes into the depths and light becomes less and less common. Making sure to remain close to Septette, she does let the android stay up ahead while she levels her shotgun. She keeps the weapon against her shoulder as she approaches the door. And then all hell breaks loose.     Her shotgun levels up at one of the creatures, the one leaping at Yuuki, and fires off a round. "GET BACK!" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren holds the Renegade Rangemaster at the ready. When the grate falls, Staren swings the gun up, but can't draw a bead yet...     His initial reaction is to shoot the one trying to grab Septette, since the yggdroid won't be hurt by friendly fire... then he realizes that that's really needless. Septette doesn't need the help. Valentha is powerful and can conjure a psi-sword, or maybe a magic sword -- he vaguely recalls reading about a spell that does that but the name escapes him. Yuuki, he knows nothing about, so he errs on the side of caution: He turns and charges, holding his shotgun by the barrel in his left hand while drawing his plasma sword, trying to make a quick stab and slash with glowing purple-white energy at the... whatever-it-is! 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Scarcely has the grate burst open before Septette tenses and mutters an incantation, despite Tyr's apparent distaste for sorcery. Its effect is immediately apparent: her already wicked-looking curved blades glow red with heat, distorting the air around them as they stir up convection currents.      She's never fought on a spaceship before, and these creatures come from a world she has never set foot on. Still, everything else about this situation feels deeply familiar to the Yggdroid; almost comfortable, even. It's just her and a small band of hardy adventurers fighting against alien creatures bent on spilling the blood of innocent people. Save for the scenery and her allies' equipment, this could almost be a scene from the Abyssal War.      So it should come as no surprise that her old combat reflexes kick in even before her subjective time slows to a crawl from those ancient combat routines. She trusts her companions to take care of the other two beasts, and anticipates the nearest monster's trajectory to lash out at its vital areas with almost blinding speed. Rather than retreat in the face of its attack, she digs her talons into the floor, hoping to use the beast's own momentum to help cut it to pieces! 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah was ready to rush to Yuuki's aid as well, but there's already at least two people set on blasting the thing to bits already. Septette's probably the most dangerous monster in the whole place, and she's on their side! She knows nothing about Val's abilities though, so that's the creature she dashes through the air towards. Mjolnir already crackling with lighting as she swings it at the thing. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa looks to Tyr for a brief moment as he speaks to Alexis of the Flotilla. "Oh he is we talk about that or even set up a meeting if the Captain's curious about it." She notes but she's moving ahead now as she gets the feed from teh drone she wees everything is sealed one way or another. She looks to the scout who are alive to report. That's good she watches as they get told to move out, but then something drops in. Kotone's reflexs are quite refined in responding to things like this. She opens fire with the shotgun on the thing. She's not sure what the hellish looking thing is? But she's not going to wait about to be eaten, she is also dancing back and she's not hiding at all how agile she is, either. "Xenofauna?!" She's going to save footage of these things to see if they cna ID these things later but that's only a brief thought for her givne how fast she can process information. As this fight ocntiunes she tracks the movments of Staren, Sepetette and the others to avoid catching them with the shotgun blasts. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     SPACE DROPBEARS drop in like TENNO SKOOM, going for the Totally Normal Girl's head, her large anime eyes, and her insistence on STILL WEARING SUNGLASSES IN THE DARK.     This doesn't actually seem to affect the highschool-aged anime in any way, as she raises up her hand, the metal cylinder in it extending in an electric arc to grow, somehow, into a long metal pole, simply multiplying itself into a long staff that she jams into a soft part - even the mouth - of her pouncing attacker, and send flying over her head, holding her weapon at the ready.     Staff? It's more like... a Scythe. Somewhere between 'implement for reaping grain' and 'organometallic power weapon'. It's got a kind of batty-motif on the scythe's head, and she had been using the blunted 'staff' end for tossing the monster over her. She twirls it once to reset it to a more useful ready position. "Wow. If these guys' hearts weren't so loud, and their blood so... rich and tangy and smelly, I'd never have noticed them!" She announces, panting slightly from anxiety. It's scary, being jumped!     Did she say blood?     "I-I mean, wow, they're pretty smelly, ha-ha-ha, can't anyone else tell? Wow, these things just dropped from the vents, Commander Deathgaze you really shouldn't have monster-sized vents!"     Good segue, Yuuki. Nobody will notice. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     "That's why we're all the way in here, isn't it?" Valentha cracks in response. She does kep the ball out of sight when others arrive, but unfortunately keeping focused on that leaves her just a BIT vulnerable. She looks UP when the grate's blown in and -- "HYAAAAAH!"     Instantly she's whipped out a little handle from within her jacket and thumbed it on. Well, it has THREE thumb-buttons, and her thumb's on a red one. There's also yellow and blue!     Red is apparently FIRE, because a FLAME SCIMITAR erupts from the little device. She waves the thing around at comical-seeming hyperspeed. "GoawaygoawaygoawayGOAWAY!"     Well, there might be some method to that madness, because the comical flailing's at least not encroaching into anyone else's range. She's mostly waving it over her head at the dropping creature. Not that this does much to stop its fall! It gets a grip on her shoulders and the two go tumbling around.     At the first available opportunity though she'll SLAM it against a wall in all of this flailing.     That might not go so well for the well. Expect dents and bending. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' The first creature -- the one that made the fundamental error of engaging Septette in close-quarters combat -- gets turned into a pile of monster-steaks in short order. It sprays blood as it's cut to pieces and pumped full of shot, and the remainder of the carcass splatters across the floor, making a big ol' mess and leaving a bloody streak into the midst of the group. It doesn't even twitch after that. Yuuki deflects the second of the falling xenofauna by jabbing it somewhere that makes it make an alarmed kind of squeak-hiss noise. It tumbles and jerks, shredding ammunition from Maaka's shotgun ripping into its soft, fleshy body -- and not quite killing it. It scrabbles on the deck, getting up and starting to lunge, only to get staggered by another shotgun blast from Kotone and skewered by Staren's saber. It looks like it actually takes some /effort/ to kill these. Val's FLAME SCIMITAR, accompanied by COMEDIC FLAILING, manages to fill the corridor with the smell of burnt fur. It doesn't stop, the now-burning, wicked-looking claws descending for her face -- -- which promptly gets electrocuted and slammed into the wall by judicious application of Mjolnir. Val hits it once more for good measure, the two of them embedding it into the interior wall and leaving a big ol' bloody dent in the otherwise nice-looking corridor. This one /does/ twitch a bunch. Tyr, meanwhile, has his pistol trained on the vent. Two more of the things come out, skittering across the ceiling; he fires once, a sharp cracking sound joining the deafening shotgun blasts and an intense red beam hitting it in the midsection. It burns a hole through it, dropping it to the floor while the other keeps running. It's making sounds as it rushes /away/ from the groun. Rapid, terrified squeaking kinds of sounds. "It won't make it out the entrance," Tyr says. He looks down at the bodies. "They must have come aboard when we came back from the planet. Hm." He turns his mono-eyed helmet towards the door, absently exchanging the red power pack in his laspistol for another from his coat. "We should move forward. The path will be marked with glow-rods." It is. It's a bunch of narrow, twisting corridors, but it is. They may have to get friendly to go that way. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren steps back from the skewered rodent, pulling his sword out with a slight fluorish. When more monsters show up, he shifts his grip on the shotgun and lifts it one-handed, pulling the trigger: *click*     Oh, right. As Tyr speaks, Staren nods, deactivating and holstering the plasma sword, then pumping the shotgun and loading another shell to top it off.     Staren moves up not quite to the front line, but to the next rank behind them. "So... these monsters didn't attack the team that laid these glowsticks, but they come after /us/, with superior numbers and armament? Any idea what that might be?" 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Seemingly disoriented, Val wrenches herself away from the embedded creature and wrings her hands out after flicking the saber off. "Phew. Thanks! You got that one good!" She flashes Sarah a quick thumbs-up, then goes for her pistol. All of a sudden the goofy expressions she's been wielding drain away.     "Oh boy." 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Pump pump. The shell falls to the ground with smoke still pouring from the opening, and Maaka casually draws her Kama before the massive handgun begins to fire. THe ship should be lucky she's not using full power loads, 'cause 12mm slugs are a beast of a cartridge even at half-powder. The rounds blast at the small creature. SHe has no idea what it is, but it better be dead after this.     She does have the decency to warn everybody with a hearty, "GET CLEAR!" to anybody at the entrance, if only to avoid getting hit by a riccochet. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa reloads her shotguin once the battle is over. She looks to Tyr as he's got the vent handled she lowers her weapon now noddiong as she gets ready to move ahead. She orders both drones now to scout ahead and hopefully will keep them a bit better informed. "Strange but the last unit I think was a stealth group, could be they were. She's on edge she hears the comm chatter and press onwards.She doesn't mind if she's got friendly with the others here, she's not that uptight. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Heh heh. Heh... Vampire intelligences. Terrors from the warp. Ssssuuuure.     "Wow, good job everyone! Sure is a lot of firepower everyone's packing, I'm glad. Otherwise... Well, they wouldn't be dead and thus not threatening the people of this ship! And with a ship this big, well, that's pretty good." Yuuki notes, nodding firmly.     Then she has a thought. "Wait, if they got on the ship when you landed someplace, and are in here now, wouldn't that mean the way we come in /isn't/ the only way in here?" She wonders, shouldering her weird batty bio-metallic scythe.     She looks for the glow-rods, sunglasses still on, not seemingly impaired in any way. "Well, at least that forward team was thourough. Hey, Commander, why didn't you send them in to hunt down the beast instead of that team of marines and a priest-technician? Seems to me they did a super job."     Let's ignore the fact she almost died. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Alexis decides that there will be no runners. She plugs the fleeing creature with twelve millimeter rounds, and after a couple, it drops off the ceiling with a meaty 'thump.'It twitches in the dark behind them. That... seems to be all of them? Staren asks a pertinent question. Tyr lowers his laspistol. "The Stealthsuit team is, as the name suggests, equipped for stealth. We are not. However, given their disposition..." He looks at one of the bloody corpses. "...I would venture to guess they were fleeing something else." Kotone's drones beep and boop on forward. The path is narrow, twisting corridors, with a number of grates and vents and pipes festooning the walls to their right. Past them is a solid wall, and past /that/ is the evil presence that Val sensed... somewhere. It looks like the corridor is the long route, but will eventually let out in into a much more wide-open area. That's about where Kotone loses the drones. They lose signal and seemingly fall off the face of the ship, at least as far as she can tell. Yuuki brings up another excellent point about other ways in here. "There very well may be," Tyr agrees. He adjusts his comm and makes a call. "Hiird." Another voice comes over the local comm network. It's simultaneously rough and wet, like someone was gargling both mud and gravel and still managing to talk through it. There's some kind of odd interference along with it. "Commander. Yes. I am here." "Have there been any hull breaches detected since we left Omin Apsalus Prime?" Tyr asks. The voice makes a thoughtful sound. It's almost a hiss. "One. One of my subordinates, he was to repair the breach. The ship's Auspex does not detect a breach. My subordinate, he has not been seen in many cycles. I did not think to concern you." Tyr's expression is unreadable beneath his helmet, but he doesn't sound happy. "Thank you." With that, the staticky extra connection disappears. Tyr gestures towards the passage, waiting for the vanguard to proceed. Once they've begun, he looks back at the Perfectly Normal Girl. Why /didn't/ he have the cloaked guys take care of the problem? "I was instructed otherwise. Thus, it falls to all of you." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah looks around for something she can prod at the body of a dead critter with, finally deciding to use the edge of her shield to prop one up a bit. "Anyone know what these things are that we just killed?" She asks, looking firstly to Tyr, then to anyone else who might speak up in response. She decides to stick close to Valentha for now. It looks like her swordsmanship may be lacking due to her earlier antics. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Fleeing something else. Staren was just starting to think along those lines... "Something else... like /demons/, huh?" He's now carrying one of the shotguns Deathgaze's crew offered. Having the shotgun he gave Eliot Ness was just an ANIMATION ERROR. "Are regular shotgun shells really going to be enough for demons? I mean, I know it works in videogames, but..." The missile launchers on his armor's shoulders raise into forward-firing position.     After the report over the radio, Staren looks at the Commander. "There was a breach, but your ship's Auspex doesn't detect it? What does that mean?" 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Septette's blades flare momentarily, cooking off the blood staining them, then cool abruptly before the heat they radiated could build up and singe the more delicate members of the party. "They're nothing to be too concerned about, I believe. Non-elemental creatures, apparently mundane. I do have to wonder what they've been eating for the last few weeks," she adds with a glance towards Tyr. "They're apparently predators. The fact that they hadn't starved thus far means we'll likely enounter other fauna that have infested the ship, no?" Stepping on the nearest one's remains, she carefully excises a small swatch of tissue with her leg-talons and stashes it in her pouch.      "I doubt they're the worst we'll find down here, unfortunately," the little robot remarks before turning around and slowly walking down the hallway again. "Shall we proceed, or does anyone have wounds that need tending?" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     "Don't know, looks alien whatever it is." Alexis says, before shrugging at Staren. "Depends whether or not these are blessed or something, I guess." She half-jokes, before she watches Septette extract some samples curiously. "I'm fine, we'd be best off getting to this sooner than later." The android has a point, these are nothing compared to whatever is ahead of them, and Alexis knows it. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     With there being EVIL afoot, Valentha's on high alert. Supernatural evil is a whole different beast from hungry animals. Whoever has some exposed flesh to work with (or at least ordinary clothes, instead of thick power armor) she'll touch and cast a Armor of Ithan (invisible force field) for their benefit. Just in case things get really hairy!     And apparently with no concern whatsoever for how much energy all that casting's costing...     "Well. I sense ONE thing. That way." She points towards the solid wall. "But just because I only sense one thing, it doesn't mean there's not more of SOMETHING dangerous. Hungry animals aren't exactly DEMONS, you know." But she's checking over her gear while the others chat up and take stock of things.     But her alert hearing picks up some rather troubling information from Tyr's tone of voice and that message.     "Probably those 'things that got loose' we heard about a while ago. They've got the claws for it!" She asides to Sarah... then pfffts at Staren. "It'll probably be fine. From what I know of the gear used by the races inhabiting this part of space, there's not much in the idea of 'blessed weapons' or 'vampire stakes.' Bullets and bombs seem adequate enough!"     She flicks on her TW blade again, this time producing a lightning rapier, which she stabs at the air a few times. "Good, still working..." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa Doesn't like it when she closes contact with hte drones, but that's why she brought them. "I think I found something my Dones just fell right off the ship. I think they been taken out." She notes and brings up a data pad bringing up tha map of the route the drones took to show Deathgaze so he can get an idea of it. "I have no idea, and I'm just happy it didn't turn out wors, SArah." She looks to Septette for a moment bobbing her head. "Sounds like it Sepette but if they want help cleaning out the ducts I think we can come to an arrangment of some sort right?" She makes sure to reload her weapons and falls in again. She'll also show the map to the others after deathgaze is done with it. Those on the tact net would just get sent a copty, such s Alexis and likely Staren. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki seems to nod thoughtfully. The smells of the ship were vast and unknowing and assaulting her sensitive schnoz. That, and the fact she was probably covered in part by disgusting drop bearhorror ichor.     She tries to wipe it off, looking at the glowing mono-eye of Commander Deathgaze. And the enlightening answers to his questions, and the rather eager 'did I get it did I get it' look behind her sunglasses is practically sparkling.     "So... Wait, that's bad, a hullbreach. But good, because it's sealed! But... bad, because you can't find the engineer. And... Demons? Like, real demons, or figurative demons, becuase there's a lot of..."     She taps her fingers together meaningfully. "Cross-over. I mean, some people just call magic demon-stuff, you know? Heh-heh..."     Yuuki nods, a sympathetic look in her eye. "I understand, Commander! You didn't want to risk your men, when you could save their lives by going in yourself, valiantly." She's beaming up at him. "You're very noble."     She looks at Valencia, letting her weapon shrink back to a baton and clipping it to her belt. "Oh, thank you, but I'll be fine! I have all of you to protect me! With guns!" 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' "Native fauna of the planet we visited. You would need to ask the magos biologis for specific details." Tyr sort of waves off the question about what they are exactly. The answer seems to be 'nothing special,' at least, compared to /some/ things he's run into. "Yes. There is likely a prey species aboard as well. It would not be the first time it has happened. The hrud and off-duty marines typically keep rodent population numbers down." "It means," he tells Staren, "that the ship's sensors are either malfunctioning, or the breach was sealed successfully." He inclines his head in Yuuki's direction, apparently willing to accept her version of events rather than try to explain how the chain of command here works. "They are quite real. And, if it /is/ a daemon... well. I will be glad you brought heavier weaponry, and inform the Captain of the necessity following its destruction." Which is to say, collateral damage won't be taken out of your pay... probably. Septette's slow advance finds the beginnings of the claustrophobic passages. They're lit by red glow-sticks, or the local equivalent, and seem to be monster-free all the way to an entrance to a much larger chamber. The bigger chamber opens up to the left once one is out of the tight, twisting passages, but it's impossible to actually see far into it without moving in. The light level in the chamber is higher. It's red, like the passages. There's a smell of burnt flesh and spilled industrial lubricants, detectable by those with sensitive noses. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren nods to Deathgaze, and follows the frontliners into the tight passages. A moment after, he puts his gun away and turns down his headlight, holding the hilt to his plasma saber ready. No fight starts there, though...     Once he's out into the larger room, he clips the hilt to his armor and readies his shotgun again, shining the light he affixed underneath it, and the light on his helmet, into the chamber... 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      She may not have a human-like sense of smell, but Ms. Arcubielle's chemoreceptors do pick up burnt organic tissue and traces of synthetic lubricants in the air. "This seems suitably ominous," she observes dryly while peering into what little of the larger room is visible. "Tell me if any of you start hearing boss-fight music, hmm?" Then she steps out into the open with loud and clanging steps, taking care to remain between the others and the center of the room.      If no hostiles are clearly present, she'd call forth wisps of fire to illuminate the dark corners of the room... but if there's any obvious threat, she'd enchant her blades again to prepare for it instead. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     "Basically giant space rats then." Sarah nods to herself, "Totally normal and not servants of a mother creature or anything worrisome?" She asks as she follows Septette through the corridors. "For the record, unlike some people here I do actually need to breathe, and I seem to be doing an okay job of it so far. So if there's a hull breach we're at least on the other side of a bulkhead from it at the moment."     She waves Mjolnir in the air for a moment, "This thing is considered a religious artifact in some worlds, Though if that means anything to the Demons in this one, I have no idea." She gives Septette an odd look, "That was a joke right?" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Alexis activates night-vision as the area gets darker. The idea of fighting daemons leaves her worried, but shotguns are shotguns. She's killed worse before, and she shoulders her shotgun close as she begins to follow Septette as well. She's thankful for having a big enough gun at least, as she occassionally trails it down corridors along the way.     Her pace is steady and alert, and she pays attention to motion scanners as she goes, keeping her ears perked for anything sneaking up on the group from some vent shaft or whatever. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa also has motion trackers she's borrowed from the XCOM armory she's going to need to ask if she can get the specs for those to work up plans for her fabber with Rory on that. She look to Yuuki with a concerned look on her face. "Every myth is true somewhere in the multiverse espically the bad ones." She seems sadded by this but she's not seeming to doubt Tyr's words on this at all. She makes note there may be more local fauna and she brings up a few things on the tact net to STaren and her. She's made sure to make a way point where her drones vanished. She also switches over to lower light vision as she gets on the moves. She smirks at Septette and humms a few bars of an famous boss fight theme from a long running game line, on her world. "Sure thing Septette. I'm more worried about things coming out of the damn walls." 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Into the red-tinted chamber! Valentha's nose twitches a bit, and her free hand immediately claps over it. "Ewwwwwwwww... anyone else smell that? Please tell me someone smells that...?" A glance around reveals no obvious signs anyone DOES though.     With a sigh, the Techno-Wizard hunts around for whatever poor soul had a bad encounter with fire. And other things. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki cringes slightly, but doesn't say anything. She's strong! She's a hero! She won't be... Disgusted...     By the disgusting smells. Of industrial stuff! Ooh, burnt flesh! That's...     Actually she gets a little 'hungry' from that. Reaching into a pocket, she pulls out some sort of fruit-nut bar with chocolate chips with it and starts peeling away the wrapper, chewing softly.     Sniff sniff. "So, I noticed you said day-mon, not dee-mon, Commander. Is there some difference? Or is it just an accent thing...?" She wonders, her own accent somewhere between Archaic European and Modern Japanese.     Valentha asks if anyone else does. Yuuki raises her hand - clutched around the snack bar - like a schoolgirl called on suddenly in class. "Ooh, I do! I mean... The machinery-smells and stuff, right?" She asks hopefully.     Wandering along at her own pace, she doesn't seem to mind how dark it is, even behind her sunglasses. And cap. Both of which she's still wearing. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Tyr examines the map offered by Kotone. "The passage should lead to the chamber adjacent to the hull breach. Perhaps it remains open to space, and that is where your drones went," he theorizes. The chamber itself is massive. It's the size of a cathedral's interior, with a vaulted roof and enormous pillars of what look like wrought iron. The reddish light seems to come from ensconced torches scattered around the room. They're actually burning, rather than merely recepticles of what is probably electric light elsewhere on the ship. There's a sort of smokey haze drifting around the upper end of the room, with the ceiling maybe thirty feet up and a whole second-level catwalk present along the left and right sides of the chamber. The added light from the party reveals what used to be the purpose of this room: storage. What looks like industrial vehicles and old and enormous parts of machines lay about the room. A good portion of them have been severely damaged by something or other, with only the few smaller ('smaller' being 'waist-high cover' rather than 'bigger than a person') objects -- like stacks of giant cogs and gears, for instance -- remaining seemingly useful. Tyr brings up the rear of the group, stepping into the chamber. He looks left, looks right, and then looks up -- and throws himself forward into a roll, away from the passageway back. An enormous object slams down in front of it where he was just standing, embedding itself in the deck. It is, in fact, one of the massive, many-toothed gears scattered around the room. There's a mechanical kind of hiss, and a shape snakes its way around the upper half of the room. Tendrils, clearly metallic, slide out of the smoke and spiral down the metal pillars. A bulky shape made of jagged, burned metal plates surrounding a humanoid figure descends, suspended from a dozen or more of the metallic tentacles, each one disappearing up into the haze. Its body is a mess of metal fused with flesh, most of the cybernetic components crudely affixed around what look like more professional (if still bulky) implants in its blood-caked head and chest. There's a click and the whirr and the glow of optical implants. Flickering red lights focus on the group. It has too many eyes. The shape of other things, man-sized and -shaped, are dimly visible in the smoke on the catwalks above. "Ah," it sighs, with an electronic warble to its voice, "fresh meat." Mechadendrites -- the numerous metallic tentacles -- flicker with reflected red light as they move. Half a dozen more gears, some sharpened and others not needing to be, are cast forward and down with a vast ripple of motion. They sail towards the group in silence -- a fact that changes the moment they hit the deck or a person, filling the room with thunderous sounds of metal crashing down all around from the instant of impact to the sudden and shocking /bouncing/ they do towards the far wall the group is arrayed in front of. Get moving! WELL, SEPTETTE CALLED THE BGM CHANGE: https://youtu.be/D9s18rUaubc 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Seems the Imperium's ships are just as huge on the inside as they are on the outside, as Alexis notes the ridiculous interior of this storage room,along. Not unmerited, mind, considering the vehicles and waist high cogs and such. It brings to mind a chathedral of mechanics, and given the cogboys that might not be off the mark at all.     Alexis still snorts in derision imagining their response to her. They'd probably hate her, clinging to her human form in favor of adopting a truly robotic appearance like them given her insides.     Though that's interrupted by /this/ fresh hell of a horror show of a being.     Behind her visor, ALexis looks disgusted at this cyborg, if it can even be called that if anything.     Without wasting time, Alexis begins to let off a few blasts of ten gauge shipboard shells, aiming to cover Septette's approach as she aims for the fleshy center of this creature. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah quickly brings her shield up, hoping to protect the people she sees as squishy, mainly Valentha and Yuuki, from the incoming gears. Her brain has a moment to process the fact that that thing actually spoke as gears hit the Star Shield and fall to the ground.     "Oh Yeah! I can't wait to see what you taste like!" She quips back at the thing. Okay, she has no intention of eating it really, she's just trying to seem intimidating.     She starts spinning Mjolnir up until it's crackling with lightning then hurls it at the cybernetic monstrosity, aiming for it's head. 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Her vanadium-carbide claws dig into the metal floor as Septette tenses up almost instantaneously, then tears across the floor with a backscatter of debris accompanying each lunging step. Those wicked blades of hers are already deployed, and she uses them to cut through a pair of rolling cogs before they've even finished heating up. The veteran warrior tacks back and forth once she's within reach of the tendrils, leaping from side to side in an erratic pattern and slashing at any mechadendrites that come close.      It's not until she's within ten meters or so that Septette leaps towards the monstrosity, unfolding a matching pair of blades from her lower legs. With an incantation and a sudden flare of plasma, the robot sharply changes course halfway through her trajectory, aiming to tear into the tendrils suspending her opponent from the ceiling rather than attacking its main body! "HELLFIRE!" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is hoping that as she enters the massive chamber, she looks about, her eyes tarting left and right as she tries to take in what's in here. She the machines and wonders about the remains of the various crafts in here. She wonders about it but she seems to be quite concerned about it. This place almost looked in. She starea for a moment at the thing. She sees the tentacles she sees the flesh, the cyberware she has an idea what happpened to the missing people. She watches the machine and now she's starting to move and use a good deal of inhuman agility. She's already got her blaster out, it's been set to normal kill mode and she's letting rip a hail of bolts at the thing trying to target it's flesh even as she dodges about. She brings up the grenades she'd carrying over the comm ti Tyr, but she's not going to sit still. She gets a plan from Tyr and is going to carry it out. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     More giant church rooms! Staren stops to narrow his eyes at one of the torches. "...How do these stay lit...?"     And then, the boss door closes! Staren holds his arm out to blast it open, but he disabled his beam cannons earlier... He raises the shotgun and fires a couple of times at the tentacles, then realizes he should re-enable his weapons and sets to work on that -- only to have to dive to the ground to dodge a giant flying gear!     It has now emerged that the monster is an armored cyborg tentacle snake demon thing! And it can talk, but it won't be talking to them -- it wants to eat them! Very well, Staren has the missiles ready, so... as soon as he gets up even to his knees and faces the creature, a half-dozen missiles launch from his shoulder racks, aiming to penetrate that armor plating and explode within! 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     It might be dim here to some, but Valentha can see clear as daylight out to a few hundred feet. She reacts to the distant motion by bringing up her 'blade' and flicking it on again. An ice CLAYMORE springs from it, which her scrawny arms apparently can support as if it weighed nothing more than a feather. She doesn't have much SKILL with that thing, but Valentha wields it with tremendous strength and speed. A whirlwind of strikes - considering the blade's likely astronomical weight - beats back several tendrils with enormous clangs, casting shards of ice in every direction!     And that's just with ONE hand. Valentha's other hand goes for her revolver. While backing up and fending off some of the tendrils, she brings up the weapon and takes aim...     But thus her defense falters and some of the tentacles slam into her HARD. She goes flying back towards a bulkhead and hits it HARD. Hard enough to force a grunt from her but NOT hard enough to knock her for a loop. The weapon comes up again and she starts firing. The weapon's SILENT, but sends ripples of SOMETHING flying through the air. Ripples that will hit like hammer blows, no doubt...     "And just who or what are YOU?!" 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki is agile! She was on the track team in school, and was the prefect, too, which basically meant a lot of jumping around at nighttime chasing schoolgirls who are trying to get a peep of prettyboys and...     And Staren raises the questions that Yuuki feels, deep inside. How the heck are those torches /working/? They're obviously burning, and they smell like they're, you know, burning something rather than magic or an illusion or...     Her thoughts are filled with useless wonderings as she acrobatically leaps away from the first set of razor-cogs, drawing forth her Artemis Rod (the scythe-baton), setting in her stance and...     Coughing. More like choking, really, she looks down, as her nice white shirt is stained crimson. Well, no, she can't see that. What she CAN see is the blade neatly replacing where things like spines and organs should be. Then, the mechadendrites neatly stave in her head and she falls, in two pieces, in a pool of rather sweet-smelling blood, a big blade-cog seperating her halves neatly.     It's rather messy. She seems so... surprised that she got 'killed' like that. But isn't everyone? 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Alexis' shotgun barks, and the creature immediately reacts. The plating around what looks like the human body at the core of it rotates, swinging in front of the fleshy parts and intercepting most of the shipboard shot before it can connect. The main body begins to pull itself back into the cloud of smoke, but the mechadendrites affixed to it twitch and twist, moving like a puppeteer's strings -- -- and two of the humanoid shapes in the smoke are abruptly illuminated by muzzle-flashes, as the 'Ka-chak-BOOM' of the 10 gauges is mimicked by the men on the catwalks. They look like the marines that escorted you in, but lack the face-concealing helmets. Their fire is aimed at Alexis and Staren, except they don't fire the shipboard rounds. Instead, their shells are loaded with some kind of acidic payload, bursting into an oddly sticky, corrosive mess accompanied by a plume of poison gas. The smell from that is on the far opposite side of 'pleasant.' Staren finds that his shotgun isn't doing jack or shit to the metallic tentacles. They weave their way around the room, sliding along walls and attacking from odd angles, bludgeoning and crushing. Two slam down from the ceiling towards him as he gets to a kneeling position and fires his missiles, a whirring of cutting blades alerting him to what /they/ seem to be armed with! The missiles fly forward, up -- and detonate prematurely, striking white shapes cast in front of them. Fragments of hot shrapnel are shot across the room, and another four disc-shaped drones bearing diagonally-pointed vertical fins sail out of the corners of the room. They're burned and their armor marred, some kind of extra equipment fused to them. Lights begin to glow on the front, points of bright red building... Mjolnir sails, and two of them jerk drunkenly into its path. Unfortunately, that isn't quite enough to stop /that/ hammer, smashing through both the hijacked Tau drones and barely losing momentum. The monstrosity smoothly repositions but in a hurry, Mjolnir's glancing blow spinning it on its tentacle-mount and tearing metal off its cocoon-like shell. Val's force cannon starts pounding indents into the same shell before it can register that something's hitting it, and the last two drones are used as shields again, folded in half an sent careening across the room. Septette, who has been covered by this hail of incoming fire, comes in free and clear. She hits the mechadendrites holding it up, hard, and cleaves through the armored tendrils with a flash of plasma and a spray of sparks. The monster lists to the left and begins to drop, lashing out with its other tentacles to grab hold of the pillars and keep itself from falling into the midst of the heroes. It barely manages it, instead swinging itself towards the back of the room, filling the space between the group and it with bright red cutting lasers that scythe this way and that across the intervening space. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Tyr, meanwhile, is speaking rapidly into his commbead and ducked behind the cover of one of the rapidly-diced industrial components. For a moment, it looks like he's just engrossed in a particularly important phone call. Then, the ceiling splits. A great rent in the deck above forms, the scream of tortured metal being hacked away and peeled back ringing in the ears of the combatants. A line drops, and a man slides own it, dropping onto the catwalk behind the creature as it attempts to flee. It turns, swinging a laser-equipped mechadendrite towards him. There's a flash of red -- -- and a brighter flare of golden light that beats it back. A halo of light surrounds a white-robed figure, wearing a massive aquila amulet and brandishing an enormous, thrumming chainsword in both hans. His face is lined, and his grey hair is thin while his beard if thick. "THERE IS NO ESCAPE FOR YOU, CREATURE OF CHAOS!!" Confessor-Militant Tertius Kor speaks with a voice that can and does fill the room. "THE LIGHT OF /THE EMPEROR/ IS WITH US, AND AGAINST IT YOU /CANNOT STAND/!" He thrusts his chainsword into the air, depressing the activator. A spray of pure, golden light flies off the spinning edge, brightening the far side of the chamber and seemingly dispersing the thick smoke. The daemon-thing seems to recoil at the sight. "ALL GLORY TO THE EMPEROR AND HIS SERVANTS!" he bellows. "DELIVER DEATH UNTO THIS FOUL CREATURE -- IN /HIS/ NAME!" The Confessor-Militant has neatly blocked off the monster's exit. He has also revealed the five mechadendrite-puppeted marines surrounding him. Three pump acid-slash-gas rounds into Septette, one after another after another, while the other two start to turn to fire on Kor. All the while the seemingly-endless mechadendrites swipe through the air, slashing with cutting tools and smashing with grasping claws, making it perilous to close in any further. Who has the courage to try to get close enough to help make the kill? 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     With the assault doing very little against the evil mecha-horror, Valentha grits her teeth. The sight of Yuuki being instantly mangled brings SHOCK to her face in practically the same instant! Normally she'd be right over there, and Valentha changes her footing as if preparing to DASH THERE IMMEDIATELY, but then...     Then MORE gunfire begins, from the catwalks above.     "There's the missing team..." She mumbles unhappily. Valentha's eyes narrow fiercely, focusing on the catwalk. Within a few seconds her whole body flickers, blue... and *BLIP!*     She's suddenly UP there on the catwalk, right BEHIND one of the puppeted marines. "Do you know what time it is?"     She waits ONLy long enough for the words to hopefully be heard, before swinging the ICE CLAYMORE horizontally with ALL of her strength! "IT'S CLOBBERING TIME, CLUNKERS!" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Alexis yelps as she feels acid rounds catch her in the chest. Her armor's strong enough to keep intact, but it still burns and sizzles before letting off a squealing sound that's horrific to the ears. Grunting, Alexis focuses her aim to the marines before firing away with her shotgun until it runs dry.     The shotgun slings over her back, and Alexis leaps over a waist-high cog-thingy and takes cover, changing to her coilgun. She fires a burst blindly at the daemon, until Alexis shifts into aimed shots.     Her train of thought is derailed for a moment when the Confessor-militant shows up, but she's oddly happy to see the priest here...even if he's a zealot. Still, at least he's focused on the daemon and not the team.     Her coilgun is then swapped out in favor of a few smoke grenades, and then Maaka draws her PDW, deactivating the safety catch as she approaches in a very heavy sprint. Her free arm lashes out with the grappling hook, intending to grab the daemon by the neck with it. Her plan's to hold it in place for someone to finish it off, while she blazes away with six milimeter rounds. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Aw, come on!" Staren shouts as the armor-piercing missiles explode early, defeating the whole point. It has /forcefields/?! Dammit! ...Wait, no. It's using drones?     Yuuki's down. There's no time. Her head's intact, maybe she can be saved? But they have to get away from this thing first...     Oh hey, the cavalry's here! Tyr has a paladin on-call. Nice! Staren smiles. "...Wait, how did he get here so fast?" Staren shakes his head slightly. No time to worry about that now. Staren holds the shotgun by the barrel in his left hand as he stands and backs away from the swarm of mechadendrites.     He reaches into his bag and pulls out an oversized revolver with a triple-M monogram engraved on the side.     Staren doesn't /need/ to get close. He holds out the hand with the shotgun, and micromissiles launch from his left forearm towards the puppets. And then his right hand raises and he fires the Annihilator at the daemon. A weapon created to fight the terrible monsters that go bump in the night and prey on humanity. Hopefully it will work here and help the paladin! 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      As she breaks her momentum on the far wall and lands with surprising grace on the catwalk, she's struck by several of the acidic rounds, but Septette scarcely registers the poison: if anyone in the group has to soak fire from the puppet-marines, it might as well be her. With her vastly slowed subjective time, the robot girl can clearly see each projectile coming, but can't move out of the marines' line of fire nearly fast enough to avoid them.      Those same armor plates that weigh her down can be turned to her advantage, however, and Arcubielle moves with utmost economy and precision to take as many of the hits as possible on her flesh-tone exoskeleton. The sticky acid sizzles and burns where it hits her internal components, but wherever it strikes those 'bones', it merely slides off without corroding them.      Seeing an opening when Val teleports in, Septette dashes forward and lunges at the nearest marine with her bladelike claws, aiming to hit the mechadendrites rather than striking at conventional weak points. Once her claws dig in, she channels a veritable lightning-strike through its body and into the other dendrites, trying to wreak as much havoc on the other tendrils as possible! "Hah! Nice one, Summers. Save one of the guns for me!" 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     "Someone aim for that part I exposed!" Sarah wheezes as she calls Mjolnir back to her hand, attempting to steer it so that it whacks one of the puppeted Marines on the way back. She pushes away the part of her mind that's in shock from seeing Yuuki cut in half. That needs to be delt with after the Battle, not during it.     Once her hammer is returned to her, she begins the arduous process of making her way toward the once-human thing at the center of the mass, slowly swatting tendrils out of the way with her hammer and outright severing a few with her shield. Several of them start to wrap around her arms and legs and halt her advance, leaving her stuggling in the tangle of tentacles and doing her best to fend them off with her shield. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Sorry, Staren, Yuuki's head CLEARLY got staved in. By that mechadendrite! It was totally gross and horrible and since you saw it, it's pretty fresh in your memory, probab-     Oh wait, no, it's right over there, attached to her head, good as new. You could have /sworn/ she got staved in, however!     Also, she was totally bisected by that giant cog, and there's blood EVERYWHERE around her in a pool, but...     Yeah, no, Yuuki is still totally dead. Just less horribly dead than noted before! Impossibly.     Instead of the surprised look on her face, there's one of strain and a tightness in her eyes. It's a little hard to see behind her sunglasses, and with her closed eyes. But, you know, maybe it was because her skull got smashed?     Wait, did it?     OH WELL DON'T WORRY, DAEMONS AND THE EMPRAH REQUIRE YOUR ATTENTION. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Valentha realizes one swing in that the puppet marines are still only human, and she is Definitely Also A Normal Human, Just Like Yuuki Only Not, Wink Wink. The blade cleaves the first in half, and damages the mechadendrite affixed to the second, though the ice blade gets chipped in the process. The damaged one writhes, freezing up -- and Mjolnir hits it in the back on the return, tearing through the mounting and its shoulder in one pass. It flips over the railing, plummeting off the side and dropping meatily to the floor some ways below. Mjolnir comes back, and Rogers seems to be in trouble, the mass of mechadendrites apparently trying to get enough of a hold to rip her to pieces. Deathgaze steps out of cover to her left, drawing a squarish, long-barreled pistol and drawing a bead on the things. He fires, pulses of electric blue plasma ripping into the mechanical tentacles and burning holes right through them. They're weakened enough that she should be able to get clear. The remaining puppets don't back down, even under missile-fire. Staren's micro-missiles burn away chunks of flesh and flak armor, leaving bloody messes where one stood and fatally injuring a second. The second doesn't stop firing, its accuracy merely getting worse with one arm burned away and the other covered in gore. It runs out of ammunition and, unable to fire, joins the other in physically assaulting Kor -- -- who brings his two-handed eviscerator down and cleaves straight through the injured one, cutting it neck to groin. The other's shotgun barks, and it throws up more golden light between Kor and the puppet. The priest is unharmed. He starts to advance on the other, but Maaka's gunfire and Septette's electrified claws take care of the problem. The shipboard rounds do a number on the much less-heavily armored puppet, and the electricity fries whatever is keeping it going. It hits the ground. Staren's Annihilator hammers into the back of the daemon, blasting clear the already-damaged armor from Sarah's previous strike. The second shot hits a mechadendrite mount on its back, taking a chunk of metal and flesh off. The swarm of tentacles assailing Sarah go momentarily wild and suddenly limp, cut off from the source. The daemon-thing turns, its eyes focused on Staren. Three of the remaining mechadendrites veer off from their shielding pattern, coming at him. Maaka's grappling hook gets the broken armor and pulls it lower. The cyborg-daemon screeches electronically, a noise that is suddenly joined by a rhythmic 'beep-beep-beep' as something grey and green sails gracefully through the air... BOOOOOM The alien grenade explodes, vaporizing flesh and shattering metal. The cyborg-daemon howls as it loses more of its control, and it slides towards the ground, dangling perilously from the metal supports. It tries to retract itself... but the lightning of Mjolnir and the electrical shock administered by Septette have ruined what it had left to use. It's a sitting duck. And then a robed old man leaps off the catwalk. His eviscerator is held over his head, throwing off what looks like holy fire as he dives. His voice is clear, ringing like a church bell in the cavernous space. "MY FAITH," comes the Confessor-Militant, "IS PURE!" The chainsword cleaves through the last functional mechadendrite and parts soft flesh. The daemon screams, and screams, and screams -- and then falls, hitting the deck with a tremendous crash and a sizzling of dying electronics. The tendril spasm, and cease moving. The room goes silent for a span of seconds. Then, it is filled with the quiet hum of the chainsword as the Confessor-Militant extracts it from the possessed man's body and holds it high. "THE CREATURE," he proclaims, "HAS BEEN /VANQUISHED!/" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Alexis is close enough to the blast that she's knocked off balance, and she yanks off her grappling hook while she picks herself up just in time to see the priest /cleave/ through daemonic flesh and cybernetics. Her eyes widen for a moment, then she lowers both her arms as she chuckles awkwardly for a moment.     "Oh, you crazy bastard. If you hadn't shown up, we'd be cooked for good." She laughs, approaching the Confessor and clapping him on the shoulder.     This might be a bad idea, but fuck it, they've won. Let Maaka have this. "So, Padre, was he one of the crew before?" She wonders, trying to figure out how a goddamn cyber-daemon (Not the kind with goat legs and the cannon arm) got aboard this vessel in the first place. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah continues her struggles against the dendrites that seem intent on ripping her apart, and then suddenly the chaos of the fight is focused into some kind of explosion, and everything that was wrapped around her just goes limp. It still takes a few punches, kicks, and grunts to get free, But it's a lot easier when the cybertentacles aren't trying to kill you anymore.     "What just happened!?" Sarah asks the room in confusion. "I feel like we got used as bait." She adds in an annoyed tone." She kicks away the last of the dead cyborg bits, lifts into the air and flies back to the group, where she starts trying to clean the gunk off herself. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Only /after/ blasting the puppets does Staren wonder if maybe he's preventing them from being saved in the future... oops? Well, he's not the only one not holding back...     When his shot severs a mechadendrite, he gasps. If he can get in there and break the tendrils /there/, he'll be able to disable swathes of mechadendrite at a time!     ...But first, he has to deal with the tendrils coming for him. He drops the shotgun, slips the Annihilator into his bag, and unclips his plasma saber, raising his left arm in front of his face protectively -- trying to provide a target. He's confident the mechadendrites can't get through his armor /that/ quickly, so he plans for them to try to grab him and then be unable to evade his cuts! He just has to keep it up until he thinks of a better plan...     ...Or THE CREATURE IS VANQUISHED! That works too!     Staren looks around warily for a moment, but when it's clear all is still... he rushes over to Yuuki, looking over her for any sign of damage. "What happened? Are you alright?" 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Her clothes covered in blood - though there's no pool under her - Yuuki sits up, holding her head and groaning. She takes a moment to heave the cog out of her gut, frowning at her belly, and the tatters of her shirt around her middriff. "Uuuugh, Zero's going to /kill/ me." She mutters, potentially with some mild irony seeing as WHAT JUST HAPPENED.     "W-where is that... Oh!" She squints at the GLORIOUS SCION OF THE GOD-EMPEROR, CONFESSOR-MILITANT KOR, and smiles. "Good work! To everyone! Sorry, I got knocked out there."     She was totally dead.     "That /really/ hurt."     Hurt, she looks at Sarah. "W-what makes you say that? Ugh, ow, that really hurt... I mean, we got the bad guys! Saved the ship! I took a pretty bad hit there, but..." She points at her bloody clothes. "Well, beyond my clothes, which are a total wash. I brought spares, though!"     Staren gets a smile. "Um... I got hit in the head and jammed with the spinny-disc, and then I woke up and it was dead! Yup. To-tally normal." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren stares at her, standing as she pulls herself up. "...That is not normal, for humans anyway. But I'm glad you're alright." 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     DOwn goes the soldiers! Down goes the creature, and goes up... well, Valentha would hope to hear some cheering, but instead there's just a lot of fussing and the like. She shuts down the Arc Blade, the ice sword simply 'melting' back into magic and dispersing to leave only the hilt which she tucks away along with the revolver. A short prayer is afforded the fallen soldiers under her breath, then she hurries over towards Yuuki!     "There's a chance I can save h--" The Techno-Wizard announces in a panic, only to... skid to a halt.     Yuuki's getting up.     This leaves her standing there, gaping. Eyes going wiiiiiiiiiide. She even rubs at them as if to clear whatever gunk might've clouded her vision through the fight.     In just a few moments she's LEEEAAAANING in... and gently poking Yuuki on the shoulder. Poke poke.     Yup. Solid, living flesh.     "......Tooooooootally normal." Yeah she's just DRIPPING with sarcasm right now. But she heaves a sigh. "You gave me a scare there." 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     AND THEN YUUKI WAS ALIVE     Alexis kind of double-takes for a moment, hoping to /god/ that the Confessor doesn't at all notice this BLATANT AFFRONT TO TEH EMPRAH and his MIGHTY SHOULDERPADS OF DOOM, and gets the wrong idea.     "Coulda helped to mention that beforehand, kid." she mutters, before shaking her head in annoyance as she reloads and holsters her gear, her helmet opening up to reveal messy red hair and tired eyes. Just another day at work, Alexis supposes, wiping sweat from her brow.     "Weeeee should probably get out of here and report to the bridge, unless we want a search party coming for /us/ soon." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah peers at Yuuki suspiciously, though there's a look of relief on her face "I'm part Alien, part Mutant, and part Super-soldier, and if I took a giant gear to the everything, I wouldn't be getting back up again without a major miracle." No one gave her the list of things one shouldn't talk about in the Imperium. In the Union she's pretty average. "So tell us how you're just a normal girl again?" She smirks a bit. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren blinks at Sarah. "Woah, cool down, as long as she's not endangering the mission is it really our business?"     And then he remembers something else that needs to be said.     He turns to the Confessor and shouts, "GREAT JOB!" smiling and giving him a thumbs-up. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Tyr lowers his pulse pistol and looks out into what was, moments ago, a kill zone. The Confessor-Militant releases the activation switch on his chainsword and lays the flat back across his shoulder, striding towards the group. He claps Alexis on the shoulder in return with his free hand. "Take heart! One day, your faith may be as pure as my own -- and on that day, you will know no fear!" He's always like this. "That /creature/, though --" Deathgaze interrupts. "Was the tech-priest that came here in the first place. He was possessed. It turned him into that, and the men with him into his puppets." He glances to the side, speaking into his comm-bead again. "Bring it down. Prepare the chamber for cleansing." Shadows are cast from the hole in the ceiling, and men begin to descend. Once two reach the floor, equipment starts to come down. They take what look like flamers and fuel tanks from the lines affixed to them, beginning to assemble the gear. The white-robed quartermaster that gave the weapons is with them, murmuring prayers and incantations. Kor turns and moves to work with them, rather than heading towards Yuuki. That's Tyr's job. He walks up to her, looking down at the Perfectly Normal Girl. "You and I," he says, "are going to have a conversation before you leave the ship. We are not going to speak of this 'miracle' again until we are in private." It is not a question. There isn't a hint of a request anywhere in his tone. He looks to the rest of the group. "/None/ of us are." The Confessor-Militant starts to look over. Tyr reaches up and removes his helmet, looking less decidedly ornate once he's a blue-skinned alien again instead of a mono-eyed command machine, and Kor scowls, turning back to the equipment assembly. He seems to be pointing out places for cleansing flame. "Allow me to explain. You feel like you were bait because you /were/ bait." "Among the Tau, there are two major schools of thought regarding broad combat doctrine. The one I chose to master is the Art of Kauyon, the Patient Hunter. It involves drawing an enemy into a position of vulnerability by using precisely-chosen bait that they cannot resist," he gestures at the group with his free hand, "while simultaneously keeping forces in reserve for a lethal offensive the moment the trap is sprung." Tyr nods at Kor's back. "As I had no knowledge of your ability to observe operational security," the Commander continues, "nor your potential resistance to psychic or daemonic intrusion, I felt it safer to proceed with this operation without informing you of your status. You performed perfectly, and with all the skill I expected, given your allegiances and, in many cases, your price." He inclines his head. "I thank you. Your pay is well-deserved." The flamer teams in the background are starting to get ready to do their thing. "If you wish to negotiate hazard pay or equipment prices, I would be happy to discuss it elsewhere." 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     "I -did- wonder about this mission. 'Let's entrust the security of the ship to a bunch of mercenaries' was not the choice I would've made if it was my ship." Valentha agrees, sprouting a slight grin. Did she guess? Well... probably not. Not until the cavalry arrived, anyways.     "Impressive tactical manuevering." She appears to have no further words about Yuuki's... feat... besides giving Sarah a Disapproving stare. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Alexis is content to let the Confessor do his thing, and she turns to Tyr when he begins to exposit. Fear's nothing she has to worry about, but the priest's words are pretty encouraging...in a way.     She's very much not willing to get in the way of the cleanup crew, so she joins Tyr and co. where they stand.     She gives the Tau a thumbs up regarding Yuuki, even she herself is very confused by all that but can only assume 'healing factor' of some sort. A /fast/ one too.     "Somehow I'm not surprised, wasn't a bad strategy all things considered. I'd have done the same thing in your shoes, to be honest." She says, before clapping her hands at the mention of payment. "Oh, gladly so. I'm definitely keeping the shotgun, that's for sure." 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki is poked, prodded, and potentially mildly chided over her race-type. Which, if we can direct you to her TOTALLY NORMAL CHARACTER SHEET, is penned in as VAM^H^H^H HUMAN (Totally Normal). She is in fact flesh and blood, and there's a decent amount of the latter on her clothes. She nods, rather dumbly, at Commander Deathgaze, adjusting her glasses back up her face. "Ah... Erm... Of course, Commander. I'd love to talk to you at length about the nothing-important that just happened. Ah, though, perhaps I could change first?" She asks. "I brought fresh clothes."     To Staren, she looks - and pulls off - totally innocent and ignorant. "But it wasn't that bad, I mean... I'm pretty normal!" She argues. "... For me. B-but the Commander said to not talk about it!"     Good save, nobody will notice.     She looks sheepishly at her bloodstained lap, hands wringing lightly. "S-sorry if it was my fault. I'm glad our bait worked, though." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah feels like all eyes are on her suddenly. She feels like she got an especially dark look from the Confessor whether or not it actually happened. She decides to just keep quiet for now and save her questions for after they're far away from the Imperial Warship. She's not sure if she should be upset with Tyr or not either. No one died after all, at least not permanently. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki gets a tilt of the head. He just said it was okay that she's not human and she doesn't have to explain, but it seems a little odd to keep loudly insisting it. Ah well, whatever.     The commander comes over. Staren frowns slightly as today's events are explained. "I don't like being used as bait. However, you correctly gauged our ability to stand up to it. It's a dangerous game you're playing, but it worked out this time. I'd appreciate if we could work out a better way to maintain opsec in the future, though. If every mission you ask for help with, we have to wonder what you're hiding or if you're lying to us, that's gonna be an unpleasant relationship all around." 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' "I will find you a chamber to use," the Commander says to the Totally Normal Girl. She's probably got to clean all the blood off, too. Tyr inclines his head in acknowledgement at Valentha. "Thank you. It is, as the humans say, what I do." He looks to Alexis, then. "We will discuss this. They are valuable weapons, and as you have noticed," there's a plume of heat and flame in the background, "we are suddenly less five of them." Then, to Staren and Sarah. He nods, a short, precise motion. "You are not soldiers under my command. If you were, I would expect you to trust my judgment in these matters. In this case, I thank you for your relative understanding. Many non-Tau take offense to being utilized in such a manner, though I assure you, it is a valuable and honorable thing you have done. In the future, I will consult you as to your capabilities before proceeding, and advise the Captain to trust in our allies' capabilities and judgment." 
}}

4759/Urban Mythos

2016-11-07T06:23:06Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2016/11/07 |Location=The Secret World <TSW> |Synopsis=...or, A Talk With The Bogeyman. TSW Halloween 2016, final(?) part. |Cast of Characters=515,..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2016/11/07
|Location=The Secret World <TSW>
|Synopsis=...or, A Talk With The Bogeyman. TSW Halloween 2016, final(?) part.
|Cast of Characters=515, 42, 518, 481, 525, 1028, 513, 7
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The flows seem to be leading away from the Ferris Wheel. Given that's where they all seem to be coming from... well, maybe it's worth investigating after all. The Ferris Wheel is huge, looming high over the hills and rocky ridges that surround it. The walkway up to the wheel itself has a chainlink fence running parallel, to keep would-be riders in some semblance of a line. There's no gate, but there are railing on the edges to keep people from casually cutting near the control booth. It's presently off, and still. The cars themselves are round, with a windowed door on either side and enough space for two people to sit side by side if they get very familiar and opposite another potential pair in any given car. With the way it's arranged, one car can be boarded at a time, unless you feel like being superhuman and jumping up to some. They're even in different colors! Blue, green, red... ...though the last one might be because of the hole in the sky. There's a rip above the wheel. It looks like a wound, a red, writhing tear hanging in the air. It stands out clearly, even on this perpetually-foggy night, casting its baleful glow down on the ride. The topmost car on the wheel disappears into it, swallowed up by the horizontal portal. That is definitely where everything's flowing from... but the magically-attuned will feel the presence of a /third/ line that comes /back/, straight up the middle of the Park. It's flowing right back into it in a continuous loop. Telling whether it's different or not might involve dipping one's metaphysical toe in, and that may not be the best decision anyone's ever made, either. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     As they make their way to the Ferris wheel, Staren asks Inga, "Can you sense anything yet?" When he gets close, there's no time to analyze the design of the cars (best not to think of that, anyway -- he /has/ gone on a date an an amusement park, and wouldn't want to taint the memory) because--     "Well, /that/ can't be good." He looks up at the hole in the sky, then turns to Inga and Riva. "Have you ever seen anything like that before?"     Also, he scans to check if there is indeed any spatial warping or dimentional disturbance around the rift, just to check if it is indeed what it looks like or if it's just a strange visual side effect of too much local magic in one place.     One can hope, right? 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Team B(umblefuck) had come straight from the Bumper Cars, having only a minute or two of delay between them and the walk up (before) and the walk up (after) towards the Ferris Wheel. They did not think to send their INNOCENT CHILD who is ALSO BLEEDING (did you notice? Yuuki did!) very slightly off to safety, because it was FOGGY and it would TAKE A WHILE.     And that's why Yuuki (and Shielder, and Kotone) were standing there when Team A got there, looking up.     "I feel like we've found a small snag." the Totally Normal Girl mumbles, before glancing back, and then up, and then stepping up to the railing. "I do not think this is going to be safe to ride. Kotone, could you bring the child back to town? I think you know the way...?"     And that's why Kotone is Miss Appearing Later In This Episode! Responsible Ideas About the Safety of Children!     "Do we just... climb up?" 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika, dusting herself off from THAT INCIDENT THE OTHER DAY, looks more than a bit sheepish. Hard to top being kicked out of the first round of fighting just because you were clumsy, that's for sure. She senses the flow of energy going into the hole in the sky, but the portal is more or less the biggest threat on its own.     "Do you think the energy goes to wherever that portal leads?" She wonders, before she nods to Yuuki. "I can make the climb fine, yes." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga has fully recovered from her run in with a deadly fireball, the only evidence of such is her clothing, which is burnt around the edges and looking a little ragged. Inga never wears her good clothes to Solomon Island, and it should be reasonably obvious why. Inga sighs heavily as she looks up and sees--well, pretty much what she expected. She' suspected something Nasty had crossed over here from the other side, and that this was where it had come from. Shaking her head, she walks around a little, leaning on her staff and examining things before, with another sigh, she pulls out her knife and pricks her finger, drawing a quick rune upon her brow as she chants the words of a spell to see into the spirit world. Pupils wide and dark, Inga really Looks this time, studying the lines of flowing energy. "Interesting..." she comments, reaching to her belt to brush agains the finger bones talisman she has hanging there, then another touch and a word of prayer to the hammer pendant around her neck. "I believe, if we want to find the thing behind this we must ride this...wheel...into the...tear," she says, pointing upward. "The energy is flowing from here in two paths to the haunted house....but then there is another line of energy flowing back from the haunted house to this location," she informs them, gazing upward into the red wound in the sky. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     Mashu is with Yuuki when she arrives, of course! Wearing armor and hauling a giant shield around, certainly not the clothes everyone else saw her stride in. She's also not stuttering anymore, and he demeanor seems a lot stiffer, but confident.     Glancing up at the portal, she ponders the same thing Yuuki does. "There's nothing STOPPING us from just climbing up or riding the wheel, yeah... and I don't see anything else to do. Closing the portal's an idea, but then we wouldn't know what happened. And there's still at least one child missing, maybe more. We owe it to them to check inside first." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' Pitter-patter go Finna's feet as the little fox trots across the pavemement, homing in on the Ferris Wheel. On reaching it her eyes are drawn upwards and that's where the fox bares her teeth to the world, gaping. The little creature whines most unhappily.     "Entering that... bad idea. Very bad idea!" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren sighs when Inga says they need to go in. "Really? I was hoping it wouldn't come to that..." He takes a moment to download everything from his armor's cameras into a drone and send it flying back to Agartha and the warpgate. If he doesn't come back, the people he's chosen to decide when to restore him from backup -- his parents, Morg, Twilight, and Ainsley (oops, he forgot to tell Ainsley he added her to that list, so, she could be in for a shocking phone call) -- will know what happened and be able to decide how long to wait. (Of /course/ he has a Suicide Mission Protocol.)     "You said it." he replies to Finna. "But we may not have a choice." He approaches the base of the ferris wheel. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     >Enter the hell portal     Yuuki seems thoughtful.     >ride the ferris wheel to enter the hell portal. "Oh! In that case..."     The totally normal girl goes right for the first cab available. "Mashu, you can sit with me if you like. I guess I'll get my wish after all!"     A reminder: This entire thing for Yuuki was TOTALLY because she wanted to ride the ferris wheel. We have come Full Circle. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Staren's scanners confirm the presence of dimensional energy. Definitely a portal. One-way? Well, who knows? The lights on the Ferris Wheel all come on at once, bulbs buzzing and then blazing with luminescence. Tinny music gets piped in from little speakers by the line. It's slowed and distorted. It sounds like there's children singing.     "Three little ducks     went out one day,     over the hill and far away.     Mother duck said,     'Quack, quack, quack, quack!'     But none of the little ducks came back." o/` Someone is suddenly standing in the control booth: a figure in a chipmunk costume, a mascot character staring at you with beady black eyes from behind the glass, a red glow glinting off them from the portal. It has chubby cheeks, a big grin permanently plastered on its face, and a fuzzy belly with the sun-and-rainbow logo of the park put on it in prominence... and then splashed with long-dried blood. Lots of it. Chad the Chipmunk looks like he's going to help you ride the Ferris Wheel. Obviously this is only a sign of the good that can come from going up into that rift. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks sidelong to Staren. She smiles. "I never do seem to have good news, do I?" she responds. Inga takes a step back when Chad appears, eyes wide. She blinks at Yuuki getting on the ferris wheel, shaking her head almost involuntarily. Inga is saying a big NOPE to that. She's willing to go into the portal, but she's significally less welling to get into the deathtrap she is sure the ferris wheel is. Especially if its being opporated by THAT. To Staren, again. "Might I ah...have a lift? I have no desire to ride that /thing/" she asks. Shudder. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     A butterfly, elsewhere, earlier, settles on some RIDE TICKETS. They are dirty, probably bloody, and potentially even USED.     And the butterfly sure is weird, and kind of more like 'the idea of a butterfly', wispy and strange.     But who would evenr need ride tickets in THIS park?     With shielder in tow, WHETHER SHE WANTS TO OR NOT, Yuuki tromps right up to Chad the Chipmunk, producing (where the hell did she get them) two TICKETS. They are BLOODY, and DIRTY, and POTENTIALLY USED. "Two going up, please." She holds out the tickets, and then... Heads right into the ride.     There's something brisque about her whole interaction with Chad, like she sort of wants to be done with him. Her tug on Shielder is more forceful than it has been. Surely Yuuki isn't offput by Chad?     Chad is Helping! 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika meanwhile has no fear of such a thing, even if the ferris wheel is a bit menacing with a big hell portal floating atop of it. She narrows her eyes, snubbing Chad the Chipmunk as she moves past the booth.     She will take her place in a cabin on the ferris wheel, calmly and swiftly leaping aboard. There is no time for frivolity, the team has work to do tonight!     As she waits aboard the wheel, she will draw her sword...and calmly sharpen it with a glowing whetstone. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     Mashu has no objections and rides with Yuuki.     YEAH LOOK AT THAT DYNAMIC POSING ACTION. DOING STUFF, GETTING PLACES. There is basically nothing else to say. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     It is a good thing that Shielder and Yuuki are in the same car, and UNCOMFORTABLY COMFORTABLE sitting next to each other, closely. Because there's no more room in their car.     The shield is on the other side. How romantic. True love.     And like at least a minute of shoving. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren looks at Inga. "Listening to bad news is how we avoid hearing much worse news later." He too steps back from the ferris wheel when it turns on, and tries to scan Chad for lifesigns. Is that someone wearing a costume? Does it matter, as long as they get into the rift? "Sure."     Staren lifts her up in a princess carry easily with the armor's strength, then manifests those translucent orange stylized wings, buzzing like an insect's as he flies upward, keeping close to the wheel as if he expects the portal will try to push him away and he'll need to brace himself or catch on the structure of the wheel. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' Yuuki being seemingly airheaded while Inga and Staren has things under their own bit of warps is enough to motivate Finna to leap over to the car that Yuuki has dragged Shielder off to. But she leaps up ATOP of Yuuki's chosen ferris wheel car, riding atop the roof and making long, low, unhappy croons the whole time. An eerie serenade from seemingly nowhere, from Yuuki's perspective. Probably.     The fox is unhappy, and especially so after getting a look at the parks Mascot who's appeared from nowhere. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Where has Kotone gone? She's gone to get the girl that Shielder, she and Yuuki had managed to get, they have some allies here and she knows where to get the girl at least to a generally safe place. Which she's going to get the girl too, with her motorcycle it wouldn't be too long to reach the police station and dodge the various trouble some things on the road. She gives her helmet to the girl too as they drive off. She will reach the Police Station shortly and ask Moose to watch the girl until she got back telling him there were more in trouble it's just see and some friends had managed to rescue this child already. She does her best to comfort the girl and then she'll get on her bike and take off at a far more breakneck speed to get back to the park. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Chad takes the tickets wordlessly, and operates the control panel without looking. He's staring at you the whole time. Still, he doesn't stop entry, either... The ride on the Ferris Wheel is surprisingly smooth. The view as riders ascend is actually pretty nice: the island looks less... awful, from above. The fog is still ever-present, of course -- you can't get away from that -- but being high up makes problems seem so distant... unless they're swirling hell-portals. Entering the portal feels sort of like jumping into a tub of icewater. The sensation is intense for the instant you pass through it, everything turning alarmingly red for a span of seconds. It clears up, though, and everything here seems... brighter. More vibrant. The crushing miasma of the Park and the Fog don't seem to have any sway here, making the world just seem nicer. That doesn't mean it /is/ nicer, though. Entering the portal puts the group at ground-level on a dirt path, with gnarled, bare trees to either side of them. Behind them, they can see the distant shape of something whirling and tentacular, like the Octotron but made out of flesh and meat. Ahead, the path turns into a four-way intersection, the sides leading to a neat and clean version of the bumper car arena -- save with none of the bumpers on the cars -- and the mouth of the coastal cave where live swans wait to ferry you inside. Straight ahead, though... A field that might have been a fairground is encircled by trees and high, high chain link fence. What looks like a mausoleum stands on a rocky rise in the center, flanked by slabs of stone jutting out of the ground and seemingly pinning it in place. The sound of children laughing and crying can be heard from the darkened interior. Sitting just beyond the threshold is a mouldering old pumpkin carved into a jack-o'-lantern's face, with a red ember sitting in its mouth and burning like it was just removed from a stove-fire. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "I'm telling you, mate," the pumpkin says in what might be a familiar brogue to some, "this isn't /all/ my doing. Why, I might've thought to take a little off the top, but that's my right at this time of year, aye? Who're you to say otherwise?" The man the pumpkin is addressing faces the mausoleum. From behind, you can see his black coattails and narrow, almost skeletal legs clad in well-cut trousers. He gestures with long, narrow arms, a grey hand with too-long fingers on his left and something like a fleshy grey hook jutting from his right sleeve. "Me?" he asks. His voice is unpleasant, a rasp and a rattle like death's added to every syllable. "Who am /I/ to say? Why /I/ am the master of this place, and /you/," he lifts a cane with his left hand, black with a silver top, jabbing it at the jack-o'-lantern, "/are/ /trespassing!/" "But why don't we consult our... guests." He turns smoothly to face the group. He smiles with teeth like broken, rotten keys on a piano, with a face that lack symmetry or life and calls to mind all the youthful nights spent wondering if the monster under the bed really /was/ going to get you. "What penalty do you think should be levied for this indiscretion, eh? You yourselves seem so intent on getting here to interrupt my works -- what would you have done to this /fool/ --" "That's 'Jack' to the likes of you, mace-face," the pumpkin snaps. "-- and to your fine," he tilts his head, too-tall, twisted top hat swaying, "meddling selves? As /neither/ of you belong here, you must have some interesting suggestions, mm?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Traveling through the portal is thoroughly unpleasant no matter which manner one chooses to do it. The icy cold of it seems to seep into her bones, a shock to the senses, but nothing she cannot handle now. She'll request Staren set her down, and spends a quick moment arranging her now burned and torn clothing as she takes in the scene around them. Where /is/ this, she wonders? It is not the spirit world as she is used to. Inga spots the pumpkin, her lips forming a small o as she recognizes who he is. Well, isn't /that/ interesting. Inga puts her staff in front of her and straigthens, looking to the slender creature with iron in her eyes. "I suggest you return the children. We've come for them," she says, not terribly concerned with what is done with Stingy Jack just now. They knew he wasn't gone forever. Just like everything else on this bloody island, he comes back. Of course. Inga is fairly sure this will come to a fight, and wonders if she should have just started with lightning as a greeting. Alas, but she's cautious by nature. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren grunts at the sudden cold feeling. He's used to his armor shielding him from sudden environmental changes. Stupid magic...     And they're in.... some crazy mirror world that isn't as built up, and is inhabited by flesh-creature paralells of the park's machines? He sets Inga down on the ground. "What the hell..."     His ears perk up as he hears the children's laughter, and then sees the pumpkin, his fists clenching. "Oh /no/..."     And then it TALKS. He jumps back.     Questions are asked. Staren's hand rests on the drip of his pistol.     He looks at Piano Teeth with a cold glare. "You wouldn't understand."     Wrong gun. He reaches into his bag. "So I'm going to put this in terms you /can/ understand. You've seen what we did to your friend here." He nods to Stingy Jack. "You wanna be next? Otherwise, release the children." There's the sound of a gun being cocked, from inside the bag. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     The ride is RAD AS HELL!!!     Unfortunately, Yuuki seems muted by the whole thing, glancing glumly out of the window and reflecting on the awful fog, the hellish portal...     AND THE DAMN WAILING ANIMAL ON THE ROOF! She even stands up (rocking the cab precariously!) to knock on the roof. "Please don't! Also it's unsafe up there." But mostly it's annoying, ugh.     But then they pass through the iris of the HELLPORTAL, and... everything is better?     That one asshole (from the Bumper Cars) is talking to a pumpkin. Alright. Yuuki can deal with this. Yuuki is ready to engage in negotiative discourse with an entity of power fo-...     Inga beats her to it, and then Staren goes Straight Spaghetti Neo-Western with gun-cocking and threats. Yuuki winces, shaking her head (causing her long hair to swish back and forth animatedly) and glancing to Shielder. "Is this how it normally goes?"     She has no idea that Shielder is new too, Shielder seemed In The Know.     "When you reach your claws out beyond your den to draw in the innocent, you lose those rights to call your den sacrosanct - especially when the doors are open and inviting. Everything can work out at least neutrally for everyone, still." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' "/Belong./" Finna lets the word roll off her tongue whilst approaching both of the ghastly freaks. But she doesn't come TOO close... nor does she immediately jump to snarling at either one.     The fox's form shifts, shooting upwards. In no time at all Finna's adopted her human form, brushing hair over her shoulder in the effort. Earth-style modern clothes suitable for a parkgoer's replaced her huntress leathers though - but showing some midriff - and a belt with a Glock 19 and a Smith & Wesson Model 627's fitted around her waist. She's modernized for the locale it seems!     "Saying we don't belong but implying you do? This place wasn't always a deathtrap for mortals, full of despair and dark things. Why do YOU belong? What's your purpose in this place, fancy? Shouldn't you introduce yourself before naming others trespassers?"     She folds her arms a bit grouchily, feigning unconcern and less care for the fate that's befallen people here.     Because it might just get the group some more information about just WHO the hell they've come across and what they want.     She's also hoping that the two of them decide to lay into each other instead of teaming up, saving the group some trouble. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika shivers involuntarily as she enters the portal, growling as she feels how cold it is. Brrrrr...     THrough force of will and training in such cold temperatures, Kirika powers through things, and she goes through the portal. She climbs out of the cabin, greeted by the HORRIBLE WAILING and also the creepy dude talking to a damn pumpkin head.     The kitsune draws her sword, growling aggressively at Jack. "You steal children, using them for your own dark purposes. That puts you beyond the point of mercy, and I -will- see to it you are destroyed, if not banished from this plane of existence." She says, before her hand glows with holy flames.     She takes a second, before tossing the fireball right at Jack's head.     HOWEVER she is a horrible shot with throwing spells, this might not go as hoped. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     "I'm not... sure, I haven't been on a lot of missions with the Union yet... listening to their radio, though, ah..." Mashu doesn't comment, because it flat out wouldn't be nice. She doesn't even bite her tongue-- there's no malice in that body, no desire to say the things that, for a split second at most, cross her mind.     She avoids talking, standing by the Totally Normal Yuuki instead, like a dutiful guard, big shield to her side. It's what she does, after all, protect people. She's there to stop things from going bad, not accelerate it. Usually. That decision earlier wasn't the best she ever took. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' There's the sound of an motorcycle outside the park and Kotone brings her bike into a halt she'll flip off the bike land, crunching the pavment underfoot as she lands and breaks into a run she'll end up vaulting over anythinfg that gets in her way as she moves at top speed to catch up with her friends. She's bounding along throughthe pack the previous path that she, Musha and Yuuki took. She'll move past the games, past the bumper cars and will finally reach the Ferris Wheel where she'll take some work to get on to it as she finally makes it to the portal and she does not like it as she has to pass through it. Every bit of her Ghost is screaming this is a bad idea, this is a /very bad idea/. What choice does she have in the end? She's not leaving people out to dry, she's not leaving her friends out to dry or anyone else who has braved this place. She keeps going as she moves to catch up and things are getting oddier and odder and she's relaly not likeing this alternate unierse either and there is /JACK/ Why is JACK here? Oh god she's not looking happy as she stares him down. She just has this horrible look of you have got to be kidding me as she sees Jack. She'll also form up with Shielder and Yuuki too as she finally catches up. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "'Return the children?' Well, that isn't very /creative/, now is it," says Piano-Teeth. "Not creative at all. If you ask me --" Jack begins. "I did no such thing," Piano-Teeth interjects, coldly. Jack makes a hissing sound. It's probably the best he can do for a long-suffering sigh. The figure taps the cane against the ground, beginning to pace. "In any case -- 'return the children.' My dear lady, it would be terribly rude of me to return /gifts/ so given. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to -- well," he sighs, "you wouldn't, I suppose. You reek of honey. Few wicked witches smell so sweet." He sounds like it's an offensive smell to his nose. Another tap-tap of the cane against the ground, and a tut-tut at Staren. He waggles the weird hook-finger. "Threats gain you no ground in my domain, young man; nor do guns." How modern. He must not be one of those ancient things without any idea of the modern world. He paces back, steps long and spidery, milky-white eyes flicking to Yuuki instead. "Well put. Well put. However, as I did not /take/ them, it would be difficult to /return/ them. They are here through someone else's doing. I was quite pleased to have them, of course, but they have that..." He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a long, slithery thing that worms through the cracks. ".../fearful/ quality. Fear is so... /unsatisfying/. Don't you agree?" Hs smiles at her, the crease that is his mouth curling too far up one side of his cheek. It's very knowing, in a weird sort of way. "Jack, on the other hand --" Kirika does the heroic threats that he seems to expect and flings a fireball. It sails right past the crooked man and slams into the threshold, a ripple of pale green light flowing from where it connects. It hisses like water on a hot stovetop. Beyond it, Jack's eyes burn brightly. "Hey! What'd I ever do to -- ohhh, hey, you're that bint with the blessed pig-sticker! What'd I ever do to you, eh? You looked like you had a wonderful time when last we met!" Jack-of-the-Lantern cackles. "Maybe you're just mad ol' Jack never came back to visit, eh, ehh?" "-- /is/ a trespasser, and will be," siiiigh, "dealt with." Cane tap-tap-tap. Three times this time. The figure turns to Finna. He shudders, like he was being forced to do something he doesn't precisely want to. "I," he says, "am the one who /built/ the Park. It was made for a very particular purpose, in point of fact -- granting me /immortality/. It obviously worked, though it had certain, mm, side-effects. Now, though..." A turn on a heel, a pace back, a thoughtful click of teeth. "...so many titles, so many /names/ --" "He's the Bogeyman," Jack supplies glumly. "The honest-to-God Bogeyman. I thought these colonial-types didn't /have/ that sort of thing." The Bogeyman stops, planting his cane again and, this time, tipping his hat politely. There's an unpleasant pressure from all around you, like the world was closing in. It's stopped, but the edges seem to be hovering closer. "You seem to be the leader of this merry band," he says, looking to Yuuki and her shield-toting guardian. "I believe I am owed some manner of introduction. Will we be speaking as civilized gentlefolk, or would you prefer to skip to the unpleasantness your compatriots seem so keen on enduring?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     When Piano-teeth and Jack critique his words, Staren groans. "Ugh! Fucking fey."     He notes the comment about guns though. Hmm...     He stops himself from drawing the gun for a moment. This is the bogeyman. He build the park. Does that matter? Who knows?     For the moment, he'll wait to start shooting. People talking to the bogeyman means more time to come up with a backup plan if guns /don't/ work. But what's the bogeyman afraid of?     The bogeyman of the bogeyman?     ...Shouldn't it /be/ heroes and monster-hunters, like themselves...? 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga raises and eyebrow, looking toward Yuuki. The leader? Oh goodness. Wicked witch? Hmph. "I am not here to be creative, nor to entertain you. We come for the children, and if you surrender them perhaps we will leave without further interrupting your amusements," she says, gesturing vaguely to Jack. But something he said strikes her. "If it was not you that brought them here, who is responsible. There was obviously a rather involved ritual with a distinct purpose," she asks. He seems like the chatty type, perhaps he will give her a bit more information. She has very little desire to look to HIS wyrd... Inga winces as Kirika throws a fireball and it misses it's mark. She was sure that would cause the thing to attack them. As for his introduction, Inga tilts her head slightly, brow furrowing. So that is what he is. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' "Well then. Guess we are trespassers." Finna agrees... though a playful lilt in her tone suggests she doesn't mind the status in this situation.     Probably rarely does period, given who and what she is.     "Not from this world, so you won't know the significance, but... I am Finna Snowdancer, child of the north, Chosen of Luna!" The subtle flames of Lunar anima waft suddenly from the young woman's skin, drifting and flickering in an unseen wind. Light and shadow intermixed and swirling about but never obscuring the crescent moon mark gleaming from her forehead.     The display's rather tame and minimal instead of blinding.     "I wonder. was it worth it? Becoming a monster nobody will accept to live forever, or were you always a dark spirit?"     She's at least heard enough about 'the Bogeyman' from kids on Earth to know what it refers to... what she doesn't know is how to categorize that sort of thing beyond 'bad news spirit.'     Which leaves her giving both Jack AND the Bogeyman a strange kind of grin. Grinning to mask how unnerved she is. And how bothered.     "Is it worth the tears and the blood and the terror?" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' It was Jack, one could see on Kotone's face that she knew Jack and she didn't like him at all and the other figure? She also feels about the same amount of fear for. Jack a man whose so vile Hell didn't want him and Heaven was afraid of him. Yet this other one? Tht gets her attention as well as she looks at the Piano-Teeth. She feels a pang of fear tht she's not felt in a very long time, the fear of the dark. Jack was the evil she knew this one? Was one she didn't and she was not looking very happy at all. She doesn't speak and she notices he knows what a gun is, this horror seems to at least stick his head out and see what humanity has been doing. She readies her stance and the being claims someone else was behing the children being here? She doesn't think the horror is lying? What reason does he /have to/ this is his domain right? Then the name drops the Bogeyman, a thing so powerful it was a thing on hundreds if not thousands of versions of earth. The Cyborg freezes for a moment as she attempts to process all this. "We have come for the children, that is why. If we are able to leave with them I don't see the need to cause more trouble." Sh sayshonestly she's very much intent on getting the kids out alive first and formost it seems. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki straightens a little bit, managing not to frown, her gentle smile and bright eyes flattening, dimming, dying out. A distant sigh punctuates her 'shift', from bright and happy radiant soul to Business Monster.     "Boogeyman, then. I am Kuran Yuuki, of the Kuran Clan. If you require more details, I would..." She glances around. "Rather not. Suffice it to say I think you will find all of our natures self-evident here? My older brother reigns as king in our land."     She then bows. To the Boogeyman.     It's only polite. "Immortality is a prize and a price, many would argue, but fear is a sort of power... and blood, the currency of the soul. It is not so odd to want that, isn't it?" She asks her compatriots. "So, if you are able to return them, then, and are unsatisfied, may we have them? I would rather not impose upon you while you have so many uninvited guests." 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika's blood runs cold as she stares at Jack, furious at him as she sheathes her sword. "I am NOT a hint, whatever that is." She growls again, hands burning.      As she regards the so-called Boogeyman, Kirika pauses, before she bows to the manifestation of childhood terror. "I am Kirika Halfblood, daughter to Shukutou Ninetail, Lady Yokai of Kasun." Kirika introduces herself, with some respect ONLY for the Boogeyman.     "We have come to retrieve the children stolen recently, and have no quarrel with you, despite Jack's...less than pleasant past affairs with us, that is." She says. "We wish only for the safe return of these children, nothing more." For now. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The boogeyman doesn't tend to be afraid of anything. That's what happens when you're at the top of the fear-related food chain, Staren. "Surrender is not a word I would choose to use in this context, madame." He makes a little dismissive gesture with his hook-'hand.' "I don't know. I assumed it was one of you. The trail of anima... they think they're playing at being subtle, but not in /my/ Park. Maybe you should look to your own ranks before you assume the monster under the bed was behind it?" He sounds terribly amused. And then not. The Bogeyman steps up to Finna, looming over her, tall and thin and rickety and so... so... /old/. He smiles with those rotted piano teeth. "Was Nathaniel Winter always the Bogeyman," he muses, "or was the Bogeyman always going to be Nathaniel Winter?" He tap-tap-tap-taps his cane. "I exist to do as I have since fear was first felt. I find this as fulfilling a pastime as any I could imagine." He leans in, suddenly very close. "Why? Are you looking for a job? A monster for hire, perhaps...?" Jack cuts in, addressing Kotone. "Aye, well, they're in here, past this damnable shield. Your old friend Jack couldn't break through, so maybe you ought to give it a whirl, eh? I'm sure he won't mind." "I would." The Bogeyman steps away from Finna. He nods to Yuuki, an acknowledgement of sorts. "Be welcome, then, Miss Kuran. Would you care for a seat?" He gestures with his hook-like appendage. Roots worm their way out of the ground, twisting into a stool behind her like the ones seen in the alley full of booths and games. He spares a look at Kirika, and after a second, another worms its way up for her use. Politeness has its rewards. (Finna doesn't get one because animals must sleep by the fire.) He leans on his cane, drumming his fingers on the silver head. "I have no reason to turn them over to you," the Bogeyman says, "and every reason to keep them for myself. Do you know how long it has been since I have heard laughter?" he asks. "I did not create an amusement park to frighten and terrify; I made it to listen to screams of childlike joy, and harness that selfsame energy to fuel my own long life. The results are..." He tilts his head back and forth. "...mixed, but the goal was still met. Life is full of little disappointments." The Bogeyman makes a gesture at the party with his hook-hand. "What will you trade for these children that have been delivered unto me, wrapped with little bows as they are? I am, or was, a man of business -- make me an offer. And," he adds, peering at Staren again and Inga and Shielder on the side, "please do keep the threats /out/ of the negotiations. It reeks of... desperation." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' "Nathaniel then! If that's the truth, then why the blood, why the death, the zombies, the traps, the malice? I would guess... with the island in this state, no visitors, no children enjoying themselves... this is your last resort?" Finna frowns while peering.     "Who will laugh surrounded by MONSTERS? So why is the park like this, if you want happy screaming kids everywhere?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga frowns, troubled. He thought it was one of the chosen that set this up? It was possible, of course, but not a comforting thought by any stretch. Ranks? She knows two other people like herself. She doesn't belong to large organizations like they do. "I apologize for the assumption, then. I will have to look into it further," she comments. Inga is worried. This is not what she expected. What could they give him, a creature like this, that would suit him and them? Inga is quiet for a time, her eyes traveling between the bogeyman, Jack, and her allies. She has a thought. Perhaps it is worth a try. "I have a question. You want the energy from this place to fuel your immortality, is that right? Is it only in this place that you may gather that energy?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Talking, talking, talking.     How do you kill fear? Ugh, stupid twisty conceptual thinking...     But he talks to Kotone. Staren relaxes slightly.     And then to Staren. "It's not desperation. It's duty. And if you were a man once, then perhaps you /can/ understand, a little, even if you con't care. It's compassion. A moral compass."     The armored catboy stands straighter. "So, you've become the incarnation of fear. What /can/ you want? What do you need those children for? The Multiverse is /full/ of fear." he releases the gun, and flings his hands out to his sides. "An infinite and ever-growing world full of the suffering and the desperate, more than I can ever hope to help. More than I will ever save. People in worlds I've never heard of live tortured existances, they hide in fear of monsters I'll never know or kill, and their lives end in terror and a broken loss of hope."     Staren steps forward. "Not to mention the people I /do/ have an inkling of. The slaves taken by the Splugorth and turned into monsters and slaves to fight for them in the arena. The people who live their entire lives as cattle for the vampires. The minds copied by soul traders, tortured and reshaped as they suffer every depraved whim the mind of man can imagine, and noone even knows they're missing because they're not, they have originals living their lives undisturbed."     Staren stops moving forward, and points at the Bogeyman. "You're the darkness, and darkness is /everywhere/. We're just points of light, armed to the teeth to protect the domain we can see, slowly growing and expanding... but there is /endless/ dark. What could you possibly want of us, when you can have anything you want just by staying out of our light? Wouldn't it just be easier to leave and not deal with us?" 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki sits, because she is offered a seat, and that is polite. There is a give and take to these sorts of things. People begin taking logical leaps, and, well... It's implite to interrupt? Though there are so many words that...     She feels tired. Like a weight pressing down on her, Yuuki has so many things she'd like to do, and doens't for any number of reasons. Some are simply passing fancies, of course, out of character, and others are too predatory - too aggressive to be adviseable.     "You are in a position of power, obviously, and our terms are fairly clear." She offers, from her seat. Her tone is even, but weary, as if this whole event was draining on her. All she wanted to do was ferris wheel! THAT'S IT!     And, maybe, help people, but... This was all too much. "Blood? Repairing your park? Some favor at a later date? Removing this Jack? If we are haggling, then let us haggle. Otherwise we'll go back and forth and back and forth with posturing and circling, like two great cats who are probing for weaknesses."     She hangs her head, hair falling down over her eyes as she sighs again. "It'd be easier if you traded favorably today. Eternities are so long, and dealing with troubling things the entire time... wouldn't that be awful? To live with a deep problem, a consistent pain?" 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "Well, well, well," goes the Bogeyman, peering at Finna. "What a clever one you are. Not completely correct, but very clever. Like a... fox, maybe?" He smiles crookedly, but only briefly. "The Fog is not my doing. It's something else. Something malicious. Something... hungry, I think. Nothing normal that makes contact with it ever laughs again." Staren tries talking. The Bogeyman turns to him, straightening slowly. There's a clicking of bones, or something like them, a creak of a spine that he might or might not really have. "Points of light." He shakes his head. The Bogeyman looms. He's taller than ever, colossally large to Staren's eyes and merely looming to the others. "The thing about light, /boy/," he says with his raspy, terrible voice, "is that your lights cast shadows. How could I do anything /but/ reach for it? Lingering just beyond that circle your ape-brains compel you to huddle inside, rrrr/reaching/ out --" His hand extends, cane planted in the dirt, terrible, spidery fingers reaching out -- He stops, and withdraws. He lifts his cane. He's normal-sized again, no longer a looming thing of nightmares that trips all the breakers in Staren's lizard brain. "It doesn't matter how vast the dark is. The Fog won't let /anything/ go." He tilts his head, staring at Inga. "Which means I must make do with what I have, here, in the Park." Yuuki gets another look. It's more thoughtful, if anything on that ruined face could be thoughtful. "Blood can grease the wheels, but what use is a pump with an empty well?" She does bring up some pretty good points, though; she can see it on his face. She can see it because she's acquainted and accustomed to dealing with monsters not unlike him. That pause in predation, that deliberation. "I want that laughter again," he finally says. "You've obviously found a way in. Bring others. Make the Park sing for another day. Swear an oath, and do it soon -- and not in the long 'soon' of the eternal," the Bogeyman adds warningly. "You are not the ones trapped on this island, and I am by no means confined to these walls." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren leans back slightly when the man reaches. "I guess I should be thankful." Staren replies with as much snark as he can muster, and a bit of nervousness, as the bogeyman explains he's trapped here.     At Piano Teeth's proposal, Staren rubs the back of his helmet. "You built this park. If you prefer a future of happiness to fear, I can get you manpower. But ideas are hard to come by. Is anyone else who helped dream this place up still on Solomon Island?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' "Nobody will come. Survival's the only thing anyone can think of with the Fog here. Not fun and laughs! Not screams and play fear." Finna spouts mopily. She's starting to get curious about what the whole park is supposed to be like, since THIS is seriously some kind of... aberration.     "Oh right, where ARE we? Your sanctum, spirit?" The question's asked idly with a great deal of thoughtful blinkingg. "It doesn't... quite look like the horrors of the Fog. Speaking of... whaaaaaaat DO you know of this rotten Fog, Nathaniel? Getting rid of it is in all our interests--"     She blinks again, whips around, and gives Jack a wry look. "Not sure about YOURS. What do YOU do?" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa looks at JAck for a moment and she tilts her head she doesn't say anyhting else she doesn't seem too happy but hey the main objective always has and always will be saving the kids. She Take a deep breth for a moment as she looks to the Bogeyman. If the Savage Coast was not a hell's mouth she'd be up to try to get the park running again if they were being. She will deal with things one way or anotehr when it's settled Kotone just now thinking on the offer she knos there's threat. F "I'm afraid there are complications against repairing the park at this time. "So you wish us to bring others and use the park as it's intended purpose?" So he's asking for them to bring others like them to use the park as it was intended to for a day. "I presume we'll not face the defences of the park if we do make this oath and honor it?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods. "I understand. I do not make oaths lightly, however. I cannot swear that we will lift this fog...only that we are trying," she responds. She doesn't know, shall they just have a lovely little park outing, amidst the zombies? She doesn't think so. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     There's a gesture from Yuuki to the others. "They swear to help, to bring manpower to revitalize your realm. With the children, then, I suppose you must enforce your own power. Creating a place where children can laugh and play and enjoy themselves, not a sideshow alley of horror, pain, and death. Hunters come calling on those that simply feast in the darkness." She notes.     "If you would have laughter and joy, can you make this place safe? Thrills become terror quickly if danger - real danger - happens."     You know, reflecting back on this it probably would have been fine to just blow this guy out. Instead...     "If this location is poor, perhaps some other locale would be better? Unspoiled?" Yuuki's sad, tired eyes look at Inga, Staren, Kotone. "I don't know this place." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head at Yuuki. "I do not know that he can leave this island," she answers in brief. "The situation here is...very complicated." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "No one among the living," the Bogeyman tells Staren. "They walked out to sea, when the Fog came." He turns to Finna. "There was a well of some sort of... energy," he says, "underneath the island. I imagine it's what caused my geomancy to have certain, hmm, /negative/ results." Like making him the Bogeyman instead of just a more normal kind of immortal, maybe? "I suspect the Fog is connected to that well. There were seals, of course, but something strong must have broken them." Jack, meanwhile, grins his rotten pumpkin grin. "Me? I walk the Earth, love, lookin' for wine, women, and song! I come and go where I please, when I please, and how I please! Heaven won't take me, and the Devil ain't allowed to!" He laughs some. "Funny thing, I thought the power these little ones were making would be the perfect thing to get my feet back under me again, and, well, here we are!" "Jack-of-the-Lantern is my guest for the next several days, whereupon I will likely release him to do whatever it is he does," the Bogeyman adds. "He refuses to die, and is useless to me, even if his jovial state." "Ah, ye say the sweetest things," Jack asides with his permanent grin. "Correct," he tells Kotone. The Bogeyman taps his cane. Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap. "I could limit the dangers," he eventually says. "It is not all my doing. I think any you bring here will need to be tough enough to endure some minor scrapes and tumbles to make it to my doorstep anyway, mm?" He waves his hand. "This is my domain; my... sanctum, yes," he confirms for Finna, "if you want to call it that. Leaving would be inconvenient for now, and terribly difficult even were I not so starved for sustenance. The Fog is a very convincing barrier." He half-turns, making a motion. The mint-green light flickers in front of the mausoleum. "The children are inside. They've been tired out, but they're relatively unharmed. Scrapes and precise little cuts. Not my doing, of course, but /interesting/ all the same. Take them. Return down the path you came, and you'll have your way out of my Park. And remember..." There's a glint in his uneven eyes. "...tell your friends." 
}}

4748/The Sweet Laughter of Children (2)

2016-11-06T23:59:47Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2016/11/04 |Location=The Secret World <TSW> |Synopsis=TSW Halloween 2016, part 2. |Cast of Characters=515, 518, 1028, 7 |pretty=yes }} {{Poses |Pos..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2016/11/04
|Location=The Secret World <TSW>
|Synopsis=TSW Halloween 2016, part 2.
|Cast of Characters=515, 518, 1028, 7
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The clowns laugh again, voices retreating into the distance as the gap between you and them extends. "H-HA-HA-A-HA-H-HA-HA-A-AH-HAAA" The path towards the Ferris Wheel winds east, moving past overgrown benches and flickering lamp posts on a dirt walkway that's slowly being reclaimed by the island. There's a rise at a bend in the path where a set of those quarter-use binoculars stand, a curved wooden railing broken in one place like something broke through it and fell down the cliff below. In the distance, the fog roils, the curtain around the island visible from this point, with darker shapes like enormous, slowly-writhing tendrils of some titanic beast move just beyond a point of clear recognition. The path continues on to a fork. One way leads to a big, roofed enclosure with a picture of a cartoonish car smashing into a second one in a place of rusted prominence. The other goes instead to what appears to be a roller coaster, chain-link fence surrounding it with the only way in (barring vandalism or superpowers) being passing through another turn-style gate like the ones at the front of the Park. Both ways seem to lead closer to the Ferris Wheel, eventually. The atmosphere is oppressive no matter where you turn. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     A roller coaster? But it's barred up! Fenced off! This is certainly a sign, much like a square with the words 'Keep Out' is a sign. Yes, there's a turnstyle thing but it looks rusty and really what's there to do on a Roller Coaster? Sit down? Be on a ride? A Wild Ride? Awful.     Yuuki Kuran knows what she wants to ride. She wants to ride the FERRIS WHEEL, and to get there, MESSING AROUND on a THING THAT GOES BACK TO START is a waste of time.     "Well... That was a little weird. Let's keep going!" Yuuki encourages, before tromping off in her rather sturdy comfy snowboots towards the BUMPER CARS.     "This place is so gloomy, I kind of don't want to stop for very long until we get to the Ferris Wheel..."     "Are you okay?" She asks to Mashu, glancing to Kotone to make sure the other woman was on with the plan. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     Sadly, seeing a child get kidnapped (slash maybe die? very unclear, but she's going to remain positive for now) did take a lot of wind out of Mashu's sails when it comes to wanting to play here. It's also possible it's because she's transformed into Shielder, although transformed is a generous word. She has armor and a gigantic shield now, really, and isn't wearing glasses anymore. Still, her demeanor's definitely changed. Stiffer movements, more focus.     "I'm fine. I agree, let's not stop longer than we have to. There might be more than one life at stake here, more people about to fall into those traps!" No more stuttering, either. Is that confidence in her eyes?     With the clanking of her boots on the ground as she follows Yuuki with heavy steps, there's no chance to lose sight of the girl, at least. "I wonder who runs this place, and why they're doing this?" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' The Laughing Clown does nothing to make Kotone feel any better it makes her feel worse, she knows there's a children in danger. She took a deep breath and ws also still thinking about her two companion's suddenly getting series, she looks at the roofed enclosure for a moment at the bummer car park and the roller coaster either option doesn't seem to make her smile. The roller coaster was just asking for trouble. She looks to Yuukia for a moment. "Right I'm not staying alone here and I have to agree. This place is as bad off as the rest of the coast is. Yet? I don't know something feels even worse here." Kotone is totally with the plan of not stopping much if they can help it. "So far as I know this place was closed down long before the fog rolled in. If we wanted to know more we'd have to go talk to the survivors at the Police Station. The Sheriff would likely know more. I'm not even sure I want to know the why about this one." She notes to both Shielder and to Yuuki. She seems intent to get going too and doesn't look like she's going to stray from the other two women at all. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The path down to the bumper cars leads to... well, to the bumper cars. They come to paved ground and a ticketer-slash-operator's booth, equipped with a control panel with a knife switch (presently in the 'off' position), unoccupied and with trash littering the floor. It doesn't look like anyone has been here in quite some time... but at least there's no lines. The bumper car arena itself is long and rectangular, filled with two-seat cars in all manner of colors, with long antenna-like wires connecting them to the ceiling. The sides of the arena have waist-high walls and then chain-link fence a few feet outside that going to rooftop height, with support pillars and buttresses of metal along the edges designed to give a fanciful look to the whole place. Two things stand out. First, a hole in the wall in the back left side of the arena, where the wall has been buckled outward, apparently by an impact, with skid marks leading to a path up the low cliffs and into the trees. The path looks like it heads towards the Ferris Wheel, and any way around seems blocked off. Second, the light. An overhead light comes on, shining like a spotlight down at the far end of the arena. In the middle of the floor sits another child, a girl wearing a white robe decorated with red geometric shapes and with extra bits sewn into the hood for cat ears. She's bound by the ankles and sitting with her head against her arms on her knees, looking up with a start when the light comes on. She sees the silhouettes of the three of you in the distance, and starts to squirm away, obviously frightened. The magically-attuned will feel a weird charge in the air. It's feels like... the spot behind the booth, with the other kid. THere's no pattern though -- at least... not yet. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Thankfully, Yuuki has not only PERFECT(ly Normal) vision in the dark but totally isn't somehow remotely viewing the area around them somehow - it's how she remains more or less unsurprised by the changing landscape and SPOOPY NATURE, even if the stale air and foggy nature messes with her perceptions just as much as with the others'.     It's like the soupy fog is magically spoopy in nature!     However, she stops at the edge of the Bumper Car area, peering deeply inside, and seems startled with the light turning on. "Ah, another child." She murmurs to her two companions, as if seemingly remembering that other people may have not noticed her before.     "Mashu, wasn't it? Why don't you try to calm the child down? I'll wait here, to try to stop any strange things, if I can? We don't know if this one is... uh, a 'spooky trick', too?"     There's a concern there. "And try not to hurt yourselves, ok?" 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     Mashu nods to Yuuki, simply, though she also adds: "That area there with the marks. It looks like something happened. Someone should check that out, but be careful! Please!"     To everyone's benefit, Shielder's presence does provide a passive increase in defense, now that she's got her guard up. It's nothing major, but it might help if something nasty (like a zombie, or a zombie clown) is hiding behind the trees or something.     Either way, Mashu will approach the child, slowly, step by step and trying to look as harmless as she can. "There, there, please. It's alright, don't move. I'm Mashu, we're here to get you away from this place. Can you tell us how you got here?"     She's more than ready to act if some runes flare up, this time. She'll pit her magic resistance, and another trick or three, up against whatever magic might try to harm this child if it comes down to it. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' The Bumper Cars are the better call than the roller coaster. A very much better call than the roller coaster but still she'd rather not have been here. It doesn't take long for Kotone to start to look around and notices the signs of a crash. She scowls a little bit but she does closer look at the crash but then the light comes on and there's another child. She sees that Mashu is going to hopefully handle the child while Kotone starts to look around and be ready for anything that might come, she's not pulled the SMG she's had all this time out, with the possibility of innocents about she wants to be damn sure before she opens fire and uses it. "...I'll scout about to see if I can find anything." So that's what Kotone is going to do and she's quite thankful for Shielder's added protection given the nature of the savage cost let alone the park? Messes with most of her scanning systems save visuals and she's much easier to ambush here. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Scouting ahead is... not exactly easy. The fence closes off the back half of the area. There's a gate, but there's also a thick chain wrapped around it. Kotone would have to find a way to force it; it doesn't look like it's got a lock so much as it's just... solid. Weird. The child looks up. Her eyes are bright and wet, puffy from crying and unsteady while she looks at the slowly approaching Shielder. She starts to squirm away, but she doesn't get far. She tugs at the bindings, but there's a glint of metal from here. Cable? "S-s-s-stay away!" she squeaks. "You're just another nightmare!" There's a flicker at the edge of your vision. An unpleasant sight, a tall figure with a tall hat, black-clothed, grey-skinned and with an unnaturally large smile like rotted piano keys. He lifts a twisted hand and places it on the control panel, throwing the switch with a 'CRACK' and a hum of electricity. The headlights from the cars start to come on, two by two, pockets of brightness in the gloom. The figure disappears with nary a word. The cars start to rush across the arena wildly. Two of them charge down Shielder from either direction, solid metal and going much faster than something that size maybe should be in here. Two more clip each other near the gap. One spins out, flipping towards the girl. She raises her arms. The child shrieks -- The pattern on the ground lights up, a thrumming red mass of circuit-like tracery that creeps along the spot the girl sits on. She doesn't seem to be going anywhere -- but you'd have a couple of seconds to figure that out and make a move either way. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     Mashu is not an experienced person. Or fighter. Or decision-maker. She's pretty green, actually, and liable to take stupid decisions like this one. Luckily, her body remembers things she never experienced, and while SHE completely lacks those skills, something deep within her doesn't, and while she's 'a Servant' it takes over her movements. That's why they seem so... stiff. Almost robotic. They're not her movements. They're the muscle memory of someone else.     Seeing the cars come to life, her pace picks up. Impossibly fast, one step after another. A dozen between heartbeats. She doesn't stay away-- she wants to protect that child, and it's far too late to back away. If she lost confidence in her course of action, she'd be a poor Shielder indeed.     The figure worries her, but she can't spare it any time. Two cars try to pincer her, two more are coming up after, and one is going straight for the child. And that glow. That 'magic' again, whatever it is.     Her shield glows, an intense white and blue. She leaps, far ahead towards the child, over the first two cars, letting them crash into each other. She lands, in the path of the second set, by the child-- still the target of the fifth car. The blessing of Shielder's shield zips through the air, straight for the girl. Obscurant Wall of Chalk. It puts the target outside the time axis, functionally preventing the next attack. IF it works (requires consent, GM's discretion if it works or not!), the girl'll just phase out while the car passes through her harmlessly, and the glow claims no one. By the time the effect wears off Mashu intends to have reached her, and is counting on her passive bubble of magic resistance to, hopefully, protect the child.     For NOW, though, she still has two cars to deal with. The shield slams down in the path of one, Mashu standing her ground. The impact likely stops the car in its tracks, but stops her from protecting herself against the second. It hits her, and letting go of her shield she flies a few feet back-- towards the girl-- before crashing onto the ground and rolling for another few feet. Not the most graceful landing but you try landing gracefully after getting hit by a demonic bumper car. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa had trusted Shielder to care for the kid, she's likely way more durable than she is. A odd thought at least by the world view of her home world. She could likely smash the lock but that might get attention, also she could vault over the fence but that would seperate her from the others which is not acceptable at all to Kotone, not acceptable at all and then she hears the little girl's terrified words she now turns to see what is just going on with the child. She's going to turn her way back to get into the madness with the bumper cars, maybe scouting ahead wasn't the best idea she sprints not holding back she's going to try to get into the fry with the bumper cars and will attempt to go after the nearest one. Given Shielder hopefully this will not be needed and will grab hold of it using all her strength to grab and rip and forcefully fling it out of the arena away from girl or any of the group. She's taxing her strength here but she /can/ do it, and there would be a clear strain. Well that's if she's ended up needing to do this in the first place and can get her hands on any of the mobile cars. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki, on the edge of the arena, and thus 'safe' (in the same sense that when you stand far enough away from the boss in an MMO and they don't 'notice' you that you are safe from dying to getting your face clawed off) from all of the hullabaloo and moving cars and crashing bumpers. This is a very reckless set of drivers!!!     Yuuki turns her head away, her bangs falling around her eyes as she fretfully clasps her hands together as Shielder goes for the girl, and Kotone runs interception on the bumper cars. Symptoms, and a cure.     "Wow..." She breathes, still not looking directly at the others from the darkness.     With the Tophatted Man gone, an out-of-place butterfly flutters over to the flipped circuit breaker switch and rests on the handle. Silly tiny butterfly! You would have to be a powerful kineticist to flip that switch! And there's nobody around here that's like that! Good try, though.     Unless there was SPOOPY MAGIC at work, one would never know.     "Be careful, you two! Don't... get hurt!" 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The cars crash, and they don't exactly bounce. Shielder moves faster than anyone has any right to, interposing the Wall of Chalk between the child and danger. She screams, and the pattern grows brighter, pulsing with a life all it's own. The moment the shield takes hold, though, the pulsing slows nearly to a stop. The car flips, crashing through the space she occupies like she was a ghost. It bounces across the arena and lands on the edge of the wall, tipping unsteadily towards the outside with a metallic creak. Another one spins out from the other side. Kotone jumps in and grabs it, gripping the bumper and halting it in its track. The wheels spin against the ground, tires squealing as it tries to overpower her artificial strength. It looks for a moment like it's about to, to leap forward and hit the girl from the other side -- A butterfly lands on a switch. The switch must've gotten accidentally flipped, or maybe a catch got tripped or something. It isn't flipped now, though. The butterfly probably had nothing to do with it. The power, mercifully, cuts out. The cars glide to a stop, the frenzied smashing turning to a darkened stage lit only by the grim red glow. The girl phases back in, and the pulsing starts again, brightening -- and then stopping entirely, glowing steadily. The girl, rather than disappearing, tips over and collapses into a heap. She's out cold... but at least she didn't get hit by a possessed bumper car. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     As the power turns off - WOW HOW FORTUITOUS! - Yuuki steps into the now-darkened area, slipping around the slowing-down bumpercars of doom gingerly to make her way to Shielder, Kotone, and the downed girl.     "Is she alright?" She calls, having to wait for two cars to bump sadly against each other with a loud KLONK before continuing.     "Wow, you're so fast! Did you see a man, on the other end? With a top-hat? I thought I saw someone else..."     "Do we keep going, or turn around? Is that... one of the children? Does this mean the previous one wasn't a trick?" 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     It takes Mashu a few seconds to get back up, sides quite sore from the impact. Lucky for her, Kotone caught that extra car, and things ended pretty well despite the critical mistake in how to approach this. It's something to learn from though.     "I'm okay. I thought I saw someone, yeah, but I couldn't... I was too busy handling this to get a good look, sorry." She remembers a smile. Or was it a grin? It was certainly malicious, whatever it was. Might have just been the hat, too. It was pretty hard to focus on the figure.     Mashu reaches down, to pick the child up, princess carry style. No effort needed. "It wasn't a trick... or, this one is a trick too. A really realistic trick." Unlikely, though! The Shielder walks over back to her shield, still planted into the ground like a tall, cross-shaped gravestone made of wood and metal, hefting it up with one hand and adjusting her hold on the girl to be as one-handed as it's possible without harming her. Carrying her is going to put a serious limit on how much she can do, but she is NOT just leaving her behind.     "We should... try to regroup with the others, since we don't have anywhere safe to put this girl. We can't just leave her here." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa lets go of the bumper car when the power gives out and she she shakes her arms a bit, there's been no serious damage at least on a quick systems check. She shakes her hands a bit and moves to pull a pair of gloves out of a pocket and pull them on over her hands as well. "Top hat? No I didn't see them I was too focused n the card but ... I don't like the sound of it at all. I'll be fine for the most part I didn't take any major damage. "It's likely malicous given this island. We're just lucky we haven't had to deal with any Draugr. She sees Shielder has the kid and she rill fall in with Yuuki and Shielder. "I agree tht we should and it may be safest to bring her along till we can get out of here." The nearest safe house was at the school and while she doens't doubt Montag and the others would be willing to let the girl recover there? For now though they need to press onwards. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The child appears to be mostly unharmed. She's bound at the ankles by some kind of wire, or cable, and her costume (well, it looks like one, but who knows?) is rumpled and a bit dusty but not bloody like the last one. There /are/ cuts on her palms, though: small, precise ones, relatively fresh and too even to be accidental. Most importantly, she's warm, breathing, and has enough weight to her that it's next to impossible to doubt her realism. She seems to be here... so what about the other one? The path onward lies up the hill, through the hole in the wall. The road back seems clear; nothing's shambled up in immediate sight. Standing on the pattern on the ground, though, gives Shielder a weird feeling: a tugging sensation, a pull at life and mana (is there any difference?) that leads back the way they came with the Ferris Wheel 'upstream.' It isn't strong enough to threaten her right now, but it's constant as a beating heart, funneling energy... somewhere. The bumper cars stand dark. You're in the clear, at least for the moment. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     Hard to ignore something when it's draining your precious life energy. Mashu does note it to the others though, as she works to remove the girl's bindings before they leave. "These signs on the floor, it's almost like they're trying to pull me towards the ferris wheel. If we're lucky, that means the other child..." Is still alive? Was just teleported, not harmed? That'd be very nice.     "Do you think the others've already found their way there too...?" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' With evertying else that' gone on? She can only wonder what else await them but they will find soon enough. She makes sure to keepo close with Shielder and Yuuki. "I think they will, Riva and a few of the others have a lot of experiance here." She takes a deep breath as she looks out to the ruined Ferris Wheel for a moment. "Just be ready for things to get crazy it's clear the park can be turned against us." 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki's overage of dark brown hair still sort of hangs around her eyes, her bangs all sorts of requiring adjustment while she seems curiously preoccupied. It does give her a Certain Look, like she's hanging her head in the dimly lit foggy atmosphere.     Not like Sadako though. She's got a nice snow jacket on and they just went through an Action Sequence! Totally! Well... Kotone and Shielder did.     "If you think it's best to bring them, you can. I'd like to keep going, though it may be safer for them if they were taken away? You look like a defense specialist, though... Maybe it'll be fine?" Yuuki reasons, facing out towards the Ferris Wheel and the deepest parts of the park.     "... She's bleeding, you know. On the hands." Yuuki adds, barely above a murmur. Maybe she just saw her hurt on her approach?     There's a gentle hand that brushes away the hair around her eyes, and a deep breath focuses her as she stands up a bit straighter. "Well, I mean, probably - the Ferris Wheel is at the back, and both halves of the circle end at it. If we don't find what... we're looking for there, we can always double back. I'm sure it'll be fine."     Yuuki clenches a hand, letting it fall to her side, as her other points towards the spoked wheel looming in the soupy fog drifts hazily in and out of vision.     "Once we get to where we were going." 
}}

4725/The Sweet Laughter of Children (1)

2016-11-06T00:09:41Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2016/10/27 |Location=The Secret World <TSW> |Synopsis=Children go missing. They turn up in the Park. Nothing good happens. (TSW Halloween 2016) |Ca..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2016/10/27
|Location=The Secret World <TSW>
|Synopsis=Children go missing. They turn up in the Park. Nothing good happens. (TSW Halloween 2016)
|Cast of Characters=515, 518, 42, 481, 7, 513, 1028, 525, 495
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The Atlantic Island Park is and has been abandoned for some time. The Fog cleared it, certainly, but the accidents... it isn't hard to find out about the accidents. Deaths. A worker's safety harnesses failing. A truck of bumper cars coming loose and crushing another. Murders. A child's body found behind the cotton candy stall. A man in a bloodied mascot costume wielding a knife, leaving a trail of blood wherever he goes. But the Fog... It's always worse in the Fog. And if something took children here... The Park is huge, spread out in the hills of the Savage Coast. The parking lot is accessible off the main road, curving down into a depression with a lot scattered with abandoned cars. A tile-roofed building occupies the far side of the lot, a darkened office labeled 'Information Center' to the right. Above the building, the sign 'ATLANTIC ISLAND PARK' is displayed in huge letters. On its left, a cartoonish sun with a smiling face rests against the sign. A faded wooden rainbow stretches over it, chipped and worn. In the middle, three abandoned ticket booths and rotating gates of horizontal bars block the path forward. One at the far right has a green light over it, and can be pushed through with a clicking sound. Someone left it unlocked. Beyond it, escalators under a slanted canopy ascend the hill, heading up towards a fork in the dirt path: to the left, it stretches onward, and to the right, it goes to an archway and a rusted metal gate with an illegible sign over it. It's dark. The sky is shrouded in the endless grey of the Fog. The moment you step off the escalators, a feeling of cold emptiness washes over you. The color seems to be washed out of everything, and the world just feels... /wrong/. This is not a place for the living. It's hard to say if it's accepting of the dead. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     It had been a long time since Yuuki had been outside of her patchwork world, with all the politics, nonsense, murdering, and Supernatural Banality keeping her very very busy. However, as a terrible bleeding heart     Let's run that one back.     Yuuki Kuran, Totally Normal Girl* (we swear, for realsies), had been having a Totally Normal High School Schedule of being... Homeschooled by a collection of extremely bishie boys and pretty ladies. Her life being a shojo anime was only compounded by the fact that her escape was accomplished by sneaking out of her giant mansion with servants in the dreary cold mountains to come for a day of fun and excitement to an AMUSEMENT PARK.     A park for amusements.     And so, with a flyer, bright eyed and bushy tailed even at this late night time, Yuuki (Normal Girl, Yup, Totally) just sort of Is at the gate.     She looks down at her flyer. She looks at the gate. Back at the flyer. Back at the gate.     "Huh. They must not be open this time of year..." She observes, with all the levity of The Densest Girl Alive, before pocketing her flyer and pushing open the gate, meandering inside. "I wonder if the Ferris Wheel is still going. I don't think I've ever been on a Ferris Wheel before..."     Riding the escalator up, she glances at the two paths. "I think... It's this way?" She mumbles, stuffing her hands in her pockets as the Chill sets in.     The long-haired girl, heedless of danger, starts down the path to the right, with the rusted gate. "This seems to be the fastest way." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Missing children... from several worlds. And it leads back to Solomon Island...     As if it wasn't bad enough that children were kidnapped, or bad enough that it was connected to Solomon Island, this means that any of those worlds could have Filth infection somewhere... or even some world they don't even know about!     The more immediate problem is the missing children. Can only hope they're still alive and not too badly scarred for life, right? Staren has to go looking, because if he gave them up for dead and they were still alive...     Staren arrives with the others, wearing his powered armor as usual. He's been wearing it more and more lately, but it seems like any mission he /doesn't/ wear it is a mistake -- the attack by the guildless in Ravnica could have gone very poorly for him indeed. He got lucky.     Staren shivers and then looks around warily as he feels the cold wash over him. "Did anyone else feel that?" Before proceeding further into the park, Staren pulls an oversized revolver from his bag, opening the cylinder and checking that all six rounds are loaded. He mutters to himself, "I wonder if putting down monsters counts as a birthday present... Really should try to find something more... Wonder if he'd like a sectoid to study..."     Staren looks to Yuuki. "The entire city is Closed On Account Of Zombies, miss." 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika has never been to an amusement park either.     She's been to festivals, but this is something else. She got the message regarding missing children a few hours back, and she's been with Inga. "It tends to be that way." She agrees with Staren, regarding Yuuki impassively with a crimson gaze.     Her tail swishes side to side, and the Kitsune produces a gem from her pocket, the jewel glowing with a magical aura as it tries to identify any nearby phenomena, possibly even sense hostiles nearby. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' It had been a long time since Kotone had been this way, she had changed a lot but that pang of fear had never vanished form her mind on the Savage Coast. She was clad in stealth armour and carrying heavier weapons than she had before, yet she wasn't sure how needed such things would be. She'd taken a bit of a detour before she'd joined up with everyone else. Doing a supply drop for Andy and the rest of the surivors at the police sttion, bullets, food, a med kit or two it was the least she could do, she couldn't stay long but she hoped the supplies would make things easier for them all. From there on she's taken her Kight and driven through what was left of the city towards the park it wasn't long before she got off her bike, pulled the jack out of her neck. Then went towards the old entrance but there's a feeling of fear here. Something was wrong here, /even/ for Kingsmouth which was some kind of hell's mouth as far as the cyborg was aware. For now she waits near the entrace. There were children missing and she feared what could befall them, Flith, undeath, Droggar, blood magic, all the horrible thing's she'd run into here? Danced about in her mind with perfect recall. "I'm here looking into children that have gone missing...Staren? I don't think we can escape Kingsmouth something always pulls us back." She looke to Yuuki for a momwnt concrned. "Place has been closed for a long time I'm afraid...miss." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' What with a few stories of what happened around LAST HALLOWEEN in this awful, cursed place reaching her ears, Finna's volunteered to help her allies once again.     And this time, hopefully less recklessly...     For all she might periodically chide people who've fell afoul of why the Haslanti frown on big cities and specialization, Finna's not about to lump children in with that fate!     The Snow Fox - currently sporting a grey'ish summer coat to avoid overheating - bounds off the escalators and... SHIVERS.     These surroundings are unfamiliar to Finna. She doesn't know what exactly they're supposed to be. But seeing such a dichotomy on the sun sign gives her an odd feeling. The fox trots past it and shakes her head, trying to dislodge a case of the willies.     Not that it does much good.     But the sound of Yuuki suddenly speaking up gets the fox to SQUEAKY-YELP. With a scrabbly VAULTING POUNCE Finna goes sailing up and lands atop the rotting wooden sound and crooooooooooooons warningly at the group.     She doesn't like this.     But the fox raises her nose to the wind and refines her senses, focusing intensely. Perhaps this sour wind will give her a starting point to investigate by... 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     In Mashu's quest to see as much of humanity's culture as possible, she couldn't pass when an odd ad for an amusement park reached her mailbox. Who put it there is beyond her, but she just assumed it was like all those other brochures clogging up her mailbox. Only this one didn't have coupons for free meals in it, it just showed off a cool-looking theme park.     When the purple-haired girl arrives, her enthusiasm and cheer kind of evaporates at the sight of the quiet, almost offsetting, fog-covered location. Where's the music? The chatter of the crowd, the bright lights, the balloon salesmen? Everything she'd read was wrong! ... no, more importantly, this was obviously not normal. There was no one around, except the well-timed arrival of numerous others looking to enjoy this place and not getting to.     Now people are talking about zombies?     She doesn't heed the warnings, following after Yuuki instead, like a sad puppy looking for a way to salvage the night. "A-Ah, wait up! I want to look around too, m-maybe it's okay if we enjoy the r-rides anyway...?"     Now that she's heard about zombies she can't stop thinking about them, though. Is it okay to wander around an amusement park while there might be people who need help? ... what if this place is deserted BECAUSE of zombies? That kind of justifies the wandering, doesn't it? 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga arrives with Kirika, wishing she'd brought her horse and yet absolutely convinced that would have been a terrible idea. She's fond of her horse and doesn't want to give her nightmares. That is what this place is. A nightmare. For Inga, it is a nightmare with an alien landscape, the amusement park rides holdin no familiarity to her. "I do not understand the purpose of this place," she comments, shaking her head as she sees the rollercoaster in the distance. No matter how much she hates the place though, she'd always come when needed. Especially when this place starts messing with children. She's an angry witch. The supernatural nasties here better get in line. Inga greets everyone with a nod, a bit surprised to see Yuuki. "Yuuki? Are you here to assist in finding the children...?" she asks the TOTALLY NORMAL girl. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Keeping things contained in The Secret World was a fool's errand. Which is why they always make Riva do it. The Templars have taken to sending the artist on a lot of their gruntwork, internal security, and cleanup jobs, which might explain why she's been off the radar on the Multiverse lately. But then, this happened. It's no question who is going to get sent to deal with it. Which is why Riva strides through the cracked parking lot, looking grim a she gazes upon the sign... And then sweeps her eyes over the people present. "Oh, good." She says, her expression cracking into a wan smile at the sight of a number of friends and potential friends. "I was worried I was going to have to do all this by myself. Again." Riva adjusts her Templar jacket, and looks over the area, shivering. "This place..." She mutters. "Bad things happen here." She says, shaking her head. "It feels like someone keeps putting ice down my back." Regardless, she races after the group, waving a hand. "Hey guys! Wait up!" She calls, not immediately getting out her weapons... And looks up to see Yuuki already wandering in without a care in the world. "... You know, I don't know whether to respect the hell out of her for that or just facepalm like Zero does all the time." She grimaces for a moment, and gestures. "An amusement park is supposed to be a place where families go to be entertained by games and rides. Kind of like a fair, I guess. But this..." She shakes her head, and draws over to Inga, hugging her. "This isn't a place for kids." She turns, looking back over to the escalator, and gestures. "Come on everyone. Let's stick together. Unless you /want/ to split up in this obviously hellish place." She jokes lightly, trying to keep up a good front as she points in Yuuki's direction. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "It's an amusement park." Staren explains to Inga. "It's sort of like a festival you can pay to visit anytime, with games, rides, and overpriced food. Err, by rides I mean... mechanical contrivances... like, you see that metal track there? There are open-topped carts that travel along it with people inside, strapped in securely of course. Some people consider it fun." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Smelling the air finds it wet and somehow stale despite being outdoors. The sweet scent of rot lingers all around, both animal and vegetable matter a feast for the damp. Blood-scent follows, a sort of tang to the air to the sensitive, a trail of the smell leading off in either direction. Kirika's gem finds this place positively charged with magic, and a huge amount of it. It brightens noticeably, shining -- and then blackens and gutters out, like it was suddenly quashed by something. That's probably not a good sign either. THE PATH TO THE WEST (and to the left, helpfully) leads towards what looks like a haunted house. A huge mural of spooky rooftops and weirdly angular windows adorns the side of the big building, with a massive wooden head like a crone's sticking out of the front. The mouth is open, her gnarled teeth lifted over the head. Going into the pitch dark involves wandering into her gaping maw. The path continues past that... ...down to the water, apparently. The path curves to the right along the pond, a squarish dock with wooden rails leading up to a pair of two-seat swan boats between metal rails that disappear into a cave mouth in the water. It looks like it's some kind of tunnel of terror. It's probably perfectly safe. Near the path down to the water, a statue of the Chad the Chipmunk mascot stands, a plaque at its base welcoming guests to the park and listing times for ice sculpture shows and his own appearances. THE GATED PATH instead leads to Sideshow Alley. The gate itself is rusted metal, but it can be pulled open through some application of elbow grease, especially the kind backed by Totally Normal Strength. The sound of carnival music, a touch off-key and with the tempo all wrong, filters through from somewhere beyond it. The Alley is a cluster of booths and games, most of them closed and abandoned. Immediately ahead of the wanderers, a booth is open, with a rotted figure standing by. There's a newspaper page next to him on the edge of the stand, pinned by a roof tile that looks like it slid off. The zombie is making a gripping motion, then slowly drawing back and swinging his arm overhand and down in a pitching gesture, over and over again. Inside the booth, a target game is setup, with baseballs scattered around the interior floor. The haze of grey that suffuses everything here seems to get worse the deeper you go. The spiritually sensitive can sense something moving on the far side of the veil. It's disconcerting, unseen, and like cold fingers trying to reach out and... what, exactly? 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Joined by an Equally #animelife girl, Mashu, Yuuki gives her partner in Awful Ideas and Bumblefuckery a bright smile, though her (large) red-brown eyes hide a deep and abiding well of aimless sadness, like someone who's one monologue about how life is so short and everyone leaves you, in the end, away from a wistful sigh and a shake of the head.     Or, you know, it's this damnable fog. Either or. "Did you want to ride the Ferris Wheel too? I've never been..." She mentions, as the pair walk into sideshow alley, before noticing...     A ZOMBIE!     She moves to pick up the paper, before immediately catching on. "Oh! It's a baseball cage! If you throw the ball..." She indicates any Nearby Baseballs or other Throwable Implements and then down the other end at the booth. "And hit something, you can win a prize? We can also move on, if you don't want to. I've been at festivals like this before, the prizes can be pretty lame... But it's fun all the same!"     Yuuki patently ignores that there is a zombie manning this booth, treating it like a Totally Normal Person who is about to gyp them with a rigged festival game and probably glued together target bottles, the scum!!!     She tries to read the dirty paper with all of its DELIGHTFUL SECRETS, as a butterfly (both wildly unseasonal and also atonal) flutters on top of her head.     There's a bunch of those unseasonal and atonal butterflies around, actually! Where'd they come from?     "I should buy a stuffed bear on my way back home. Probably save a bunch, too, than trying to win one." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' Finna snuffles and sneezes, clearing her nostrils but... ewwwwwgh. There's so much rot here, it's hard to not feel all yucky from it. But she hops down clear off the sign and decides to head down the west/left path.     The fox first approaches the haunted hose, but stops within ten feet of the freaky witchmouth opening. That deep darkness unsettles her. She's not sure it's worth finding out what might've gone in there. But she sniffs the ground and the air, leaps high up to sail past some windows and peer in - with her natural nightvision, maybe the vixen'll have some luck!     But if nothing in there catches her attention... it's on to the waterfront and trotting over to the Chipmunk mascot. The fox tilts her head a few times at this one... then springs up onto her hind legs to examine the plaque. Because clearly a plaque attached to a statue like that must have some CRAZY story to tell... 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga turns and smiles to Riva, returning her embrace. She's missed her friend, it seems like it had been so long since they'd just spent time together. Alas, but they will have to bond over horror and blood--per usual. Looking between Riva and Staren, Inga blinks. Their explanation of the amusement park is still puzzling. "Rides," she says. "Interesting. I cannot see why I would strap myself into a thing such as that! Cars are excitement enough," she grumbles. No need to add being at dizzying heights into the equation. "Well... lets get this over with," she sighs, staying nearby Riva and Kirika as they move into the amusment park. It is a terrible place, almost overwhelming to the senses. Everything there says GET OUT! and yet they must wander in none the less. Inga frowns, feeling a surge of energy that is quickly squashed. She looks to Riva, raising a brow. "Did you feel that?" she asks. Not encouraging at all. If that wasn't bad enough, every hair on Inga's body suddenly stands on end. She cannot repress the shiver that tickles up her spine. "Oh, gods..." she says, swaying where she stands, feeling that presence slither through the spiritual world, brushing against the material, caressing her through the veil. "There's...something...very nasty here, just on the other side," she says, grabbing onto Kirika for a bit of added support. There's mention of splitting up. "I believe either path will lead to the same destination eventually," she responds. Could be a Seer hunch. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika frowns as she watches Yuuki and Mashu deep around. "Is it truly wise to seek games to play at a time like this? There are people missing, after all." She muses aloud, noting that her gem's just gone quiet. That energy was considerable before it just fizzled away, and Kirika nods as Inga notices the same thing.     "I felt it was well. I have a bad feeling about this place." Wrong alt and wrong franchise, kiddo, but the sentiment stands.     She will gladly hold onto Inga, her arm wrapped protectively around the wise woman, before she begins to head further eastwards gently, guiding Inga along. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren nods to Inga. "I did say 'some' like it." At Inga's indecision, he looks around uncertainly. He's inclined to follow Inga... and it seems they already have enough people going right. "Keep in touch..." he says, as he turns left and heads that way. "See anything?" he calls to Finna as he sees her trying to look in windows.     He also scans the Chad the Chipmunk statue to check if it looks like it has animatronic components or not. Adventurers don't trust statues. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     "Y-Yeah! I've never been in an amusement park before, s-so I thought m-maybe I could..." Well, what Mashu THOUGHT she'd get to do is unfortunately very different from what she's GETTING to do now, but that seems to be a recurring theme with her. First that weird restaurant-themed dungeon, now this. The world hates fun places, she would like to conclude.     As she follows Yuuki, half-hesitant now, Mashu stops dead in her tracks at the sight of the zombie, before Yuuki being so casual about it makes her look harder. Is that zombie... trying to explain how to play the game at the booth? Is that a real thing zombies do?     Maybe what has Mashu so uncomfortable now isn't the sight of the rotting cadaver trying to play instructor but rather the odd, gripping feeling in the air she can't place or locate. It's new, for her, having the magical senses of a Servant. Sensory overload is a thing. It just confuses her for the most part, though.     "U-Um, w-well, it would be... r-rude not to try to play his game, I g-guess? I-I mean someone clearly went through the t-trouble of... putting him there. Or h-he did that to himself." She's heard it's very, very important to respect the dead.     And so she will, while Yuuki reads a paper, get closer to the booth to give that baseball pitching game a shot or three. If the zombie will let her! As for whether or not she's good at it, well... 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa does not like the idea of splitting up, she hates the idea of splititng up here. She has some idea of what might be creeping around here. She does not like it but it's too late to stop it now, she pauses for a moment and she sees that the park has some things working here somehow. There's the new arrival Mashu and Yuuki who may not even have an idea of how much danger they are actally in. Kotone has no idea of what abilities they have if any after all. Yet there goes the people she's worked with most. With the bulk of the team sticking together someone should watch over Yuuki and Mashu right? Kotone sighs as she watches her friends head off nd she makes her choice. She moves to heads to follow after Yuuki and Mushu. "Hey wait up!" Kotone has no idea either of them would be more than a match for Kotone on their own let alone as a pair. Still there may be clues here and she follows after Yuuki and Mushu. She will catch up at the stall and it's clear she's eyeing the zombie about ready to start shooting it, but she doesn't pull her gun. She is looking around though like she expects the three of them to be attacked by something. The Japanese woman really does seem tense. "I never ... seen a Zombie here not try to rip someone's throat out the first chance it ... got? What /is/ going on here?" She does watch to see what happens when Mushu makes her pitches and she's also trying to get an idea about Yuuki who clearly just seems to be a totlaly normal girl. "These sorts of games tend to be rigged and are more for the fun of just playing I have found Miss." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva already looks kind of sick. Not just the queasiness one might expect, but something a little deeper, like the miasmatic environment is affecting her on some deeper level... Or maybe it's the chili dogs. Either way, Riva seems to remain unarmed at the moment, likely choosing to stick to the adaptable option instead of committing to a weapon which might prove useless against an unknown opponent. "This place feels like one of those 'Eat At Joe's' signs. You know, the ones that are always sparking because of a short?" Riva says... And then adds, "Now make the sign out of evil bloody clowns." Riva sighs, looking around. "So yeah, we need to find the kids... And they could be anywhere." She looks to the others, and then grimaces, looking to the Haunted House. "If I was an asshole going to hide kids in an amusement park, where would be a primary spot..." She says, her tone saying she already knows THAT answer." With a resigned sigh, she breaks away from Team B, going towards the open maw. http://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=788264153 Meanwhile, Finna looks over the statue. It looks almost pleasant in the way it looks up into the sky, a chipmunk mascot-looking thing with a rainbow patch on its belly, arms flung wide as if to invite one and all to this place of fun and fortune. Well, it WOULD be pleasant if it wasn't splattered with blood. Staren does not detect any animatronics or or people inside the statue. That would be silly, Staren. Why would anyone do such a thing? The plaque at the bottom looks like a schedule for mascot appearances... Though someone has vandalized it with a little rhyme in thin, precisely marked black lettering. http://i.imgur.com/mfYq2Zw.jpg Inside the House of Horrors, the group sees a grotesque waiting room full of trash, splattered with blood on the walls and floors. There is an empty kiosk at the front, with a door to the side leading further in. Lurid images visible under the blood depict ghosts and skeletons dancing about. "Well... This isn't.. as bad as I thought?" She says, looking back to the others who hae followed her in. A moment later, there is a low, booming voice, dripping with crawling spiders and the kindness of broken glass: "TICKETS, PLEASE." Those who look quickly enough catch just a glimpse, a shadow within a shadow, an afterimage of tophat and a rotten-piano smile that even in the sudden silence echoes with mocking laughter. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The zombie doesn't seem to notice either of them. He's just going through the motions, over and over again. Step right up, he seems to say; win a prize. The newspaper has nothing to do with it, a page that looks like it's been there a while, and makes little sense to the reader. Still, maybe there's some kind of wisdom to it? And there are a couple of balls scattered nearby... Mashu scoops one up and flings it, striking the target with a 'clonk!' and spinning it around! It spins, and spins, and then... stops. There's a 'click-clack-clack-creeeeak' -- and clown figurines spill from the ceiling of the booth, pouring out in a wave of hard plastic that feels like it's filled with cement. Their eyes light up, mouths moving, creepy grins and echoing, weirdly metallic laughter spilling into the alley. The gate swings closed behind them with a groan of metal. Lights start to light up all through the hut-filled space, illuminating signs for popcorn, cotton candy, hamburgers and hot dog stands, along with a myriad of rigged games that are closed for public consumption. Several swing open, stacked prizes following them with beady eyes that track their movement, a teddy bear pyramid and a wall of clown statues flanking the twisting path onward. The scent of blood is suddenly fresh nearby. It's coming from behind the cotton candy booth. There's a stain on the ground, dark and recent, a drag mark... A bee buzzes past Yuuki's ear. It doesn't seem to mind the butterflies. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Well, /someone/ doesn't like Chad." Staren comments at the plaque, then walks in. Staren turns at the voice, raising his arm to fire... but whoever it was is gone. Or has at least moved out of sight. "Who's there?!" He looks around. "What do you want?!" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' BLOOD stands out instantly to Finna. Her nose catches it on the odd chance her eyes miss it. But the poem has her eyes stuck period. With both ears flicked low she gives Staren a sorrowful and worried look in agreement... then goes bounding back up the path. There's nothing to see down here....     But she has to wonder. Who wrote that. When did they write it? People being silly, or someone with an honest grudge? She can't really tell...     Into the House with Riva! So much blood. The fox bares her teeth for the first time since coming here. There's NO good reason for there to be so much blood here.     But just as she's about to speak up and answer Riva, snout aimed at the spatters...     A BOOMING VOICE gets her JUMPING yet again. She jumps so high off her feet that she lands on the ceiling... rather literally, she hits the ceiling and STICKS THERE, shivering and looking all around.     A burning desire starts boiling in her gut. She's going to FIND whoever's behind this and scare them RIGHT out of their skin. "Will show /you/ trick or treat." The fox murmurs, shaking her head quickly. Who... or what... did she just see? 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Looking toward Riva, Inga knows she isn't the only one feeling this particular nastiness. Inga leans on Kirika until she can clear her head, touching the hammer amulet at her neck and whispering a prayer seems to help. She straightens, resolve strengthening. She flashes a smile of appreciates to Kirika for her help, leaning on her staff to move with the others into the grotesque building. A glance toward Riva, brow arched and a wry smile upon her lips. "That says much for what we've seen, if this isn't as bad as you thought," she comments. Naturally, that's when the booming voice and creepy broken smile slithers out, all shadow and laughing malice. The wisewoman holds her ground, frowning. Something is trying to scare them away, so they must be close to discovering something. Inga begins searching the room, looking for any blood that's more fresh than the rest, any clues that might lead to the missing children. If that yields nothing promising, Inga will take out her runes and pull a few from the bag for guidance. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Mashu wins! THE PRIZE IS AWFUL     "Oh! You won!" Yuuki looks up from quite possibly the thickest brick of metaphor, allusion, and straight word free association with concepts she's ever read in her life, before handing the newspaper scrap to Kotone. "Oh, hello! Here, have some reading material."     The mountain of trap prizes and concrete clowns gets a 'huh' of surprise before a shake of the head. "T-top prize?" She (un)helpfully tries to cheer Mashu up over, before everything else turns back on. "I have a feeling that the cotton candy isn't going to be good." She laments lightly, before glancing sadly at the Ferris Wheel in the distance.     "But there's something dragged behind there. Want to check it out?" She asks Kotone and Mashu, before...     You know, going anyway. Why is the #animelife girl going behind the creepy shack with the blood-scent so thick a Normal Girl could smell it and drag marks?     It's her instincts as Stereotypical Slasher Victim Designee Girl, most likely. 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     For a moment, Mashu's mood can be summed up by the fact she turns to look at Yuuki and manages a stutterless: "Look! I think I won! I wonder what kind of prizes they have?" Confidence? Just a bit, in the face of great success for a change. As long as an animatronic cat doesn't burst out of that booth and scream at her, she'll be fine!     Then she's burried in clowns.     Creepy, glowing-eyes clowns. That laugh.     Mashu flails, stumbling back before she's completely drowned in figurines. On-cue do countless booths and signs light up, and Mashu is completely overwhelmed by how fast that went wrong. Lucky her, she can't recognize the smell of blood, and she's too busy trying to get back up to notice the stains. That's alright, though, because Yuuki clearly loves that smell, right?     Right on cue does Yuuki help Mashu up and then offer her to go check something out. Check what out? She tries looking in the same direction the Totally Normal Girl did, seeing nothing yet. "I-Is that why it smells weird now?" Aww, she really wanted cotton candy too. After the clown thing though... maybe not.     No arguments against checking behind the shack, though. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika is a steady post for Inga to lean against, helping the wise woman along as she watches Riva enter the OPEN GAPING MAW. "Oh dear." She murmurs, as a BOOMING VOICE echoes out. It's clear the kitsune regrets doing this, but she feels the need to follow Riva, Finna, and Staren along to the open mouth of the cave, so to speak. "Come, Inga. We shouldn't let Riva face this alone." She says.     She has her gem in one hand, and keeps her sword close with the other, the blade just pushed up out of the scabbard by an inch or so with her thumb. Kirika stays on alert, waiting for whatever is lurking about to jump out as she helps Inga search the interior. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa sees that the Zombie does not attack trio of them and thankfully she doesn't move to shoot it or set it off. She watches as Mashu takes her pitches and she stares at the wave of toys raining down on them and the laughter. A chill goes down Kotone's spine and then worse lights come on, she looks at the pyramid of teddies bears and wall of clowns. Kotone also pauses, as she does smell a bitter tang of iron? Wait is that blood? She pauses takes the newspaper clipping and takes a look at it, the text does seem to be important. She puts it in a pouch to keep it safe. "Thank you that's ... actually useful." Hopefully Riva can make more sense of it. She'll move to help Mushu get out from under all the clowns. She'll quickly move to follow after Yuuki with Mushu and she notes. "I really don't like this and oh! I'm Kotone." She's on edge as she goes to check out the likely source of the smell of blood and she has a sick feeling it might be from the corpse of one of the missing kids. If God or any Gods who are not of ill intent are watching she prays she's wrong. This evening really is turing creepy even if it had nothing to do with Kings Mouth or the flith that infests the region. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' It's certainly a puzzle, Finna. Sadly, there isn't any real indication or way to tell /when/ it was vandalized... Or if this place sprang from the Hell that spawned it, already damaged. Good thing it's just a mascot statue, at least. Within the House, Finna seeks out the voice that spoke, but whatever presence did seems to have melted right back into the horrible ambiance. It's not that there's a /lack/ of activity here. The problem seems to be that there's /so much/. Picking anything out amidst the intense emotional and spiritual badfeels here is like trying to isolate a specific patch of radiation at Chernobyl. Or maybe... Either way, Finna's nose can definately smell something twisted and dark further in. Hard to tell if it's more radiation, evil spirits, or something... stranger. But perhaps the nose knows! Staren doesn't get a direct answer. There is, however, something that flickers just at the edge of his vision. Did something just move in the shadows of the door into the Haunted House proper? No, wait, it's gone... What the hell is even going on here? Riva, of course, is utterly frozen from the sudden scary moment, her eyes wide and hair even frizzed out in all directions. However, she quickly recovers, trying to smooth out her demeanor once again. Psyber she's not. "Y... yeah, no problem." She stammers for a moment, and then gestures to Inga. "D... Do you see anything interesting?" She asks. Inga, for her part, totally knows just how Riva feels. Maybe even moreso, with her intensely deep connection to the natural pulse of the world... But there's nothing natural here. Just twisted laughter and darkness, the kind of evil that her people would never suffer to exist. Beyond the trickery of Loki, past the dark necessities of Hel. This stinks more of Nidhogg, the poisonous devourer, so rank and vile the energies of the area feel. But the blood is old, much of it by years. Some of it isn't even human. Perhaps animal blood used as decoration, before everything went bad? But the trails do lead further in. There are no children in the waiting room seeking to be saved. Eventually, the group proceeds into the Haunted House itself. The dark areas immediately seem to diverge into a multidirectional maze of twisted bookshelves, webs, darkness and mirrors, many of them cunningly positioned to confuse the senses. The group can either methodically search through the maze, or split up in order to cover ground faster... But splitting up carries its own dangers in this obviously evil place. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Well, on the bright side, the clowns don't chase Mashu down and try to eat her flesh this time! The tide of them stops soon after she gets clear, and they all seem to roll and bobble to their flat clowny feet to look up at her in a semicircle of evil clown-face. They laugh again, not quite in sync. "H-HA-HA-A-HA-H-HA-HA-A-AH-HAAA" The drag mark is... red. There's blood on the ground, a stain in the dirt, dragged back behind the stand. A glowing arrow-sign of pinkish lightbulbs reads 'CHAD THE CHIPMUNK' and points back that way, lights flickering unsteadily. The other direction seems to lead past the Alley and deeper into the Park, towards the ultimate goal of a ferris wheel. The Perfectly Normal Girl can smell pig's blood all over -- the stain, maybe, and behind the shed? -- and... human. A lot less of it, but human. Turning the corner finds... a figure at the end of the obvious blood-trail. A small one; child-sized, dressed in something soaked and black with an orange plastic pumpkin head for a mask. There's a boom handle with a (fake) horse head on the end of it dropped nearby. When the group steps over, the figure sits up, gasping and planting his bare hands on the ground. The dirt lights up. A pattern in bright yellow spreads out from where his hands are, a shape like circuits and burning with magical power. It spreads up the wall behind the child, branching over and over again, making smaller and more intricate markings that surround him. The child screams in fright -- -- and disappears. The faint blood-scent remains. The clowns laugh again. "H-HA-HA-A-HA-H-HA-HA-A-AH-HAAA" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Splitting up further in this place would be particularly foolhardy. Inga would absolutely advise against it. What they need is something to help them track their way through this place. What they need is a clue, even a small one, that Inga could use in a tracking spell. The atmosphere is thick with terror, it is very difficult to search out just one strand, one flavor, in the myriad. But Inga is trained to sort through the wyrd, the tangled web of fate itself. So she continues in, seneses keen, contemplating doing something...inadvisable. Peering into the underworld. Thing thinks he can hide from them whenever it pleases? Pfft. But does she /want/ to see it? Probably not. There's a lot of horrors tucked away in the mind as it is. "Come...we should stay together. Whatever presence in here will likely try to seperate us and get us lost." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren whirls on the entrance of the haunted house proper, beam cannons ready, but noone's there. "Damn..." On they go. He tries to climb a bookshelf and start mapping the maze from the top of it, using his suit's lights and cameras. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika nods in agreement. "We should stay together if we can, even if whatever presence is here tries to get us to separate." She says, holding Inga close. She feels utter terror knot up in her gut, gnawing on the kitsune's very essence.     She will head further down the maze of bookshelves, her eyes helping her see in the dark as she smells faded blog. A LOT of people must've died here, over the span of many years no less. That's enough to make Kirika's stomach churn again, even if she couldn't sense their spirits with her gem. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Following the drag lines and the (pig) blood along dutifully, Yuuki sees QUITE THE FRIGHT!!!     Sort... of?     It's October, and that means Spoopy Things are happening. Haunted amusement park, zombie pitcher man, falling clowns... Plus, most of the blood is fake! Fake? We'll go with fake.     "This park really is going with a theme, isn't it?" She muses quietly to herself, even as the kid uses SUPER MAGIC RUNES to DO A THING which appears to be teleportation, and then... screams? That's weird, wasn't the kid...     Blood magic? She heard of it before, but it was a little foreign of an idea for the Normal Girl to think about. It wasn't at all like how 'magic' worked, right? At least, that she understood.     "I wonder what that was all about? He was certainly not murdered. What was that about murders?" She asides to Kotone and Mashu, before shrugging. "Anyway, I think the way back is closed... and I really don't like those clown dolls, maybe leave your prize there?"     She looks at the blood one more time, sticking a pinky in the blood and then sucking the taste (probably with dirt, ewww) off her digit, thoughtfully analyzing it. "Definitely pig blood. Spooky! Should we continue?"     She prompts Kotone and Mashu with an almost eager look now, before--     LOL TOO LATE, Yuuki just starts tromping off towards the Ferris Wheel. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' Between those here... Finna decides, oddly enough, to stick with Staren. She bounds after the boy, sticking near walls to minimize the places things can jump out at her from. because it constantly feels like SOMETHING will be doing that in this awful, wicked place...     "Place is teeming with... malice. Feels like Underworld but WORSE..." She's inclined to follow her nose here...     "Gadget boy, come this way!" ONWARDS, THE NOSE KNOWS! 

:'''{{#var:1028|Shielder (1028)}} has posed:'''     THIS close it's harder for Mashu to not see and smell the blood. Peg that one down as a smell she'd have hoped never to find out what it's like, in such quantity, just splashed everywhere. The sight of the child causes something within her to spark, and just like that her clothes are replaced. Blue and purple wisps of magic gather up, forming black and purple armor over her whole body, replacing her clothes. Her glasses are gone, a bland sword hangs from a sash, and a massive cross-shaped shield has appeared, held upright, taller than the girl is. Her posture has changed dramatically-- she seems less... vulnerable? More confident? But her movements are also a bit stiffer.     A bubble forms around her, as a magical shield of anime-esque hexagons keeps at bay a minuscule portion of the Fog. It's not much-- the Fog is powerful-- but it means Kotone and Yuuki, if they stand close, can see a bit better, maybe breathe a bit better, than they could moments ago.     Sadly, all that ends up for nothing-- as before Mashu, now Shielder, can react to grab the child, he vanishes, taken away by whatever that was. The clowns laugh, too, but that's not new. Probably related, though.     "Hey, wait up!"     Yuuki is running off. Shielder keeps up, running after her, the metallic clanking of her greaves on the ground now much more obvious than her shoes were. The Totally Normal Girl is right, they need to continue and find out who's running this. Where that kid went. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' There was a horror movie, older than her dad about a killer clown, she'd foolishly watched It once on Halloween and felt quite wigged out about clowns ever since. Well this wasn't helping any feelings about that. She does not look back at the clowns, no she's too busy following the sent of blood. Chad the Chipmunk? The park's mascot wasn't it? Kotone wonders about that for a moment about that but what she sees behind the stall she follow the blood trail and sees kid she calls out. "It's okay we hav...." The child screams and then is gone, what is going on but she's pretty sure that was a rune of some sort she's almost positive on that. "Magic?!?!" She gets the comm working again and will try to examine the spot that glowed /without/ touching it, she knows Inga might be able to make sense of it later right? She looks to Yuuki and then to Mashu. "I came here to look into several missing children and I think that was one of them..." She takes a deep breath and then looks about unless something happens with the Rune? She's going to back off from it. I'd not be shocked if there had been murders here...Given this island's history." She doesn't get a chance to say more as Yuuki checks out the blood saying it's Pig's Blood and then asks them about if they should go on. Then she's just going leaving her and Mashu behind. She turns to Mashu who is in the process of transforming and Kotone just /stares/ for a second she wasn't expecting that and she does try to keep close as Shielder does seem to be keeping the fog somewhat at bay and she's thankfully able to keep pace with Shielder as she moves along headinf for the Ferris Wheel. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The group in the Haunted House chooses to stick together. This might be wise. Staren lunges up atop a bookshelf, trying to scope out the maze. This is clever! He gets a good look at the area from above as he pushes webs out of the way to get eyes on the layout. The problem is that these webs aren't just cotton... Something within them /moves/, and a piece of webbing falls away, slapping Staren in the face with a meaty THWAP. Finna sees it first: A withered, dessicated hand, showing signs of being ripped from an arm. The teethmarks on it indicate whatever it was... It was big. Finna's fur suddenly stands on end as something she understands well suddenly communicates through a shift in the webbing. The movement of a predator, suddenly awakened to prey moving through its territory... And with a cacaphonic SHRIEK, the webs part, a horrible grayish thing of flesh, web, and claw barrels forward, hurtling itself bodily at Staren in order to try to tackle it to the ground. From the way the forearms hook down, it's obvious that this is the usual tactic the thing uses to try to surprise its opposition, slay it, and feed... The creature itself has blood-splattered carnie clothes stuck to it, likely an indication of its last meal... Unfortunately, it looks like Staren's attempt to be clever took him and Finna a short distance from Riva, Kirika, and Inga. As they look around, Inga's gaze sweeps over an ornate mirror, and passes by it. Just them, really... And then there is a sudden /presence/ that pulls their gazes towards that mirror. There, standing within it, is a rotten, evil /thing/. Gangly and emaciated, the crooked being is dressed in a ragged black coat that trails behind, white gloves on long, clawed fingers, black pants on too-thin legs that bend in unnatural directions. A jaunty, battered tophat sits crookendly on top of a fetid mask of twisted evil. http://assets.vg247.com/current//2015/10/the_park.jpg Vision blurs, malevolence flooding the senses as it leans forward, grinning that terrible grin... And he splays his hands, and says... "Boo." http://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=788263074 A moment later, he vanishes, the apparition gone... And a moment later, the mirror shatters, a shrieking, bloodstained corpse lunging through the place where it stood, slamming down a fireaxe. Riva is already there, intercepting the strike. With her chest. She struggles to pull her Anima pistols around so she can pump the undead horror full of purifying light, but her hands are shaking wildly, the thing already pulling the fire axe from her chest with a nasty, sucking noise so it can strike again. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     That shriek makes Kirika's ears hurt badly, grunting as she clutches her head. "Nnngh. That noise..." She is not having a good time as there's something very nasty greeting them all of a suddenly.     Kirika first gently moves Inga to lean against something, before she proceeds to draw her sword. "HALT, CREATURE!" is her response to him going "boo" as though this were a prank of some sort.     If it is, she is not laughing. She's definitely not amused when a monster tries to put an axe in them, and does just that to Riva. "NO!!     Her sword swings at the bloody zombie carnie, intending to take his head right off with a blazing hot slash to the neck before he can free his axe. Riva WILL be avenged, dammit! 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' With her grip tight on her staff, Inga keeps moving, holding her head high and keeping her eyes keen, glaring at the place like it's existence offends her. Can't let it think you're scared. The mirror--of course it would be the mirror. Turns out she doesn't need to look into the spirit world to catch a glimpse. The white haired woman narrows her eyes--then is moved aside by Kirika. "H-hey!" she protests, but is effectively moved, wincing as Riva takes an axe to the chest. Inga growls the words of a spell as she quickly draws her knife and cuts into herself, flinging the healing spell toward Riva. All her offensive spells would light up Kirika too most likely, better to go with the healing. Though it seems Finna and Staren have problems as well! 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     A piece of webbing hits Staren in the face. Staren swats at it... and then, JUMPSCARE SPIDER! He startles and is tackled to the ground, but the stunned surprise lasts only half a second. This is hardly the first time he's ever had a monster up close. There's still armor between him and it. And after a half-second more, he's blasting it with the beam-cannons point-blank and stabbing it with two beam swords.     If that has no effect... or it starts cracking his armor or something, /then/ he'll be worried... 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' Indeed, Finna's instincts scream JUST in time. "M--" NO TIME TO EVEN SPEAK! The creature makes its move with speed even the Lunar considers IMPRESSIVE.     Of course her eyes dart about to get a read of the situation. Any way to turn the environment against this thing would be appreciated... though as they're hunting it in its lair, she doubts that'll turn out so simple to accomplish...     "Who are YOU hunting, /THING!?/" The fox spits, before it promptly transforms - metaphorically - into a killing machine of its own right. using the fact that it's going after Staren to her advantage, Finna darts in with ludicrous speed and... tries to find some kind of vitals to TEAR through with suddenly-glow-gleaming silvery fangs! 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The horrid bug-beast is a terrifying thing. Were one an unarmed, normal woman seeking out their lost child, it would be an unstoppable terror. Still, it is ultimately mortal, and you know what they say about things that bleed... The lasers sear into the creature, cracking the horrible chitin and web-wrapped shell. The heat sents the web on fire, sending it screeching for several moments before Finna delivers a brutal coup de grace. Finna tears into the revealed internals, pulling out black blooded horror that tastes of reeking, filthy entrails. This beast is horribly corrupt, not even able to be consumed by a greater predator. Even tasting its blood makes Finna's stomach churn... Were Finna not an Exalt, it would undoubtedly be far, far worse than that. Still, the cockroachlike horror is hurled down, twitching as eyes mutely fixate on Finna... The results should be answer enough to her question. In the meantime, Riva falls to one side as Kirika efficiently avenges the Templar. With a quivk splatter of blood, undead flesh parts under the enchanted blade, and the zombie is sheared apart, the shriek fading away as burning tatters collapse to the ground. Inga, meanwhile, saves Riva a nasty trip to the Shadow World. What is the realm of the Dead like in this horrible place? For now, Riva won't have to answer that question, as the Templar's wound quickly unmakes itself, her flesh stitching together thanks to Inga's sacrificial blood magic. She groans, sitting up and smiling in thanks to Inga and Kirika. "Wow. That... That sucked..." She mumbles, clearly disturbed by the situation. Still, in the aftermath of the death and pain, the distant sound of a cry is heard... And the scent of fresh blood crosses the noses of Inga and Finna. Blood. Fresh blood. Prey blood. Pain blood crying blood child blood human blood blood blood blood It takes little time. With Staren's capability to provide a map as well as the supernatural senses of Inga and Finna, navigating the remainder of the maze is not difficult at all. There are no more attacks, just loud recorded noises and plywood cutouts that leap from the darkness, to be destroyeed or ignored as the group is wont. But what they find is a door. The door opens into a small study. Comfortable. Classy. There is a leather chair sitting next to a fireplace, the walls full of books. Within, there is a crying child, the boy looking up as his hands drip with blood. With a sob, he stands, reaching out to the group as he staggers forward... The dripping blood then draws their gaze to the complicated, circuit-like pattern inlaid into the floor. As the blood strikes it, it flares, a terribly actinic purple that spreads throughout the room, tracing the entire pattern as the child cries out, vanishing amidst a low, mocking cackle. Riva stares at the proceedings. "... Dammit." She mutters. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Thanks!" Staren calls to Finna, and quickly stands once the cockroach/spider horror is off of him.     They map the maze, and come upon...     Staren is wary, unsure if the child is a vision, or a monster, or actually a child. "Was that child real?" Whatever the answer, the next question is: "...This is clearly some sort of ritual diagram. Can anyone tell what it does?" He looks around. "And if that was a real kid, who cut his hands...?" 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     KIrika helps Riva to her feet, nodding to Inga as the wise woman provides a spell to the both of them. "Thank you." SHe feels her injuries knit together, before she helps both girls along further to the end of the maze.     Good thing Staren was here, or this would actually be a problem. THey enter the study, just in time to see a horror show of a scene in front of them. Kirika's not sure if they're seeing something real, but she definitely can't help but approach the crying child.     Sadly she's stopped by the horrific purplish glow, leaving her to recoil as the boy disappears.     Her heart just sinks for a moment, and the kitsune closes her eyes, sighing resignedly. "ANother lost to this evil...will it ever end?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:''' Finna spends the next fifteen seconds spitting and retching, unwilling to tolerate even a shred of that thing's flesh in her maw longer than necessary. "Worse than yeddim shit!" She curses, gagging.     Whatever that thing was.. it wasn't a normal beast. Not even a mutant. "Filthy creature... hard to smell it over the miasma..."     So she ends up following along with the rest of the group, reaching the chamber just in time to see...     What kind of sick blood magic (the bad kind, not the Inga kind!) was she looking at?!     "... Boy might not be dead, but I can't see where I need to look. Maybe Inga can!" 
}}

2245/As It Turns Out, Teenage Heroes Have Problems

2016-01-18T11:02:52Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/05/14 |Location=Galianda |Synopsis=The Light Warriors have a heart-to-heart. Soda is involved. |Thanks= |Cast of Characters=626, 628, 633, 642..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/05/14
|Location=Galianda
|Synopsis=The Light Warriors have a heart-to-heart. Soda is involved.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=626, 628, 633, 642, 655, 766
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:628|Kamon Lionward (628)}} has posed:''' A WHILE AGO Kamon proposes that, in light of the Light Warriors' recent, uh, issues, they go for a GROUP ACTIVITY. This is largely an excuse for a bunch of highly-trained hero-types to get away from school and go somewhere far away. Given the Multiverse is a bit too broad to just jump in random warpgates (they'd end up in the Confederate HQ somehow), they've kept it local. Mostly. RIGHT ABOUT NOW The group hikes on a winding path up and around the slopes of Titan. The Sky-Breaking Mountain is majestic and impressive, and they basically picked a direction off the beaten path once they cleared the Span and just /went/. People warned them to be careful, but they're adventurers. They'll be fine. "...haven't been this way in a few years," Kamon says, walking up the narrow, rough trail. The rock faces are broken up by huge patches of moss, growing vertically in crevices and near the path. It provides color to the landscape. The sky stretches out to the left, clear and bright. "There aren't any dungeons or ruins around here, I don't think, so it's pretty much just us." Kamon glances over his shoulder. He's got an iron-shod staff for a walking stick, and it taps against the ground while he walks. The path ahead winds around the cliffs at the edge of one. It's a long way down, but it's wide enough to be safe enough. "How's everyone feeling?" 

:'''{{#var:633|Soan Sagittarius (633)}} has posed:''' A WHILE AGO      You'd think with someone being able to make elaborate, mechanical traps with wiring, that he would be able to build a display case. It's just some planks, some glass pannels, some nails, some screws. It started simple enough. Put plank B with screw H, twirl with instrument D, hold together then screw plank C and D together with screw I and J. Half an hour later, Soan Sagittarius was in a mess of planks, broken things when ... issues started. In a terrible way, he was glad to see a change of scenery.      NOW      Soan was tasked with bringing snaks, a job that he took quite seriously. Over his back is a large backpack, several pouches, bags dangles from it. Being the packrat that he is, he caught the liberty to bring along a tent. If they are going away from civilization and /go/, they'll need a big tent. So he did. Never mind that, if this does not involves some fire and marshmallow, he'll be surprised.      So Soan came prepared.      "I haven't been here at all, I don't think." The Thief says, keeping a good hold of all the equipment he bought along, looking around at the group. He's not out of breath, even if he's sweating a bit. It'd be easier to /jump/ to the top, but that's not the point of this. "I'm doing OK. You guys?" He asks, looking around at the group. 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:'''     Sometimes she feels she's got to (bum bum) get away...     Since meeting up with the others it's become pretty clear that Kyra looks rather shellshocked following the results of the call. Getting out and being around her friends is pretty much exactly what she needs right now, if only to take her mind off what just happened between her and her parents.     Kyra geared up with snacks, potions, and emergency explosives because this is Titan and Random Encounters Can Happen At Any Time. She's also opted for a more comfortable, less jingly set of boots to hike in since she knew that there'd be lots of that involved. Leather gloves are on her hands with metal fingertips, ideal for grabbing on to rock faces.     "A bit better, actually." Kyra speaks up, though not nearly approaching her usual mad scientist schoolgirl cheer. "Thanks, Kamon, this was a pretty great idea." As the path nears the cliff edge, Kyra pauses to take a picture of the view with her phone.     Additionally, unlike prior excusions, this one will not be televised. Kyra's wearable camera is nowhere in sight. 

:'''{{#var:655|Dominic Masoch (655)}} has posed:''' Dominic is here, albeit dressed much more casually than people usually see him. He's got on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a backpack across his back that has his sword flashed to the side of it, "I'm doing alright," He replies to Kamon in a moderately tired tone. While Fencers had some training and required a lot of fitness, mountain hikes were never not a tiring thing. "It is a lovely area. I don't think I have ever seen cause to come out this way before today." He probably looks less weary than Kyra. His exile was a quieter affair than hers and hit him less emotionally. Trying, yes, but he'd rather people focus more on Kyra's well-being than his own. "I appreciate you showing it to us, Kamon." 

:'''{{#var:642|Landon al Cid (642)}} has posed:'''      How *is* everyone feeling?      Landon al Cid, Prince of Ramuh, is not feeling all that great. The drama of Kyra's family isn't exactly unknown; a declaration like that goes out fast among people with the right channels, and Landon is absolutely one of the people with the right channels. There's very little in the social circles of Ramuh that Landon's family isn't aware of immediately, and very little that Landon doesn't keep aware of. His silence is more telling than, likely, anything else could possibly be - a silence that's stretched through most of the climb. If not for his armor, and him moving to take point because of it, people might have forgotten Landon was even there.      His Judge Blade has been manifest the entire time. He's barely said anything, aside from when they picked him up, when he smiled politely and said that that was a lovely idea, and that he would be happy to come with them. 

:'''{{#var:766|Ellard Asha (766)}} has posed:''' Ellard Asha, That Guy From Class, looks kind of like a pack mule. Tall for sixteen, like most Odynari, and pretty compactly ripped, he has electric green highlight in his iron grey hair, today. He wears his customary breastplate/leather jacket combination. He is also wearing a new tower shield, pretty plain, since it came from the group budget, a huge seven foot wooden case, a light camping backpack, and two ice chests. He makes a lot of noise as he walks, but he just seems pleased to be there. "I never got much of a chance to explore the mountain much, it'll be nice." 

:'''{{#var:628|Kamon Lionward (628)}} has posed:''' There's a nod. Nobody expresses distress at the choice of activity. That's good! "It's kind of out of the way, but... well, it's nothing; just enjoy it." Kamon smiles back at the majority of the group. Landon, clad in steel and about as emotive as a slab of it, pretty much won't see it. "There's a good place to take a breather up ahead, I think." They walk along the cliffside. The wind isn't quite howling, but there's a breeze. Kamon keeps a steady pace, tiring but not grueling. The path narrows and turns to the right, out of sight, until it opens into a wide rock ledge. Things open up again over there. The ledge itself is carpeted in rich green moss, a soft layer of it from one end to the other. It's like the Titanic equivalent of grass. Further back, a row of three enormous heads are carved out of the mountainside. They're weathered and old, cracked in places, but the shape of them still remains. They aren't completely humanoid. Monsters and other creatures appear to be cut in relief along the curving walls of this little haven, but it's equally weathered. It would be a good ampitheater if it wasn't facing open air and a long, long drop. "Here we go. Ellard, you can put that stuff down over there." Kamon points off to a side. "Take a breather, grab a bite, and we'll move along in a little bit." 

:'''{{#var:633|Soan Sagittarius (633)}} has posed:''' "Ahhhhh!" Soan exclaims, setting down some of his bags to take in the sight of the place. This is something you can only see if you go to Titan. Tall, yet grounded, with massive statues dotting an area. "This is a great place, Kamon. Kudos, sir, kudos." He cheerfully adds. He does his best to at least be cheerful, perhaps a bit moreso than usual. Landon worries him, not to mention Kyra and Dominic. He's getting a feeling that the Prince is probably taking it the worse than the two of them are, at all.      Soan sits down, fishing into his bag, several containers set beside him. "Now, I've got some fruit salad, some sandwiches -- cheese, peanut butter, several meats, at that, some nice crackers and stick, some puddings of the chocolate kind" The Thief goes on, setting down the trail-sized parts on a step. "Go ahead, serve yourself, guys, just don't eat too much. We got a bit to go, still!" 

:'''{{#var:642|Landon al Cid (642)}} has posed:'''      Landon is probably not taking it worse than Kyra, but he's taking it pretty poorly.      Landon is well aware of what this means. As someone well-aware of the massive and intricate political network that is Galianda, Landon knows all the little dominos that are going to fall as a result of this. Many of them do come down on him - not the least of which, his own freedoms may be heavily restricted in order to protect the people of Ramuh from certain other individuals. That's the selfish issue, though.      The other selfish issue is that, now, Landon is in the awkward position of associating with someone who is, quite literally, declared Heretical, and anything he does in that regard is going to be troublesome, because if he uses any influence at all with the Church of Cosma, or encourages his father to do so, it will mean a fair segment of the population imagining that the nobility is corrupt enough to try and overturn the rulings of their deity. The alternative is to spend time with someone who has been declared literally a member of the Enemy, which, both as a Judge and a member of the Royal Family, he simply cannot do.      So he either loses a friend, loses his honor, damages the Family's honor and position, or...      Or...      Well, he hasn't thought of an 'or'. That's part of why he's been taking the climb. Landon sinks down against the wall of the cliff, his eyes sinking shut along with him. There wasn't a solution he could see, but it didn't mean one wouldn't manifest. In the meantime, he just had to...carry on, and make some sacrifices, and...      ...and he wasn't sure.      But he'd never been so angry with his friends before.      He'd...never really had a lot of friends other than Cirra before, either. And Cirra was...different. Important to him in a lot of ways, but different ways. That relationship had always and would always be different, no matter what happened, which made a lot of other things difficult, as well.      Landon also brought his own food along. It's just standard procedure for him on adventures - not that he doesn't trust them, but there's a certain precision you have to exercise as Prince, a certain paranoia that it bred into you if you wanted to stay alive in a world full of guys like Souji Murasame. It was just...part of the game. Part of the deal.      So Landon eats, carrying on his silence as he wracks his brain for an answer that he knows probably doesn't exist. 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:'''     "A breather, good." Kyra sighs, "I could use that." Literally, it looks like, by the redness on her face.     Landon's presence is actually an awkward thing for Kyra and it doesn't help that he's being very quiet today. She's avoided going near him during this hike, sticking closer to (unsurprisingly) Dominic. Every now and then she looks from the ex-Masoch to the Prince to see if anything is exchanged between them. Landon's disapproval, while it stung, was actually a little unexpected-she hadn't been friends with him before the Light Warriors were formed. Dominic, on the other hand...     She worried.     However, it's hard to stay worried when physical exertion is being had and for Kyra, it's a pretty significant thing. Yet, she pushes herself to keep up with the others, even managing to match Dominic's long-legged stride.     She's all too happy to take that breather and plops down on the moss-covered ledge, arms behind her as she leans back. Once she's caught her breath, she'll swipe one of the sandwhiches and take another picture of their surroundings. 

:'''{{#var:766|Ellard Asha (766)}} has posed:''' Ellard, who has trained by swinging a sword that weighs a hundred pounds while there are boulders strapped to his arms, doesn't seem to be worried much. He sets his burdern down next to some rocks, positioning the coolers first, then setting his pack down. He pops open each cooler for the others. There's water, but there's a lot of fizzy Ramuh sodas. That done, he sets down the pack as well and turns up towards the carved heads. Ellard may not be filming everything, but he at least takes pictures. This is really weird for Ellard, because he doesn't know everyone that well. So he is here with a lot of pent up tension on everyone's side BUT his. And his mother is a Mediator. Ellard feels the tense silence. He doesn't like it. So he fills it with talk. "I've been to Titan before. Travelled a lot. I just didn't get much time to explore, you know? It's a wonderful place to really feel at peace with the world." 

:'''{{#var:655|Dominic Masoch (655)}} has posed:''' Ellard gets a look from Dominic. Not a hostile one, more one of curiosity. That he was so happily carrying around so much equipment is somewhat baffling. He asks to Ellard partway up, "Would you... like some help?" He inquires, looking up at the large man. Best to be polite, after all. Landon is given a semi-wide berth, however. Having known the Prince most of their lives, he recognizes when his friend doesn't want to discuss something. He also recognizes when actions are going to probably create tensions or minor rifts. Approaching Landon on this topic now, of all times, was not condusive to the relaxing experience Kamon wanted. Nor would it bode well for the serenity of the events. If he and Landon were to have the discussion (argument), it would be well behind closed doors. He pats Kyra on the back a couple times to try to reassure her and then says, "Oh wow, Soan. All the food sounds delicious." And then he looks to Ellard, "Titan is a gorgeous place. I wish I could travel here more often, though perhaps time can be found after graduation." He remarks, thinking on it while he grabs one of those Ramuhan soda. Phoenix: A Fiery Surge of Energy it reads across the label as he takes the cap off. 

:'''{{#var:628|Kamon Lionward (628)}} has posed:''' Kamon could practically feel the tension radiating off most of the group in waves the moment they set out together. It's lessened somewhat; physical exertion with your fellows can help take the edge off. Unfortunately, a dull sword can be even more dangerous than a sharp one, as Kamon well knows. They've got to do /something/ about all this. Swinging his own pack off and giving Soan a brief nod, Kamon leans his staff and bag against a rock face. He sits down on a jutting chin from one of the enormous stone faces; it's about the right height to make a good seat. He's more or less seated centrally to the whole place, even if it wasn't meant to be a chair at all. "I did a lot of travelling with my dad when I was younger," Kamon tells Ellard. "I went all over the world before enrolling in the Academy. It taught me a lot." And left a lot of gaps in his education, a nagging voice in his head says. Kamon promptly ignores it. He keeps talking instead. "We spent a lot of time together, you know? Just me and him." "There was one time -- I don't even remember what he did, but I got it into my head that it was his fault mom wasn't with us. I was so mad at him." Kamon smiles a little and shakes his head. "I couldn't tell him, though. I mean, I couldn't be mad at /him/, I lived with him. So I just ignored it, and let it sit, and said everything was okay. Then, days, weeks later, we're climbing up Titan, and we get to this place full of big faces, and I see one." He taps his heel on the one he's sitting on. "And I don't know what about it does it, but I just... I lose it." "Must've yelled for what felt like hours. Just us, the stones and the sky listening in. We knew things would get tense, but we were close, so how bad could it be?" He shrugs. "It took that to teach us that we had to let each other in, too, not just share one another's food and company, if we really wanted to handle the whole world together." Kamon looks to the sky, lapsing into perhaps pointed silence. 

:'''{{#var:766|Ellard Asha (766)}} has posed:''' Ellard grins at Dominic, "Hey, I'm okay. I'm used to this sort of thing." Ellard is a lower classman, so he does a lot of the grunt work in his various clubs. The offer is clearly appreciated though. He reaches into the cooler and fishes out a Diabolos: Double Dark Sour Grape. He screws the top off with a brief twist. Ellard takes a gulp to mask the grimace of 'what to do after graduation', only to turn towards Kamon. He goes silent again, then uneasily, he responds, "There are things I want to say to my father now. But I can't. I let them stay in too long." He takes another gulp, but this time the grimace is from SUPER SOUR ACTION. 

:'''{{#var:633|Soan Sagittarius (633)}} has posed:'''      Soan can sense the tension as well. As he finishes setting up the little food gallery, the Thief sits back while picking up a sandwich for himself as well. His eyes flies from person to person, Light Warriors. "Hey, thanks. Particularly since I was a bit on a time limit to get this done."      And by 'getting this done', he mean 'he got someone to do it for him, faster than he ever could'. Not that they need to know that, mind you. He grabs one of the Phoenix Soda Cans, cracking it open, then lays back.      Then Kamon starts sharing a story. It's not a story that he heard from him before. He haven't travelled much around the world, despite being someone that actually /could/ go anywhere he damn well wanted. Soan adjust his feet, leaning an arm over a bent knee, looking at his Odinari friend.      He can't really relate to any of them with the family problem they have. He never really had one. The closest he had was the Dragoon Temple... which, admittedly, is pretty close. But a weighty, crushing family tradition from the past? That's not something he understands, emotionally.      "It's hard." Soan says, taking in a deep breath, letting Kamon's story sink in. "To open up like that, is it not?" 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:'''     Although Dominic is trying to be reassuring, their privately-exchanged words do anything but that for Kyra. Still, she says nothing, not trying to bring up the subject out loud.     Then Kamon plops himself down and tells a story of his past with his old many that is about as subtle to the current situation as a rabid behemoth. She can easily see what he's getting at and were it coming from anyone else but Kamon, she wouldn't take the bait. But Kamon is Kamon. He's not the Law. He's not the Authority. "...it's not fair." Kyra says, her voice wavering, "Just getting disowned would have been fine but they took it too damn far! /Cherem/. My parents are /crazy/! They can hate me all they want but noooo they have to drag everyone else that can listen into their little stupid power trip." Her words become more and more disjointed as she speaks, like a robot gradually breaking down.     "It wasn't supposed to change how my friends feel about me either." she looks at Landon briefly for this before her shoulders slump. "Urgh. And Dominic, what they did to you wasn't fair either." 

:'''{{#var:655|Dominic Masoch (655)}} has posed:'''     Dominic draws in a flinching breath as what happens to him is brought up, "Ah, that was supposed to remain quiet, but I suppose gossip was to get out eventually," He gives a dismissive wave, one of the more relaxed gestures he's picked up since joining the Light Warriors, "What happened to me is fair. It was necessary for the Masoch family and the company to survive. I accept this."     He sips at the soda a bit and looks to Ellard, "Has it been too long?" He asks curiously. He's not sure if Ellard's father is dead, and doesn't want to make that misstep, "If so, it is truly a shame. If not, you will never find a better time. Letting things stay in for too long only hurts more."     He'll fish around for a bag of Bomb Brand Potato Chips and open it, popping one in his mouth and then going, "Ah. Shoot. Forgot how spicy these are." He comments as he sits down next to Kyra and munches on another. He looks to Kamon slowly, "Yelling in a place such as this. I can see the appeal of it. So isolated, no one would know. You could simply let the emotions flow." 

:'''{{#var:642|Landon al Cid (642)}} has posed:'''      At that, at long last, Landon speaks. His eye opens, falling on Kyra and Dominic.      "It does not matter what it was supposed to do, or what it was meant to do," he says, "It does not matter what your intentions were, or what you sought, or what you desired. You acted on your desires and put them ahead of the consequences. Something as selfish and self-centered as 'unfair'...those are the words of a child."      The Prince's other eye opens. His eyes are stern, and he bears a greater resemblance to his father than he probably has in a long time. That's likely no coincidence. "Your decision was to pursue happiness, regardless of what your family, your friends, or anyone else thought. That is to be applauded, if it is done with care, with thought, and with an understanding of what will happen. But that isn't what happened, is it?" Landon's voice turns hard.      "What happened is that you lashed out, with an ill-thought-out rebellion, and are suffering for it. There were a hundred ways to escape Murasame's grasp and remain in the Union, but you chose the one that you either knew, or understood, would anger your family most. And they punished you. Whether it was extreme or not is not my place to judge; the affairs of blood are only mine to determine where it affects the realm or the law."      Landon shifts positions, draping a gauntleted arm over his knee. "What has happened now is that the Prince is friends with a heretic, that Murasame has an excuse to break your betrothal before anyone is ready to absorb the consequences, and that I must acknowledge that my friends acted without thought for how their actions might affect others around them."      "And, yes, that is selfish of me. I should not be so angered that my friends are happy, even if it costs me greatly. But as a result of these consequences, I may not be able to remain your friend. I may not be able to remain your ally." Landon closes his eyes. "And I would like very much to avoid that, because despite my frustration, despite that this has inflicted upon me at least one and possibly more deep and binding wounds and chains, I still value your friendship quite highly, even if I currently feel that you are terribly irresponsible."      "I am trying to think of a solution that can escape the declaration of Cherem. If it builds - and Murasame, or someone else, most assuredly will find a way to afflict the Faith of the Divines with the same odious opinion - then I will not be able to remain part of this club unless you are exiled, and that I will not do."      Landon heaves a long sigh and flicks his eyes at Kamon, a tired smile spreading across his face. "I trust that satisfies the moral of your story well enough. I could not make my innermost thoughts more clear."      And just like that, he lapses into silence again. 

:'''{{#var:766|Ellard Asha (766)}} has posed:''' There's a lot of awkward silence. Ellard sits up straighter and points at his drink, "Boy, you know, this is a lot more sour than they say it is." 

:'''{{#var:628|Kamon Lionward (628)}} has posed:''' Kamon is neither the Law nor an Authority. He's just Kamon. He is what he is. "You should think about whether that's really true," Kamon says to Ellard, largely echoing Dominic's sentiment. He smiles a little again. "I wonder if unsaid things to parents is just a common Odynari thing. Iron-wrapped bones, homeland full of monsters, father issues..." Kamon looks to Soan. Kamon nods. "Yeah. Letting down your guard like that? It's... not really fun. There were times..." He trails off, looking between Dominic and Kyra instead. They've got the bigger issues here; his own problems can wait. He listens to the two of them, mulling it all over. Landon does the next best thing to exploding. He sounds... well, he sounds like a /prince/. He's coming at this from every angle the rest of them either haven't or don't want to consider, and nothing he's said is outrageous or untrue. Does it satisfy his story? Well... Kamon breathes a slow breath. He's quiet for a long moment. Ellard comments on a drink's sourocity, and it takes all his considerable willpower to not crack up and ruin the moment even further. "I don't really know what to say," Kamon finally starts. "I haven't been keeping up with all of you as well as I should have, or been there when I should've. I... lost someone," he says, staring out into the sky, "during the fighting around the new year. We used to be close, but I think she died resenting me." "I guess I was worried that..." He trails off, and he shakes his head. "I don't know. That maybe one of you would decide you wanted to be there one day, and that I'd lose you, too, and that you'd hate me for it before it was over. It's -- it was stupid. But," Kamon says, standing and taking another breath, "between that, and what you two are going through," he nods at Kyra and Dominic, "and what Landon's dealing with because of /that/..." Kamon looks at the collected Light Warriors. It isn't all of them; that's fine, though. The others will know, sooner or later. A strong core is where you have to start. "We're the Light Warriors," the Odynari says. "Whether we've been friends for a long time or a little, we've been in this together, and going forward, we still will be. Right now, it doesn't matter what the rest of the world thinks of us. It doesn't matter if they think we're evil, or if they say we aren't one of them, or if they thumb their noses at the company we keep." He spreads his arms. "We know what we are, and /who/ we are." "And that's why I wanted you all out here," Kamon says, letting his arms drop. "Because you all need to know that, no matter what happens, I'm with you. I've got your backs. And knowing we're there for each other when the hammer falls... that's important." 

:'''{{#var:655|Dominic Masoch (655)}} has posed:'''     "Landon," Dominic begins, speaking carefully. He doesn't want to step in against the prince. Or step in against Kyra. The Fencer takes a long few moments to look at the prince and then carefully says, "The al Cid dynasty on Ramuh was founded on an ill-thought-out rebellion that most people probably thought was a terrible idea at the time."     It's not a defense of Kyra. It's not an admonishment of Landon. It's simply a normative statement of fact that can be taken and reflected on at leisure by both sides. He grips the soda in his hands tightly and then takes a slow breath. He looks to his friend and states, "But, if I may be so bold as to cash in years of our good will to ask you a question..."     "How much of your anger is truly directed at Kyra?" He squarely stares Landon in the eyes and adds, "Since Galianda has joined the Multiverse," A term he's trying to deliberately use out of discomfort of many people over Extraverse, "You have been under constant pressure from some source or another. Shiva. Inter-Ramuhan politics. Diplomacy within the faction. If it was not this, then who would say what the pressure or leverage may have been. And while I don't belittle your frustration, which you are entitled to, how much of that is simply you finally having a focal point and a person to direct it at?"     Dominic takes a slow breath, figuring out how to move to his next point.     "I never stood by Ramuh, it's politics are over-ornate and abusive," Dominic says as he looks to Landon seriously, "But I stood, and will stand, by the al Cids for so long as one of them calls on me. Because I believe in what Cid of Ramuh stood for all that time ago. The belief that, against all odds, all public opinion, and all common sense... that a man could fight for what he truly believed in, follow the path he truly sought, and he would be celebrated for it." He takes a careful pause, "That's why I chose this path for myself, against wisdom and caution."     He looks around the group, nodding to Kamon slowly, "It took the Light Warriors to show me what I actually wanted. I've accepted whatever consequences will arise from my path."     He puts down his soda bottle and looks to Landon again, "And if they come for my name again because the quiet severence of my name wasn't enough, I'll be Dominic al Light Warriors or something," He tries to inject a note of brevity, "But this is what I truly want to do, Landon." 

:'''{{#var:633|Soan Sagittarius (633)}} has posed:'''      Soan listens. He gets a lot of their fear. Landon is worried on a lot, he has quite a lot weighted on his mind. What he didn't know, however, was Kyra being called a Cherem. He looks at her with surprised eyes, his hand laying down on the stone, squeezing it down, scratching with his fingers. Stupid Cosmoa Church fanatics. In what rights did you have to call someone just as worse as the Enemy, where all she's done is... nothing of the sorts. Nothing nearly that bad. She is the last to relate to Chaos.      Yet, there's nothing he can do it about it. He's just a Dragoon. Dragoons has nothing to say in the Church's affairs. Not just that, but he's still a /young/ Dragoon.      Then Ellard says something, just as he's drinking out of his soda, to gain some time to formulate something to say, while that everyone is pouring out their hearts'. Unlike Kamon, Soan was completly caught offguard by it, snorting out a laugh from just how out of case things were.      As well as a good dose of the soda that comes out of his nose.      "Gaaaah!" Sagittarius grunts out, rubbing his noise with his sleeve to ignore the delicious bubbly pain going through his, admittedly, over developed sense of smell, cringing out in pain with an herculean effort to not too much of a fuss.      "AND!" The Thief lets out loudly, as loudly is the only thing he can as he wipes his nose with his jacket's sleeve. Bloody hell, and he had to take PHOENIX's soda, "We'll be here for you guys. We may not always make the best decisions. We may not know everything... but that's why we made the Light Warriors. So we can /learn/." Soan says, looking foward Landon.      "We'll figure it out. You're not alone thinking on this," He muffles over his clothing, still grinding it over. He's REALLY not dignified. "They'll learn about it, no doubts. They probably already have. We can't do much about the Church's offensive statements. What we can do, is be us, then tackle thoses problems. We're not alone, either. Remember."      Soan snaps, letting out a growl before pulling out his head. "Gaaaaah! Oh Divines, this /sting/!" 

:'''{{#var:766|Ellard Asha (766)}} has posed:''' Ellard doesn't have enough ground here to make a dramatic speech. His training from his mother says that Landon is doing what he needs to do because Landon is a PRINCE and he's covering his ass. Also, dropping that his father is dead right this second will probably ruin everyone else's moment, so he keeps it under his hat. Instead, he leans back, considering as everyone talks. He considers his own bastard family history, then takes another sugary and sour sip. He gulps it down, turning his head up to the sky. Ellard looks back and forth at the sky, considering. "You could take a bold stance. You stay within the Light Warriors because it is important, but you allow your compatriots to do as they please. It's not your job to manage their family dealings and they are mature enough to deal with the fall out on their own. You can say outright 'It is not my business. It is theirs, I don't want to get my personal feelings into it.'" Ellard pauses, holding up the drink and one finger, "You can say you told Kyra of your disapproval, so you aren't responsible for the action of others, you aren't her guardian. You informed her she was making the wrong decision, she did it anyways, it's out of your hands." Ellard then brings his head down, drinks, "Short them anyways." 

:'''{{#var:626|Kyra Hyral (626)}} has posed:'''     Honestly, Kyra had been hoping for /some/ validation. At least someone to tell her that it was going to be alright even though it felt like her plan had backfired-or rather, just worked a little TOO well. It's not what she's hearing-instead, given a demonstration of Landon's political savvy, revealing further problems the fallout has caused that she hadn't yet anticipated.     Kyra looks distant. "We weren't friends before you joined the Light Warriors, Landon. It's only been some months...it'd be easy for you to go back to before that." She sounds...resigned. Defeated. Fighting with her parents was one thing. Fighting with her friends was something she didn't have the stomach for, especially not now.     She eventually looks up again when Kamon starts to speak, especially when he notes that he lost someone he knew around Ascending/Descending Odin. She'd have to offer condolences-later. "Kamon..." she says quietly, "I.." she starts to tear up a little, "I'll always be a Light Warrior. All of you are all the family I ever need." Yet still, she feels regret. Would they have had better ideas for evading her arranged marriage? And arranging it so she could continue doing things in the extraverse at large? "And next time I'll come to my real family first." It seems like a spot where she might laugh but Kyra finds no laughter coming out.     At last, though, Dominic speaks to Landon and Kyra watches on with apprehension. Nothing Landon said previously was directed at Dominic but then again, his punishment wasn't as severe as being declared as an enemy of the Church of Cosma. In a way it seemed to highlight her perceived unfairness of her parent's reaction. The thought, though, of being Landon's scapegoat hadn't really occurred to her but in retrospect, she was not unaware of the various political pressures Landon has been under lately, especially with the Shiva turmoil. But to what Dominic's said, Kyra doesn't chime in with anything to add. In fact, she's grown quiet again. 

:'''{{#var:642|Landon al Cid (642)}} has posed:'''      Landon remains quiet for a long moment, as the others say their dramatic monologues. Finally, he sighs.      "Dominic al Light Warriors is the stupidest name I've ever heard," he notes with a smile, "Not that al Cid is much better, but..."      Landon sighs. "I suppose I have also been a bit selfish. I apologize. I truly, truly am delighted for my friends, and in no way will I ever abandon friends in a time of need."      "It does not matter that you are being excised by the Church. It does not matter that it will cause strife. Yes, I am frustrated. Yes, I am worried."      Landon stands and moves over to sit with the rest of the group, a smile on his face. "But you are my friends, and even if I am angry with you, it will pass. We will deal with this as a group - as Kamon, as Soan, say, we will do." 

:'''{{#var:633|Soan Sagittarius (633)}} has posed:'''      Soan takes a deep breath. The pain's gone, this was a little embarassing, but it's something to remember, anyway. "You know," He begins, quietly, looking up at the group. His hand lie back down on the stone he's squeezed, feeling some of the indentations he left into it. "I do admire you guys for several things. I wouldn't know if it was the right decision or the most optimal one, but... it was a decision. You decided to /do/ something, instead of lamenting, suffering the pressure, the weight that was crushing you."      He looks at Kyra and Dominic, smiling at them. "I can't really understand the pressure your families put upon you two. That's something you two have on me. The Dragoons were my family for much of what I remember, so... I have an idea of what it must have taken for you two to do what you did."      He looks upward to the sky, taking in a deep breath. "I can imagine a little the void it must've made... even if they frustrated you to no end."      Soan stands up, dusting his hands off to look at the group. "We'll have a lot ahead of us. We picked the name 'Light Warrior' originally, partially, to appeal to Doctor King. I think it have another meaning."      He points at the assembled people, Ellard, Kyra, Kamon, Dominic, Landon. "The Light binds things together. Sometimes things hides behind it as a mask. Sometimes it blinds. But the Light is what brings people together. It guides. Gallianda's new to a grand new whole, it's scared. We're scared, and we suffered through that. We likely will more. We have problems of our own. Further brewing, too, that we might not know."      The Dragoon lends out an hand to the others. "We may be just a few teenagers in a whole, big ocean of people, problems bigger than us, but we can be together. Let us shine to guide each others, support each others... and be who we are, we will guide who wants to be guided. Let this be what a Light Warrior mean." 

}}

3647/Perspective In Potentia

2016-01-11T19:51:17Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2016/01/11 |Location=Land of Steel |Synopsis=A return to the Land of Steel, where a Liner settlement is revealed and a few new actors take the stag..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2016/01/11
|Location=Land of Steel
|Synopsis=A return to the Land of Steel, where a Liner settlement is revealed and a few new actors take the stage. Feat: FIRETRUCK RED, THE TRUE MAIN CHARACTER.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=7, 42, 518, 525, 527, 687, 711, 887
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' THE LAND OF STEEL is a lonely, desolate place. The warp-gate the Union (and friends) takes to get there highlights this excellently, being on an island of dead soil amidst a number of nearly-identical islands in what once once a city park. The ruined husks of skyscrapers fill the dull grey skyline, towering like the corpses of giants. The gate itself is one of several sets of huge concentric stone rings in an old piece of art, gradually narrowing at one end and widening at the other. A gazebo rests on a nearby island, across waterless trenches and dilapidated bridges. On the face of the decaying gazebo facing the gate, the shape of a feline face with too-wide eyes has been crudely carved. What looks like a tarp with unidentified scraps of meat and the occasional and identical empty silver wrapper is laid out beneath it. The meaning is clear: leave your gifts and go. The path the group that came this way previously took does not lead to a cottage surrounded by a grotesque fence. Instead, it leads to an old road, cracked and pitted, which stretches into the distance. Checking for signs of life reveals nothing, and the world is covered by uniform grey sand. Scanning instead for signs of /civilization/ finds strong signals coming from nearby, signs of communication from technological sources clearly evident. The old road leads to a river, and on the river sits an honest-to-goodness settlement. It's a dark grey dome, curving out over the edge of the wide river where it meets a bay. The water is grey and rippling, motion carried from enormous pipes that go from the side of the dome into the waters. What looks like patched and battered watercraft skim the surface, moving towards a huge, well-lit opening in the side of the dome where metal docks jut outward. The group can see what looks like a group of hovercrafts descending a hill on the near side of the dome, not too far from them. They move in single file, with perfect formation and obvious purpose, towards a giant gate that yawns open to admit them into the interior. It looks like even the most desolate of worlds still has trade, if a caravan like that is running. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki Kuran is a normal girl, possesed of an extremely high-school nosy busybody Good Girl who just wants to help people! And that is why her bodyguard (she is a normal private high school girl with a bodyguard because she's also nobility, or something, look do I have to explain it beyond 'hella shojo as hell' and throw some flower film-filters on it?) had to remind her to wear PROTECTION, because deadly air abstinance is the best form of death prevention.     As she heads through the circular Gate, in her snow coat and jeans and fuzzy boots, she spots the shrine, and approaches the tarp. "Oh, this is so dirty! Shrines should be clean." She murmurs, and brushes the detritus to the side, before reaching into a pocket, and producing a pencil case full of candy that she upends. There! Candy for the totally innocent catgod.     Standing and turning, she looks to the rest of the (ostensible) group. "Should we get going? We should find some people to help out! In the settlement, maybe?" 

:'''{{#var:711|Corona Arclite (711)}} has posed:''' "Well ain't this a cheerful place," Corona remarks with so much sarcasm in her voice it's hard to miss even with her thick Southern-esque accent. She's use to deserts and spansive wastelands, but at least the ones back home have some color to them! This is just grey, gray and more of the same. Then again, at least it's not all shades of brown. That would be even worse. She really doesn't want to stick around and find out what they would be leaving that much meat as an offering too, though. Let's just keep moving along, once we've made sure we've got the proper protection and everything. The cosmic cowgirl pulls out her steampunk analyzer device and after a bit of fiddling with the toggles and dials that work the settings gets a ping on the signs of civilization. "Well, that's good of direction as any Ah reckon." She shrugs and keeps moving. Because these kind of places it's usually best to not stand in one place for too long, less you be found by something you really do not want to be found by. At least getting over the trenches isn't hard, she just uses her Matter Manipulator to set down some plankway for the people that can't just jump or fly over them. Onward towards the habitat by the river! Speaking of river. "Smelt my rivets, even the goddamn WATER is GREY here." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Hm." is Staren's only comment on a ruined city. Ruins are just part of the world, after all -- He's visited what's left of lower Michigan occasionally with his uncle, and the peninsula is /covered/ with them. And there's the ruined parts of Toronto and Hamilton closer to his home, of course.     When the armored young man steps out and sees that the ring is part of an art installation, that gets a "Huh." He scans the idol for magic, although who knows if he can detect--     His screen whites out.     --right. Staren turns that off. Staren looks around, checking other sensors, and holds his hand to his helmet to indicate what he's doing. "I'm picking up electromagnetic emissions from that direction." He points, looks around again, and starts walking. Sometimes he flies for a bit to break up the monotony. Of course, if anyone actually brought a vehicle, he's happy to hitch a ride.     A... dome city? Behind his visor, Staren's eyes widen and he gasps slightly. /That's/ an interesting sight! He quickens his pace slightly as he approaches, waving. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is at least somewhat familiar with the place. If no one else is more so, she's likely in the lead...which means everyone has to go out her pace. BWAAHAHAHAH! Ahem. Inga moves over to the little shrine, recognizing the figure the shrine is made to. "Ah...well, of course I brought meat," she says, digging into her pouch. She pulls out a scrap of red meat, probably lamb, and lays it out before moving on. "This way..." she says, motioning to the others to follow. She stops where the cottage had been, looking around with a small frown of disappointment. "I suppose Grandmother has moved on..." she says quietly, shaking her head. Inga is sure she'll meet her again. Onward they go until the settlement is reached. Inga wrinkles her nose slightly, looking to Corona. "Be glad if you do not need to sample the local anima here," she comments. Staren spots the dome and starts walking fast. SIGH. That didn't last long. "Well...lets approach then I suppose.." she says, eyes scanning, perhaps on the look out for the telltale glowing eyes of a certain feline. 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     The bodyguard is always irritable, if not knee deep in a bad mood. Zero trails along behind Yuuki wearing the most flat expression his face can carry, to the point where his eyes aren't even really focused. He vaguely follows her positioning in his head. The rebreather he's wearing is a simple one that doesn't look much different from what you might expect in a hospital or a depressurized airplane cabin, although it's been beefed up substantially so that it can't be damaged too readily.     He's fairly confident the environment here isn't actually a problem for him, but he has an image to maintain. So does Yuuki, for that matter, although she's blown her cover so many times he doesn't really know why he bothers playing along anymore. The same is true of himself, if he's being honest about it, but not acting like a vampire is more a matter of personal preference for him than a die-hard secret.     "Mm?" He makes a vaguely questioning noise as Yuuki laments the dirtiness of the surroundings. Then, encourages everyone to find somebody to help. "What?"     Zero's eyes come back into focus. He looks at Yuuki properly. Something something clean. His expression becomes somewhat disbelieving. This world, as far as he can tell, is just kind of all-around a steaming pile. Incredulously, he asks, "You want to clean?" 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     "The temple, Zero. The little shrine?" Yuuki points at the little cat shrine with the now-cleaned off tarp and pile of candies she had left, with all the detritus pushed to the side/off/out of the way/onto the desolate ground. She picked up the wrappers, though, those go in the garbage. The ground is not a trash can!!!     Ok, so the entire planet may be a trash can, but... BESIDES THE POINT.     "I wanted to clean a shrine, it seemed in use. Come on, Zero, we should make sure to leave any place we come to better than when we left it, even if only a little bit."     Then she hurries off to follow the others heading towards the Settlement, following the river. It seemed like the THING TO DO. 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     Kevin had little knowledge of this place when he was invited to assist in the Land of Steel... and as he steps through the gate to this place, he can immediately see why. "...dear Aidios..." The priest's words are quiet, and mostly to himself. He has seen devastation, but he'll never be used to it. This is something that is never seen in Zemuria. Not to this scale.     It only takes a moment before he recovers himself. The priest quickly hefts the bag he brought with him onto his back, and sets himself into showing confidence for what they're here to do. He looks out to the city in the distance, then back to everyone else. He watches Inga's actions first, then speaks up. "...should we leave somethin'?" He's already starting to look through his pockets, a bit worried about not being prepared for such a thing. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa had not come to this dead 2world in a long time but there was a good deal of things to learn. So here she was on this dead world. She'd got her safety systems online, heck she had a rebrether on. Why? Her remaining bits of flesh still needed air and this stuff was taited, she didn't trust all her onboard systems against something almost magicxal. She was wary on this place as she looks at the hovercrafts coming down near them. She sees them movingout in perfect formation. She also has spotted Inga whom she homes iun as she looks over to IUnga nodding, understanging her powers needit. "Grandmother Inga? You have been this way before?" She keeps with her viking friend for a moment and nods. "Given what hell the grain is to me? I can't even guess what it does to you, Inga. Right, let's go." Kotone is being a bit more bold as she heds out to the front of the group to meet these people head on. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Kevin, nodding. "It is wise to leave something...certainly cannot hurt relations any. I believe I met the being that shrine is dedicate to last I was here. Archer of Green," she replies. Inga looks to Kotone then, walking still, leaning on her staff with one hand, holding her skirts up with the other. "Yes, with Riva and Finna," she answers, lips pursing. "Yes the grain is...I got sick, using it. But it can be used," she explains. "It is simply unpleasant to do so." 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     Kevin gives a quick nod to Inga, until he finally finds something in a pocket and withdraws it. It seems to have been a small bun of some kind. He went to that bakery on his way back from Arteria and intended to have it as a snack later. ...but he can live without it.     As such, the priest steps to the altar, next to Inga, and settles down on a knee. He offers a softly spoken wish for a prosperous future. He sets the pastry down next to the meat and other items that have been left behind.     The priest spends the next moment in silence before he pushes himself onto his feet and gives a quick nod to Inga. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' Cleaning off the makeshift shrine and putting things on it... doesn't really give Yuuki a /good/ feeling, but certainly alleviates the vague sense that something is watching her very intently. Whatever comes here must do it apparently at random, because there's no signs in the sand that others have been around, beyond a set of footprints that Inga would recognize as being Riva's panicked running back here the last time they came. Keeping an eye out, though, is wise. The quiet is oppressive and pervasive; not even wind blows through the skeletal structures. It's unlikely anything will sneak up on the group unnoticed. Still, there's a glimpse of gleaming eyes at the corner of Inga's sight, a familiar look to them for just a second... The caravan moves into the settlement. The group can follow it in on-foot without issue. It stops in an enormous garage, waiting in a neat row while the gate closes behind it. There's a hiss of air, and a siren that briefly fills the chamber as the enormous airlock is cycled. It doesn't cleanse /all/ the Grain from the air, for those paying attention, but it significantly lowers the density. There's an impression of things being somewhat run-down, somehow, like maybe this place is in need of a better caretaker. The far wall opens, revealing the interior -- and the grey monotony is broken with a riot of color. The interior of the dome is full of white walkways along light grey streets. Where most cities would have planters or little gardens along the roadside, projected images of dancing lights or waving streams of color take their place. The inside of the dome itself looks to be simulating a blue sky, though the shade is a little bit off for those people used to it. It's like someone took the suggestion of one and found a different but appealing shade to use, all filled with the artificial light of day. People walk the streets. Human-looking people, devoid of life support apparatuses or armor or radiation suits. They dress casually, with a mix of shirts and trousers, flowing robes, and durable jumpsuits, all in a huge variety of colors, from the subdued to the garish. Most of them have hair and eyes of similarly wild colors, and are speaking animatedly to one another, or ignoring each other to examine tablet computers, or just moving on their way and bobbing their head to a beat. A much, much smaller number of people here look almost boring by comparison. The two or three you can spot dress primarily in white, with boring, muted hair and eye colors on the normal human spectrum. Each of them wears a transparent breath mask, but it doesn't seem to stop them from talking to the more colorful fellows. They're given a little extra room, as if others are afraid of their fragility. The hover-convoy starts to move, one by one, travelling down the streets towards wherever it is they're going. A calm, electronic voice speaks over a loudspeaker as they start to move, chiming, "Welcome to River's Edge. Please enjoy your stay." 

:'''{{#var:711|Corona Arclite (711)}} has posed:''' Corona Arclite reflexively cringes at the alarms, those are hard on the ears! Well hard on her ears. Sometimes having highly tuned sensative hearing is a pain in a tail. Fortunately it doesn't last long. Her device beeps a signal at the 'magic radiation' mostly purging from the air, but that is quickly forgotten by the walls opening to a much more colorful sight to see. "Now that's a bit more like it!" Well at least with the low radiation signal she can take the breathing device off. Bleh. Her nose always feels funny after using these things. Speaking of breathers, that gets a brief look of curiosity from her. "Wonder why some folks are still wearin' 'em even in here." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga notes that glimpse of glowing eyes, but of course Archer of Green has spoken to them now over the radio. Her advice is taken, and Inga will remember it. There is much in the world, most in fact, they still do not know. Some of the politics were explained to her, Riva and Finna by Baba Yaga last they were here, but of course not all the complexities could be covered. So, Inga steps inside the settlement and looks around, taking in everything. She notes the different looks of people, wondering what the different clothes and what not signified. She thinks those brightly dressed are likely the wealthy, while those dressed plainly and without so much color are likely the slaves or servants. Still, better to find out than to assume. She looks around when she hears the voice welcome them, blinking, looking around for the source of the voice. "Thank you...?" Inga looks to the others. "Well, lets see what we can learn. Be careful," she says, then begins to head further inside, eyes roaming. More than just her eyes, her Sight. She focuses in on one of the pale people wearing the mask, wondering what she might be able to gleen from her wyrd-sight. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Uhh, hello?" Staren approaches the caravan inside the massive airlock, and then the hiss of cycling and the siren drowns out further attempts to communicate.     He stares in interest at the city. It's certainly... a contrast to the outside. Maybe it's safe to breathe here, but he's hesitant to open his helmet just yet all the same. The lack of plants is kinda weird too -- the garish colors, he chalks up to local culture. And while his world doesn't have such hair and eye colors, he's seen others that did, so it's not weird... until he sees the 'normal' ones. Huh?     "Hey, uh," Staren starts towards the convoy again, but it's off. How rude.     Well then. Time to do things the Staren way.     Staren walks up to the closest person. "Hi there! Excuse me, we're from another dimension, can you tell me about this place? I mean, mostly this city in particular, although my information on the world as a whole is probably pretty incomplete..." 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     "No. It's not that strange."     Zero reiterates an exchange he just had with Yuuki over the radio. His gaze sharpens a bit as pinpricks start to appear on his radar, alerting him to their proximity to a number of someones. They're abnormal enough, but fuzzy on his radar for the most part. Not vampiric, but certainly not ordinary either. A few of the beings out there don't ping on his radar at all, so they must be relatively normal humans. It seems like a miserable environment to try to survive in.     The air. The surroundings. The lunatics.     Don't you think he forgot that weird place where nobody thought to just knock on the door.     They end up following a caravan in and cycling through an airlock setup, presumably which cleans up the air. Even with the mask on, Zero can tell that it gets less nasty around them as they cycle through. The interior opens, and visual contact is made with the many different pings on his radar. There are a lot more pings, all told, than there aren't any.     Some might be predators. Mostly, they just look like regular people.     The hunter tenses visibly, unable to ascertain the difference in the circumstances. More importantly, some of those people out there are wearing breathe masks like some members of their group. Why? Wouldn't the locals be used to the way this world is?     "I'll take the normal people." He says to Yuuki, wandering off immediately towards one of the people who doesn't look like a potential shounen protagonist. Surprisingly, he doesn't have a particularly odd approach, all told, but it is blunt.     "Are you locals?" He asks, then gestures at his own rebreather and adds in explanation, "I was under the impression locals don't need this kind of equipment." Well, more like he didn't pay enough attention... 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     There's a flinch under the alarms and once he knows it's safe, he slowly pulls the respirator off. He looks at it with a somewhat disturbed look, then turns to look back at the air lock. Through the walk to the settlement, Kevin had made the decision to not try to 'poke' at his surroundings with his spiritual senses. The conversations he's heard were enough to tell him to not do such a thing.     After the wall has opened and they have been let into the settlement proper, Kevin begins to study individuals visually, watching them move to and from place to place, and studying their attire and mannerisms. He does notice the masks on some and mumbles idly to Corona's question. "...somethin' else seems off wit' 'em." With a heft of his bag- probably medical or other supplies should they be needed. He was, afterall, a part of the Union medical staff, and he promptly follows after Zero.     There's a wave from behind the hunter as the priest joins up. "'ello!" Kevin seems awfully cheerful, as he greets the same person Zero's approached. "If there's a need fer anythin' t' help, we can see 'bout tryin' t' offer it, as well." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa looks through her own pockets for a moment, should she add to the tribute? But it's hard to figure out, thanbkfully Inga is here and she's been here before she keeps with the wise woman. She's also acting as protection, seemingly forgetting Inga is far more durable than even Kotone's combat spec body is. She looks over the settlment for a moment as they move into the airlock. Kotone will check for public wireless if there is any just to see if she can get any information about this place. "Well this is interesting." She looks at the humans walking about without enviormental protection that gets an eyebrow rise and soon they get greeted. "Thank you." She looks over to Corona. "Can you fault them I don't think the airlock was able to get rid of all the grain, it's likely not as thick in here however." She pauses at Staren to just /stare/ at him with her mouth hanging open under her breath mask. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki was going to tell Zero to go talk to the colorful people! They looked interesting! And maybe he'd join them in an interesting conversation about having red eyes and white anime hair and the colorful joviality and such would rub off on him and...     The airlock cycles loudly while Yuuki is deep in the tank, daydreaming about how to make Zero happy in all the worst, most meddling sisterly ways she can think of.     But, Zero picks the BORING people, so... Well, ok. Yuuki will follow Staren! Yeah!     Hard Science Lad and Hyper Sparkle Shojo Girl, this team-up could not possibly go wrong.     "Yes hello! We came from the gate, as people interested in helping and such! I'm Yuuki, it's nice to meet you!" She bows. Then she remembers that shaking hands is also appropriate, so she sticks her hand out for a good shaking.     With the person her sniffer goes THIS IS NOT GOOD NOPE NAH over. Thankfully, she's too polite to sneer. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' Inga's Sight actually finds threads to follow in here, wonder of wonders. As far as she can tell, though, the person she's looking at, and everything about them, is and has been... normal. There's impressions of a life like any other, if one eked out on a desolate and dead world, and of all the things life brings. There's always a haze of violence, though, as if it's just over the horizon of everything they do. She doesn't get a response from the AI, either. How sad. Staren walks right up to one of the colorful people, a (fire engine) red-haired man with his eyes firmly focused on a small computer of some sort. He looks up, clearly startled, and looks between him and Yuuki as if they had two heads. He glances down, and then up again, and a look of recognition crosses his face. "Oh! You must be the guys the military is pulling in to help with the A-RAYS! Awesome!" He takes Yuuki's hand and shakes it enthusiastically, grinning. "I think I speak for everyone," he really doesn't, "when I say we're /really/ glad you're helping out." "River's Edge is pretty small as far as cities go. This is just a waystation for Eye of the Stars, up the coast, though; I mean, we're not really that interesting," he says, a touch apologetically. "But like, if you want to know stuff, you should go there. Doesn't the military have briefings and stuff you can go to?" The man eyes the pair a bit oddly. Not /as/ oddly, but a bit. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sighs quietly as Staren and Yuki go forward and badger a random person. She supposes that's one way to go about things if you're short on patience and subtlety...Ah well. Staren is asking for information, nothing much wrong with that. They are obviously outsiders. Inga's sight doesn't uncover anything particularly surprising. She doesn't see what the difference is between those plainly dressed and those who are not. Still...it tells her more about this world. The violence that seems to hang over everyone's lives. A very difficult existance. Inga looks sidelong toward Yuki and Staren. Military? Oh dear. She doesn't think they should let him assume they are something they are not--and what they are not, presumably, is choosing sides in a war they don't fully understand. "No, we are not military, simply travelers from afar," she interjects, thinking she needs to stop that right there. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The normal people -- person, in this case, since Zero can only really pin down one -- don't startle quite as much when he asks a pretty simple question. The brown-haired woman looks a bit on the older side; she might have seen some shit to make this not quite as weird. She casts a glance towards Hard Science Lad and Sparkle Shojo Lass doing their thing over there, loudly and enthusiastically, and picks up on the same idea. "All my life," she says. Her voice is only barely changed by the mask. "The gentleman your friends are speaking with is a Liner; they've been artificially adapted to Grain, by the efforts of other human beings like myself." The woman smiles a little. "'Last Seeds,' they call us. Sad, isn't it? Like they think we're all made of spun glass..." She turns to Kevin, inclining her head. "Thank you, but I assure you, there's nothing you can do to help me in this particular matter. Unless you're especially mechanically inclined, that is; there's been some trouble with one of the intake pumps at the processing plant, and I was just on my way over to go inspect the premises." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren briefly considers whether to say 'Technically, the A-Rays allied with us, but I'm not so sure I want to fight on /either/ side here' when Inga nips that in the bud.     Staren shrugs. One subterfuge is now traded for another. "What's this about the military pulling in people to deal with the A-Rays? I mean..." He looks around. "Not exactly a lot of /local/ help, so who exactly are they calling?" 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     "I see. My mistake." Zero wasn't aware that any locals needed the rebreather units. Humans can't deal with the environment, so they made humans who could thrive within it. It makes sense, even if it is rather grim. He's a little surprised that the woman shares what seems to be a more personal thought on the subject, and it prompts the young man to look away into the distance. After a moment, he nods. "I suppose it is. But you could be made of steel and this world would still have a good chance of breaking you."     A grim thing to say, but Zero has seen enough of it to feel his opinion reasonably informed, even if his common sense here is lower than normal thanks to a lack of knowledge of this world. It's a wonder that he doesn't ask much stupider questions, much more often.     Having no mechanical skills of his own, Zero shuts up and defers to Kevin regarding this woman's noted issues. He's no good for a lot of things, and certainly not for fixing complex machinery. Comes with having been raised as a soldier, he supposes. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' Corona pulls off her mask and ponders near the entrance. She doesn't directly interact with anyone, but she starts to find that she's directly under the scrutiny of /everyone/. The flow of traffic starts to stop in her general vicinity; a few passer-bys are openly staring, and the more they do, the more obvious the emotions on everyone's faces become. Fear. "A-RAY!" someone calls in a clear and obvious panic. /That/ gets their attention. The people going about their business turn and look, frozen to the spot, as if nobody wants to make the first move to bolt. "A-RAY in the dome!!" Whispers turn to murmurs, murmurs into motion, and it looks like the slightest wrong move is going to turn this from an information-gathering mission to a riot. The tension is cut by a different, older voice cutting in: "Not while I still draw breath, people of River's Edge! Do /not/ panic! Do not relent in the face of adversity! And most of all --" There's a roar of an engine, of the old-school (for here) internal combustion variety. A streak of grey passes over the streets and leaps onto one of the hovertrucks in the convoy, ramping off the slanted package in the back. A motorcycle hangs in mid-air, wheels spinning, belching exhaust into the otherwise clean(ish) air. On its back is an old man clad in what looks like scrap iron, scrawny and bony and with a mad gleam in his eye. "STAAAAND FIIIIIIIIIIRM!!" The bike hits the ground and weaves past the crowd and the Elite visitors. It rushes Corona, the man's arm snaking out and snatching her off her feet with a startlingly strong grip. He doesn't stop, the bike rattling dangerously as he forces it to go right for the closing airlock, pulling her along with him. They just /barely/ clear it as it closes. If someone is standing nearby or has a kind of super-speed, they might be able to dive after them. The moment the door is shut, Corona will find herself planting in a sidecar. The dangerous rattling of the motorcycle reduced to merely worrying levels. The old man barks a (surprisingly youthful) laugh, and says, "I am sorry, my lady -- I could not stand idly by and see a fair maiden in distress!" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren hears that shout.     The tone is the same as someone shouting 'D-BEE!' in certain movies, and hearing it in real life is vaguely disturbing...     Staren turns to see what it's about -- oh, /dear/. Without thinking, he manifests energy wings and flies towards her, but Motorcycle Dude is faster. He tries to follow, only to be left staring at the closed airlock. 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     A quick glance is offered to Zero, before Kevin looks back to the woman. He quickly pats at his chest with a hand, letting a smile show itself at that point. "I'm not /th' best/ at technology, but I've got a strong arm t' offer, at least." He doesn't exactly look like it, but he's not skin and bones, at least.     "We've got a few mechanical things where I'm from, an' we gotta be able t' do what we can wit' it." There's a bit of a gesture- an idle wave of his right hand." He seems to be willing to keep up with this when there's the shout to draw his attention.     The priest suddenly twists around- inadvertantly mimicking similar reactions of those around him. He knows the term A-Ray. He knows that there's...     What.     He seems a little bewildered at the sight of the motorcycle. There seems to be a confused noise as Kevin doesn't seem to be able to find the words to say. He suddenly looks to the woman he had been speaking to to gauge her reaction, then back to the motorcycle... then back to her once more, to offer a stage whisper in her direction, "......does this sorta thing happen a lot?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga frowns worriedly as things start to turn. She feels the general atmosphere shift as people notice Corona. Oh...she's not human. That is a problem here. Inga swears under her breath. She should have placed a glamour on her! Too late now, but something to remember for next time, certainly. Now though, one of them has just been kidnapped. Inga, being not at all fast, doesn't even try to go after them. That she will leave to someone like Staren who for all she knows, can disappear and reappear elsewhere at will or something ridiculous like that. Or energy wings. That is equally ridiculous. "Who was that?" she inquires to whichever local is standing nearby, keeping her cool. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     YES SEE, THIS IS THE PROPER WAY. OFFER HELP, GET SMILING FACES AND NOT AN ASSBEATING. ALL GOES ACCORDING TO SHOJOPLAN.     Or... does it? Well, she gets an excited answer, as she dumbly looks on, in a sort of blank 'yay you are happy so I am happy' as she returns the shake. "I am here to help! And I am, I guess, part of a military?"     This is accompanied by no less than three people whose responses sum down to an emphatic and polite 'noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo'.     But then, before she's able to mess this any up worse, THE BIKER OF LA MANCHA scoops up one of their party and spirits them away. "Oh gheez! Just a second!" Yuuki announces before she hurries to the closing door. "Um..."     She looks around. "Could you open this again?" She asks FIRETRUCK RED, LINER ALLY AND STALWART COMPANION.     Zero is off talking to boring people and getting quests and doing his job, don't mind Yuuki, she is off on Adventure. 

:'''{{#var:711|Corona Arclite (711)}} has posed:''' You know she really should of thought of that, but Corona isn't really use to being the odd one out, as it were. Where she comes from humans and animal-folk like her both coexist equally after all. So the thought doesn't even really occur to her until people start shouting, "A ray?" She turns around a few times. "What? Where?" Not realizing it's -her- they're shouting about. The sound of a combustion engine is a lot more familiar to her, but she's scooped up before she can do more than turn around to look at the rather spetacular entrance stunt on the motorcycle before she's scooped up in and sped off. Despite how painfully terrible that bike's motor sounds. She ends up somewhat comically plopped in the sidecar, feet up on the front instead of inside and tail flopped off to the side, looking a little dizzy at how fast that all happened. "Well that ain't what Ah was expectin'..." 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     "Go ahead and help take care of it. I need to go make sure useless doesn't get into too much trouble." Zero asides to Kevin. He can feel you wandering away, Yuuki. You're the sharpest ping on his radar right now. Everybody else is all fuzzy and less predatory, although some of their companions have a sharper feel to them than the locals. He raises a hand to wave vaguely goodbye to the woman to whom he had been speaking, taking off after Yuuki.     He doesn't seem to be all that concerned by the kidnapping that just occurred in front of him. Mostly, it's because Zero doesn't know that person, and it's not Yuuki so it's not his immediate problem. More than that, there doesn't seem to be any active... hostility? It's hard to read some of the people around here. The whole thing just strikes him as... shenanigans. That's the word.     Just a bunch of shenanigans.     A few moments later Zero catches back up with Yuuki, appearing perhaps abruptly at her side. Or at least, abruptly relative to her probable attention towards him, anyway. He asks her, "Where are you going?"     It's just a little kidnapping. Nothing to worry about here. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa watches as the locals make assumptions about things, she has no idea who the union's allying with but gets this could be a bad thing for people to assume things on.. "I come from a small town myself. I know how that an go." She pauses for a moment as everyone, she sees as people get scared of Corona. She had honeslty stoppped thinking much about her friend being an humanoid fox. She sees her friend get out of trouble before she had to act and looks at Inga for a moment. "I'd like to know yes, who is that as well?" 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' Kotone's superpower of Literally Being Made Of Computers comes in handy. She finds a huge public wireless network, with base access unsecured and free to use. Getting onto it is easy, and gives her a pretty handy feature: an augmented reality overlay that lets her see descriptions, directions, ratings and similar information for various things inside the dome. It explains why so many people are looking at displays instead of each other, at least. One of the most notable things is that there's a faint red haze over the area they're in. Examining it closely and triggering a prompt brings up -- you guessed it -- a 'hazardous environmental warning,' since it turns out either A-RAYS are partly considered forces of nature... or the panic of one getting in isn't something the people in charge want spreading across the city. Inga and Kotone get a response pretty much immediately. The crowd has gone from fearful to starstruck and cheering. A young lady at the periphery sighs, hands over her heart. "Don Quixote de La Mancha! The last great knight in the world!" Yeah... that doesn't really narrow it down if Inga's never heard the story before. FIRETRUCK RED, LINER ALLY AND STALWART COMPANION... kind of shrugs. "Um, it's automated, and I don't have the tag to override the AI, so..." He trails off awkwardly, and maybe a little uselessly. The door sure seems firmly closed, though. "We're all fragile in a world full of super-men," the human woman says to Zero, once the excitement has gone away. She was fearful for a moment, but seems to have calmed down quickly. There's a sort of sense of acceptance around her when the possibility of an A-RAY is presented. Like she knew that there wasn't a thing she could do about it if there was one. The woman smiles broadly at Kevin. "Well, find your way to the plant if you'd like to put that arm to work. I'm sure we can always use it. I should go." She inclines her head to both of them, regardless of Zero's potential grump-status at Yuuki being her own perfectly normal self, and starts on her way. ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE AIRLOCK, the old man stops, dismounting from the bike. The exterior door has closed, leaving them sealed into a huge chamber lit by stark white lights. He walks around, and offers his hand to her, the picture of a gentleman. "Again, you have my sincerest apologies, my lady, but I did not wish to see you come to any harm. I did not think there were any A-RAYS willing to attempt peaceful entry into one of the domes, but it warms my heart to see all the same!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga raises a brow, completely confused. A knight? The last great knight? Never heard of him. Inga looks to Kotone, raises a brow. Perhaps she'll know what they're talking about. Inga looks over toward Kevin then, who's offered to help with something requiring brute strength. "I suggest you don't go alone," she says. Just in case. This is still a dangerous place. At least Corona appears to be alright, rescued as it were by this Knight. If his bike was run-down Inga wouldn't know it! 

:'''{{#var:711|Corona Arclite (711)}} has posed:''' Most girls would probably be flustered and fawning all over the flattery. Corona's a little rough around the edges for that, but after a bit of wiggling around to get into a proper position she can actually get out of the sidecar she does accept the hand offered to help her up. "Reckon Ah ain't no Aw-Ray or whatever." Once she's on her feet she dusts herself off out of habit, then glances at the airlock doors. Then turns back to her elderly but spry resucer, tail giving an anxious flick behind her as she rubs the back of her head with the other hand. "Reckon Ah didn't consider the fact that Ah ain't exactly human, though. He he he he. Folks come in all kinda forms were we come from." She's already got a grip on one of his hands, so she just goes ahead and gives it a firm shake before lettin' go. "But thanks fer the save all the same pardner." 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     There's a pleasant smile to the older woman, but it's clear that Kevin's attention is being pulled away. There's another gesture until he waves back to the noise a bit. "...I 'pologize fer th' sudden change, but I should take care o' other things 'ere."     The priest laughs, though, with a pleasant grin. "...but I don't see any reason why I shouldn't come back if my travels lead me in this direction again. I hope you'll be able t' accept my help then!" There's a bow of his head. "Good luck wit' yer work!"     With that said, the priest jogs back towards the others, eventually falling to a stop near Inga. "There are enough things t' leave me a li'l bewildered- though I need t' ask, not go alone t' help?" When he looks to her, there's a far sharper and more serious expression. "Are there issues- motorcycle ridin' knights aside- that we won't see right out in th' open that we need t' be concerned over?"     Beyond things like... Grain and whatnot. He still hasn't brought himself to attempt use his own senses to examine such things. Forcing his senses to be so 'closed off' makes him feel like he's running around working while spiritually blind, in a way. It's not pleasant. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren relaxes and lands when Corona clarifies over radio that she's safe. The wings dismiss, and after a moment, he turns and walks back over to Firetruck. Uhhhh, where were they? Oh, right. "So, you were saying about the military pulling in help to fight the A-Rays? What kind of help, from where...? I mean... just curious." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is indeed made of computers, she's into the network she notices it's unsecured. She's in and soon has the AR systems online. She looks over the data feeds she's getting a better idea aout the people. She notices the red haze and then gets what it is, it's a warning after all but then comes the stranger. "Wait, did you say Don Quixote de La Mancha?!" She stares in shocvk she knows the name. She thinks fast for a moment before she speaks up. "I have ... heard a few tales of you sir knight." This could be the best or the worst thing, only time will tell here. She's smiling a little bit at them. "I am Kotone Yamakawa, and my friend would be right. Keeping to a group would be best, given these lands. The grain alone is a reason to keep with a group." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Kevin, shaking her head. "I do not think you are in express danger...but this is a new place, and the people here are obviously put on edge quickly," she comments, glancing toward the door. "I simply do not think anyone else should become too seperated from the group. Suppose there is the radio..." she shrugs her shoulders, sighing. "I suppose I am just cautious. Maybe overly so," she admits sheepishly, looking then to Kotone. Blink. "A story that comes after my time I take it..." just like most things, really. "Yes, I don't recommend sampling the Grain unless you have to...then, I do not know how your magic works Mr. Graham. Last I needed to use mine...well, it makes you feel ill. I think over time it must really wear on someone." 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     "Oh! ... Oh." Yuuki seems to dim in her exuberance, as she is told 'no' by FIRETRUCK RED, TRUSTED VIZIER AND PERSON OF SOME IMPORT. He has FAILED her in her time of need, because he is basically a random Liner and doesn't know jack all. Well. WELL YUUKI CAN FIX THA-oh wait Corona is totally fine, ho-hum."     Useless Yuuki drifts her fingers against the closed airlock wall, turning to cross her arms and look up at Zero. "Nothing. I thought someone needed help, but I got some information - there's a much larger settlement, deeper in, with a military. Maybe they'll know more. Did you find out a way we could help? I hope there's something, becuase..." She looks at Zero, and then pauses. "Well, I'll tell you later." 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     "Samplin' it?" The priest quickly looks back to Inga. "What? Like... taste it? Eat it? Breathe it?" This seems to have completely confused Kevin before he looks up at the fake sky. It's all very unpleasant. He quickly digs into his pocket and retrieves a small, metallic device that appears to be just slightly smaller than a pocket watch. Only now does he realize that maybe this kind of material is even screwing with his orbment.     He passes it from one hand to another. "Well..." He says idly to Inga. "Better we find out how it reacts t' my skills /now/ than if we were in some serious danger 'ere." There's a raised eyebrow. "...'specially if I'm ever needed t' use either my orbal or sacred arts." He would be 'dead in the water,' as they say it if something happened and he needed to make use of any of his technology or spiritual skills.     First, the orbment. The small device is activated- it only acts internally, drawing in elemental force from the stones set in it. He has no intention to do much more than perhaps a minor, water-based art of healing on himself. Kevin is, more or less, convinced from what he's heard of the Grain and the world's effects that a magitech device like his orbment would go mostly uneffected. If successful, he's cast the slightly chilly restorative magic on himself, despite having no need of healing. 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     "Nothing that I would be useful for. The people who wear breathe masks here are the same as off-worlders. They had to engineer people with the ability to process the atmosphere independently, but the locals before that don't have that trait." Zero gestures towards his own rebreather, a little vaguely. "The only thing she mentioned having trouble with is a mechanical problem at a processing plant. I'm no good with machines that aren't firearms, so I have no help to give."     A glance is cast towards Kevin. He says, "That guy mentioned being a little handy."     Having said all that, Zero looks down towards Yuuki with a very flat expression. "You could call in some of your lackeys." He suggests, not at all seriously. Aido doesn't seem like the sort who would be useful for that, though. Maybe if they needed medicine of some kind. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' FIRETRUCK RED, TRAITOROUS VIZIER AND SECRET MASTER OF THIS LAND shrugs kind of helplessly at Yuuki and Staren. "Sorry." DON QUIXOTE, ACTUAL HERO AND DEFINITELY NOT A CRAZY OLD MAN, smiles in a distinctly friendly fashion. He sweeps his cap off his head -- it looks kind of vaguely peaked and otherwise shapeless, and has a wire feather in it -- and bows in a very courtly kind of fashion. "It is the duty of a true knight to aid those in need. If you are not an A-RAY, though, then..." He looks thoughtful. "...hmmmmmmmm..." On the other side of the wall, someone is pushing through the crowd. He stumbles out, a young man with pitch black hair and stark white eyes. Judging by the lack of a breather, he's probably one of the Liners. "Sorry, excuse me, sorry, I need to -- I need to get through --" He manages to get past the people (who are finally starting to disperse) and straightens out his sleeve, brushing off his shoulder and stopping to catch his breath. He's in some kind of steel grey uniform, the same color as the outside, and has a patch on the shoulder that reads 'LODESTONE', something that seems to get people to actually move when they notice. He heads up to the airlock, fishing out a pair of glasses and putting them on. He's fidgeting, muttering, "C'mon, c'mon," and making tapping gestures at mid-air. He seems to be diligently ignoring the group of strangers still in the general vicinity. Kevin doesn't have any problem using the orbment. Internal forces of magic don't seem affected by the Grain, at least not in here. Outside it might be another story completely; the density is completely different, so he'll have to do more experiments. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga blinks, peering over as Kevin pulls out a small object. "This is how you use your magic?" she asks. "Perhaps you will not suffer as Riva and I did--our anima, it comes from the earth...but the earth here is dead," she explains. "I could perhaps reach through my connection to Gaia however...it is very far," she adds with a small sigh, watching Kevin now to see if anything happens. Nothing explodes, and he doesn't lose his lunch, so Inga is guessing he's just fine. "Alright then?" she asks him. Her eyes are drawn to the man who appears, noticing how the people move aside for him. Someone of importance then. She raises a brow, observing, but she isn't about to interrupt what he's doing. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa looks to Kevin and then back to Kinga for the moment. She nods a little bit. "Yes I'll explain it later, but yes it's a tale of one last Knight. To sum it up shortly." Part of her got why Don did what he did in the books and if that man is anything like him? She doesn't have the heart to stomp all over him. She really diodn't she could get why one would want to flee the mundane after all. "I think trips here should be kept short to limit the effect of grain. I don't use magic but it's causing me issues and I can only guess at what it's like for you. "She means tying to draw on it for magic, I think..." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren shrugs back. "Well, it was nice meeting you..." He turns to walk away, to talk with the others, but then notices someone pushing through the crowd. He starts watching the man, then realizes he finally has time to respond to Dawn about that wireless network alert, and takes a look in AR to see if what the guy's working on happens to be publicly visible. 

:'''{{#var:711|Corona Arclite (711)}} has posed:''' Corona Arclite scratchs the side of her head for a moment. "We're from very, very out of town," she starts out, trying to piece together a decent enough explaination in her head. Her accent actually gets a little less drawly when she's considering what she's saying more precisely, but that might just be an effort to, well, be more understandable in general. "Like, entirely another world out of town." Then remember what just happened inside she quickly holds up her gloved hands before the kind ol' fellow panics thinking he rescued some alien marauder or something. "We're not here to cause trouble or invade or anythin'! We came to see what this world was like and iffen there was stuff y'all need help with. Y'know," she gives a nod back towards the outside, "seein' what sorta shape it's in out there." And then she grabs her hat and gives it a polite tip towards the knight. "Name's Corona, by the by. Corona Arclite." 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     There's a faint shiver from the cold aura of the spell. He lets out a bit of a breath, then looks at the device. "Ah, partly." He points to it. "This is called an orbment. It's mostly self-functional... but it can be kind of finicky. It's an older model." He sounds like he's had to defend his choice of using an older model before.     Kevin then tilts his head. "This works when I can't use my own arts. So at least I know it's functional." He then returns the metal device to the inside pocket of his jacket. "What I'm a bit more worried 'bout is somethin' else..."     A glance is cast towards Kotone and he offers a somewhat worried smile. "...prol'ly fer th' best I learn this /here/ than to hit th' wall while in actual trouble." He shakes his head. "I'm actually keepin' my own spiritual senses 'dampened' - it's a lot o' work t' do this, 'cuz I'm worried o' th' effect th' Grain would have on 'em."     That sounds like a good enough cue, if anything. A hand reaches to the medallion hanging from his belt as he closes his eyes. This time, he opens his senses to the world around him. In normal cases, he'd be able to use a sense of the element of Space to get a 'reading' of the number of people around him. It's a simple task, normally, but taking the moment to push his senses to reach further is something that can require more effort... and perhaps be a good way to test this environment. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods at the explaination. "Curious," she responds. "Some things do hold power, it is true." As for the dampening, she knows how that is. It is something she must do with her Sight, less she lose control of it--which sometimes, she does. Sometimes for days at a time. "Yes...I can understand. Best to see what will happen while not in a dire situation," she agrees, impressed with his forsight and practicality. Now, to see what happens. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa thinks for a moment as Kevin speaks of what seems to be somer sort of magitech of some sort. "Ah I see, forgive me, my world doesn't have a lick of magic at all. Also yes it is, it's good it wasn't while you were in danger. Humm I kinda get it like keeping a good barrier, err firewall up when dealing with an unknown network." She watches Kevin as he makes his next test and moves to see what happens. She keeps near Inga as she's watching the test as well. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki Kuran has a lot of talents. However, few of them are actally practical. She can't fix things (that aren't hey go over there and be really aggressively positive and/or NORMAL GIRL things), and none of her 'goons' are...     Well they're maids and stuff. In fact none of her friends are 'handy', and Aido loves collecting broken things. Creepily.     "No, I don't think any of them are really useful. Most of them are super smart, but... Well, the staff don't really do that, and my tutors are mostly catching me up. You'd think I'd just /become/ all smart and genius, but I'm /way/ behind." She laments. She has the first-est world problems.     As the MYSTERY PATCH MAN comes over from LODESTONE, Yuuki wanders over to FIRETRUCK RED again, and, conspiritorially. "What's LODESTONE? What's he doing?" 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     Kevin's quiet. Almost unnervingly so, once he made his statement for what he was going to do.... But then it hits. Dizziness and nausea are the first things that slam headlong into the priest. He suddenly shuts down everything with his attempt to scan his surroundings, and suddenly drops to a knee.     First testing the orbment was a good idea, simply because he quickly reaches for it in his pocket. He only grasps the device, clinging to it tightly, and drawing on the element of water through it, so that he can use its effects to clear out any of the negative effects from even coming in contact to this world's elemental forces.     But he still feels sick afterwards, and coughs a bit otherwise. "Good goddess.... what on earth..." The words are in raspy whispers, caught between gasps of breath.     ....and it's even weaker in here?     There's a moment of panic as he realizes that nothing is right to his spiritual senses and he quickly changes focus to shut everything out again, bringing a hand to his head.     "....okay." He finally says once he catches his breath, and placing a hand to the side of his head, "....definitely not tryin' that again." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "That is quite a ways," the old knight says. "And I cannot in good conscience turn down an offer of assistance from one with so pure a heart as you! Now," he says, looking around the sealed airlock chamber, "where is my squire..." Looking through the AR filter to see what he's doing gets a view of an instrument display with a line leading to the airlock. The actual control panels on it is blurred out; nobody else has sufficient access permissions to be able to see /how/ he's doing things, but it looks like he's interacting with the system AI and the mechanisms enough to override the lockdown. FIRETRUCK RED, GUY WHO IS IN ON IT, speaks at the exact same volume and in the same tone. "They're like the special forces! You know, the Liner Operations Division! All the Ether Liners work for them! Oh man, do you think he's one of /them/? I bet he's got his Knight Arm hidden on him somewhere, just /waiting/ for a fight...!" Beat. "...um..." FIRETRUCK RED, WHO HAS THIS UNDER CONTROL, looks at his tablet. "...opening the door...?" Which it does. The airlock's inner seal breaks, the enormous doors sliding apart enough to admit maybe two people side by side. The Liner with the patch hurries over. "Damnit, Rider, what the hell did you take off for?! We've got a briefing to --" "SANCHO!" booms Don Quixote -- or, as this other guy seems to identify him, Rider of Steel. "My faithful squire! I have need of you this day!" He strides over, putting a weathered hand on the young Liner's shoulder. 'Sancho' blinks owlishly. "This young maiden wishes to help us in our quest! Isn't that wonderful?" The glasses-wearing Liner looks at Corona, and then back at the old man. "She's an A-RAY," he says in a disbelieving tone. "She is /not/ an A-RAY," Rider says brightly. "They're from another world! Isn't that grand? We must make ready to sally forth, righting wrongs wherever the wind may take us!" His 'squire' just kind of stares at him. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is sympathetic. She frowns worriedly when he falls to a knee, but she waits and he seems to get his bearings again. By that point, she holds a bottle out toward him. "Ginger beer. Good for the stomach," she informs him. She knows quite well his stomach will need a little settling. "I did warn you," she smiles. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "It is true. We are from another world."     Staren has approached the Squire. "I will, of course, back this fantastic claim up, if you'll name some reasonable proof." Staren glances at Corona, then back to the squire. "How fast can you do DNA tests? Also, I was kind of wondering, if humans are so weak here, why I don't see any cybernetic enhancement. Ohhh, does it interfere with magic and noone wants to give that up? That's understandable..." Staren nods to himself. 

:'''{{#var:711|Corona Arclite (711)}} has posed:''' Corona Arclite doesn't seem to be all that bothered by the fellow's ... exhuberence. She's seen a lot of eager to do-well space cowboys act much the same way. Just usually they're a lot younger. She takes it in stride all the same way. 'Sauncho' peering at her and mistaking her for an A-Ray as others did just reminds her to put her hat back on, this time tucking her ears inside instead of through the holes in the brim. Not that it really does much well considering she's still got a visible tail and everything. "Rawght. From another world, here t' try and help.... though it's pro'ly best Ah don't go back in until Ah can do somethin' t' cover up my.. well..." As luck would have it though Staren is not far behind Sauncho. "Ah, good timin' Staren! Ya can explain what we're doin' here'bouts, locals don't seem to like my charmin' good looks much." The foxgirl snickers at her own dumb joke, having well gotten over the point of this being embarassing by now. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     "Oh wow! Special forces? An /elite/! Thanks a lot, Red!" Yuuki grins, nicknaming this guy with HALF OF HIS TRUE NAME     And then THE MAN OF LA MANCHA APPEARS, TRIUMPHANTLY DECLARING TRIUMPH.     "Well, that's what we said at first, too! That we were here to help! And we were from far away! And then we asked if you had problems and it sounds like A-Rays!"     She elbows Zero. "Right?"     COME ON ZERO, HELP OUT.     "Also, that's a Servant? Huh! We met... What was it, Rider of Blue? And... Someone of Steel? At that big tower?" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa looks over at Kevin as he attemps his thing and that's when she gets very concerned as she now goes to help him if he needs it. She looks pretty conerned here, she also moves to check the network for get a smuch local news, or other information that might be of use to everyone later. She's also running searchies on Don to see if she cna ping anything about the last knight of Europe! "Father is there anything I can do to help?" 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     "We are from very far away. I'm here to keep useless here from getting herself butchered from offering help to the wrong people. She's here to throw herself on every problem conceivable because she wants to be a superhero." Zero chimes in, in response to Yuuki elbowing him. He's been quiet for a while, and isn't liable to stop being quiet. Most of this is none of his business, and too many of these people show up fuzzy on his radar. He wonders what an A-Ray feels like at a distance. Would it be something like the individual who was mis-identified as one?     Zero asides to Staren, "People aren't disposed towards going under the knife casually."     As for their prior encounter with weird people here, Zero adds, "We encountered an individual who interacted strangely with our technology and behaved very oddly. Didn't think to knock on a door to get in before trying to force it open some other way." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' 'Sancho' stares at each member of the group in turn. AR-enabled people might spot him getting cursory three-dimensional snapshots of them, which is pretty reasonable since they've never been here. He adjusts his glasses minutely, regarding Staren in particular while Rider looks properly enthused. One might assume it is his default expression. "Show me some offworld technology, or something plainly impossible here," he says, finally. "And no, I'm not going to make a list, you'll just have to figure it out." The Squire's expression twitches towards a frown. "But don't do it right now. Right now, I'd like you all to go back the way you came, and --" He falters for a second, but recovers, "-- and I need to talk to command, because this is way over my paygrade." Rider slaps him on the back. "Nonsense! This is good experience for a knight in training of your caliber!" He looks to the others, peering at Zero quizzically. "Interacted strangely...?" The Liner frowns. "That thing Assassin's been after... alright, so you /are/ the off-worlders that got reported before. That's fine. Okay. That doesn't change the fact that I need to make a report and you need to take her," he points at Corona, "out of here, before there's a panic. I've got public safety to think about." His expression turns pleading. "/Please/ don't make a scene. Someone will find some way for you to help if you really want to, just, don't make this a bigger thing than it already is." 

:'''{{#var:887|Kevin Graham (887)}} has posed:'''     The priest simply looks up to Kotone, and gives her a weak nod. "I think I'll manage. I know what not t' do here, at this point."     With a deep breath, Kevin pushes himself to stand up again. "...glad it was in here, an' not out there." There's a gesture in the direction of the airlock.     "I may need t' take up Inga's suggestion when we get back t' th' station afterwards. I'll probably want someone t' do another examination o' me, though I feel a bit better now." It's clear that he's worried about something that he experienced. But really, there is no way to identify things about it yet.     "Thank you fer th' offer, though." He does stop, then thinks to also ask Kotone- "...is there anythin' else ya know 'bout it? 'bout this Grain, that is?" 

:'''{{#var:711|Corona Arclite (711)}} has posed:''' Corona Arclite already has her Manipulator off her belt and partway flipping through its inventory when Sancho says 'not now'. She huffs softly, actually looking slightly disappointed in not getting to show anything off as she puts the device back on her toolbelt. While she probably doesn't have much technology they wouldn't she's probably got a lot of it that does the same thing in completely different and possibly relatively absurd ways. "Yeah, Ah get it. Not good fer me to be walkin' 'round these parts without a coverup. Sloppy lack of forsight on m'part, really." She still doesn't seem all too put off about this, even as she turns and starts to amble back towards the portal. "Ah'll just go mosey off inta the sunset, no mussin', no fussin'. See ya folks 'round." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren looks at Sancho (too late, it's his name now!) with a blank stare for about one second after his demands are made, and then reaches into his bag and pulls out a tablet and something that looks like a flipphone except with a see-through upper section/screen. He states flatly: "I doubt this stuff's impossible, but the small one was made by me and the tablet's from another world that was even more advanced in computer development than mine. If nothing else, hardware and software completely unrelated to your own should be interesting enough to justify further inquiry."     And then Sancho mentions having heard of offworlders before. "Wait, so you knew...?" Staren tilts his head, then straightens up and states flatly again: "Just so there's no surprises later: An A-Ray /has/ allied with us. I don't think any of us are willing to attack humans or Liners just on his say-so, but just so that it doesn't look like we were trying to hide it from you..." Staren shrugs. "Personally, it sounds to me like humans, Liners, and A-Rays /all/ need help so there can be peace between you, though I sure don't know how to accomplish that." He smiles wryly. "I imagine saying /that/ should prove I'm pretty out of this world, but that's a discussion for another time then. Good luck, man."     Staren will follow the others out. For the few seconds or minute or so it takes them to get together and leave, Dawn crawls the wireless network for useful public info and downloads it for him. Could be some useful stuff to know there! 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     "Alright! I guess instead of helping you out we can... I guess we can go." Yuuki admits, looking HYPER DEPRESSED NOW. Her huge dinnerplate eyes look like sad puppydog peepers pleadingly staring at Sancho. She wants to help so bad, and you're leaving her out in the rain, what a jerk.     The... dust... rain. The desolate silence of horrible magic particles. The...     Ok this metaphor is super lost, and the LAST thing Yuuki wants to do is to cause a scene. So she sadmoseys towards the gate. "We'll probably be back, so, um... Yeah do talking and stuff, that'd be good."     Zero is ostensibly in her wake. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa looks to Sancho for a moment as she tilts her head over at them. She gets a few snap shots of herself. She thinks for a moment. "Fair enough give us time I think. It might be best not to do such right now in terms of tech. I can manage something next time but I'd have to get it, I left it on my ship." She looks over to the Liner for a moment nodding slightly to them. "Don't worry I don't leave my friends behind, and don't worry. It wasn't our intent to set things on fire. We'll slip out with Corona." 

}}

3486/Mother, Maiden, Crone

2015-12-07T08:51:45Z

Binary:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/12/06
|Location=Land of Steel
|Synopsis=Visitors to the Land of Steel meet a couple of its stranger denizens. One is much more frightening than the other.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=495, 513, 525, 687
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The Land of Steel is an inhospitable place at the best of times. The dull grey sky is uniform and uninteresting; the ground, cracked, dry and dead, is covered in part by sands of the same color, and broken by human edifice stretched out across the world. There are no plants to be seen, and no birds or beasts cry to fill the skies. It is a place of silence. When the grim reality of it sets in, it is perhaps most important to remember that it is /an/ Earth, but it is not /your/ Earth. But the most chilling thought about it is that perhaps, one day, it /could/ be. Agartha leads to all places, and to all times... The warp gate opens up in the middle of a city. The gate itself stands in what once might have been a park, a large standing ring in the middle of a cluster of five stone rings aligned for each to be smaller than the other. It's some kind of sculpture that has a use. Nearby, what looks like a wooden gazebo stands, but the old, worn-out plastic surface betrays its true nature. Dry stream-beds are scattered around, bridged by the remains of picturesque walkways. Skyscrapers stretch in every direction, towerig monoliths to a seemingly deceased civilization. It's just past sunset, and nothing else in the city is lit up -- except, that is, for a tiny flickering firelight swinging lazily near the far edge of the barren park. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga had been in a trance-state when Riva called. Who could know how long she'd been that way. Hours, maybe a dozen of them. Maybe days. She didn't /think/ days...but she couldn't be sure. Wasn't it Woden's day? Or was it wash day? Either way, she'd run out of roving and her spindle was full with freshly spun yarn. Time to go do something. She'd managed to clean up and put on fresh clothing before Riva showed up, hauled her over her shoulder and promptly taken off. Small blessings? Now, she thinks maybe she should have stayed home. The sense of death--no, not even death, death sounds too active. Decay. The sense of decay is like a slap to the face--or the soul. It is jarring. That bright energy she's accustomed to feeling feels so far away, and what /is/ here feels...rotten somehow. "What is this...?" she asks, turning toward Riva as she tries to straighten her dress and cloak. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' ADVENTURE TIME! Riva does this occasionally. Ususallly, it results in ice cream, clothes shopping, or random cool things. This time, maybe not so much. The arrival in the Land of Steel causes Riva to kind of stop and look around with a frown, clearly unsettled. She sets Inga down so she can settle herself and she folds her arms, looking over the blasted landscape and decrepit archetecture. "This looks like a very bad place." Riva replies. "... But whatever happened here, there's an open Warpgate and that means what happened here can happen elsewhere. We should look around and see if we can find some hints on what's up." She smiles, probably trying to put on a brave face for the much more serious and reserved Inga. "Don't worry about it! I'll watch your back. You're great at finding things out, right? Just head in whatever direction seems right. IT's not like we have any particular plan here..." And then she squints at the firelight and points. "Inga, over there, do you see that fire?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     When Riva steps through the warp gate there is in fact a second ripple! But it's easy to miss, for the fox is colored similar to the flux of the warp gate and takes not another step on her padded feet more than Riva. Their steps are in sync, allowing her to slip around behind the wreckage of a bench and peek around, watching the two girls!     At first the fox's tail was wagging, but after getting a few whiffs of THIS area.... not so much. Her initial playfulness and desire to prank the two has quickly dwindled away. This place.     This palce is AWFUL.     And it gives her the shivers. "Grbrbrrwarb... these two... think there's /adventure/ here?" She hisses under her breath, no longer so sure... 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga leans on her staff, looking around what she now recognizes as a park. Or, what used to be a park, anyway. She looks up at the skyscrapers, frowning deeply. "They loom like the broken skeletons of giants. It is incredibly eery," she says quietly. With a sigh, Inga reaches to her belt, begining to detach the leather bag that holds her runes. "I can read the runes perhaps. I am...not terribly inclined to open my Sight right now," she says. Of course, she might not have a choice. Sometimes the Sight opens her. Something else prickles her senses, so Inga turns to see a fox has followed them. She raises a brow. "Finna? Well, why not," she says, looking back to Riva. Riva mentions a fire. Inga squints, looking in the direction Riva pointed. "Very well, let's investigate. Do you think...people can still live in this place? It feels as though nothing is alive here." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva shudders in response to Inga, nodding. "Yeah, I know... exactly what you mean." That pulse of life, always so close to her... It seems very far away, now. However, Inga notices a tagalong. Riva starts, apparently not having even noticed the fox. "Finna?!" She says in surprise, blinking... And then she sees the fox. "Oh! Hi Finna! Come on over here!" She calls, stooping and holding out her hands. Should Finna approach, Riva will pick up Finna and lavish some attention on her. She's always liked it before! She does, however, nod and agree with Inga. "Life finds a way, doesn't it? I'll take the lead." Riva says, and steps forward, waving with a free hand. "Hey you guyyyyyyyyyyys!" Riva calls to the fire. "What's goin on in this thread?" Surely this won't go horribly at all. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The dread that comes with stepping onto a dead world is understandable. To those sensitive to the pulse of Gaia, the /lack/ is a silence that is almost deafening in its intensity. Beyond the brief breeze from the gate's opening and closing, there isn't even a breeze. The lack of a scent of decay, or of anything but dust, is unnerving to those who rely on more than sight. Shouldn't something this dead reek, even to the mundane? Riva calls out. The firelight in the distance... sways, and then moves. It seems to approach. It isn't a campfire, or anything of the sort; it looks like a little ball, swinging gently back and forth in the dark. It's low to the ground, coming across the bridges. Then... it winks out, gone entirely, as if it had never been. The darkness closes in again. A tense few moments pass. A little bit of light appears above the heads of the would-be adventurers. A tiny ball of fire flicks this way and that, directed by a dark shape sitting on the outermost ring of the sculpture the warp gate is part of. The shape opens its eyes, looking down lazily while its tail thrashes. The ball of firelight seems to be following the tip of the tail. It's... a house-cat? Here? "Travellers from outside the Land of Steel," the Black Cat purrs. "From whence do you hail? Or, more importantly... whom do you serve?" The cat is outside Riva's immediate reach, and for something so small, it's giving you an awfully predatory vibe. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna whiiiiines in protest. A squeaky, hacky noise. She even SNEEZES on the way to Riva... and seems all to willing to dive in for some good pettings! It ends with her CURLING AROUND the back of Riva's neck under the ponytail and leaning slightly forward.... like some weird, living neck-warmer. Finna's shivering a little. Childishly. "You weren't supposed to spot me so soon! This place suuuuuuucks, why'd you co--"     FWOOOOOOSH.     She's down on the ground INSTANTLY, on all fours. Her body's pointed like an arrow, ready to bolt in any possible direction.. and ears up and alert. The body language is clear.     The verge of fight or flight.     Oh no, she does not like this cat's sudden appearance. It snuck up on HER. That's impressive.     "It is usually polite to introduce oneself before asking such things." She exclaims cautiously. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga heads toward the fire with Riva and Finna, her eyes still roaming, senses reeling from the downright /wrong/ feeling of the energy in this place. "What has become of this land? Is the whole world like this?" she asks aloud. She could find out, perhaps, by letting down her defenses and ushering in the potential of at least temporary madness. It was something terrible, that is for certain. Inga looks to Riva, tilting her head slightly. Thread? "In this thread, I am afraid to look at the threads present to me at the moment," she says, obviously misunderstanding. As they approach the fire, Inga looks for life. She's leave the calling out to the rambunctious Riva. The fire is no campfire, but something else. A spell? A creature of flame? When they are plunged into darkness, Inga keeps her cool, breathing, preparing to let down her guard and open her magic sight... Then, a cat. Inga turns, blinking. A talking cat. It isn't as though she hadn't seen stranger things, there's a talking fox /right there/. Inga bows her head to the cat respectfully in greeting. "Greetings," she says, pleased with this turn of events. Cats like her. She is most certainly a cat person. Chosen of Freyja after all. "We are from many places and times. I serve the gods. I am Inga, chosen of Freyja--chosen of Gaia," she replies. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva gives Finna some happy foxpets and everyone is happy, The Cuteness level may abate the inherent creepiness for a short moment. ... Okay, not that long. Damn. This place is messed up. With a foxwarmer around her neck, Riva discovers a cat, and... It talks. Riva is brought up short, her initial impulses to treat it like a normal kitty overrun by the intense feeling this being exudes. Well, and that it's talking. It doesn't sound like it particularly wants or needs snuggles. "Oh, so this is the Land of Steel? Well, um. I'm Riva Banari. We're from another world, and uh... I work for the Bees, the Knights Templar, Heaven or Hell, and the Union, in no particular order." She shrugs. She sees no point in lying right now, despite Finna being on super suspicious time. "So what's your name, pretty kitty?" Despite this, Riva regains an attempt at a minor charm offensive. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The cat turns her eyes to Finna, fixing the Lunar with a feline stare. Don't cats usually stare at things they're hunting? That can't be comfortable. "It is usually polite for beasts who barge into another's territory to leave a gift," she says, "and to be less mouthy." In a manner only cats can, the one on the stone ring goes from intense staring to mellow lounging like a switch was flicked. The cat flicks its ears, and twitches its tail. "You have picked a poor time to be chosen by Gaia, little ones, who smells so sweet." She's apparently addressing both Riva and Inga. "But these names... I know some of them. 'Union'..." The cat says it like it was tasting it. She looks down through sleepy eyes. "You may call me Archer of Green, sweetlings." The intonation is all wrong for it to be a deliberate choice of word. "My Master's ally has been working to secure the aid of the Union, so it would be remiss of me to allow you to go on without a proper warning." The black cat's tail twitches. The ball of firelight swings up and points towards the path like an arrow. "That way lies danger, little ones," Archer of Green says. "But perhaps a sort of danger that can provide answers to your questions. There is no reward without an element of risk, yes?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     The fox frowns. Then answers the return with a grin. "Well, then. That makes us even. Finna Snowdancer, Chosen of Luna and ally of the Union."     She's rather unsettled by this cat's choice of words and tone... but manages to hide it. With a few seconds of shifting flesh and fur, she raises up in full human form with tattoos, tell, and glimmering Caste Mark on full display, though the latter gleams only just enough to be noticed. Ends up on a rather sly expression too.     "A Servant, I see. We ran into quite a greeting party." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods, folding her hands atop her staff. "It was not out decision to be chosen. Matters not, our Gaia is...different," Inga answers. Is this yet another midgard? "It is a pleasure to meet you, Archer of Green. I am also of the Union. Someone has come before us then?" she asks. A warning is then given. Inga's lips dip into a frown, looking down the path. Her pupils widen as she lets down her guard, opening herself to the Sight. She searches for a likely thread, prepared to sort through the strands of fate to find the most likely occurance... 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The way the cat says 'sweetling' causes Riva to shudder. She is currently experiencing 2 stacks of SPOOKED OUT, resulting in an estimation of P. SPOOKY. "I'm sorry, um, Archer of Green. I didn't expect to find a Servant here. Um.... What would be an appropriate gift for you? You don't seem like you'd be satisfied with catnip..." She pauses, and then nods. "Thank you for the warning, too. Danger, but maybe some kind of danger that can provide answers. Got it." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "How interesting," the black cat says in Finna's direction, with the kind of tone that says it really isn't. She might still be miffed about the politeness jab. Cats can be kind of... catty. Inga gets a more direct answer. "The Union has not come to this gate before, no. To our world? Well, of course. Ever since the Liners went out into the greater Multiverse, things have become more... complicated." "Mmmm... food from somewhere else," Archer of Green replies, watching Riva sort of out of the corner of her eye. "Something that doesn't taste of this dirty Grain." The cat sort of yawns. "I'm sure you can think of something else, though. Consider it when you return this way, hmm?" Inga's vision is... strange. It's not so much that it's difficult to find a certain thread as it is difficult to find a thread /at all/. There is nothing that lives here that they did not bring with them, at least not within sight of her. Things came to the ends of their threads a long, long time ago. Though, there is /one/ thing... Inga sees something superimposed on the darkness, as clear a vision as she's able to get: a cottage, resting within a yard of dead or dying plants. Kneeling in front of a flowerbed is an indistinct woman, trying to coax life out of the long-dead soil. The plants immediately in front of her look healthier than the specimens around, but Inga can see the life flowing out of them. She gets the impression this is the present, not the past or the future. She's seeing what's directly down that path. The thread is strong enough to follow without missing where it's going. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga stands very still, staring down the way the cat indicated, a look of concentration touched with confusion on her face. "Strange, they are all so old, so faded...all go backward....no. Wait. There is one," she says quietly, brow furrowed. "Yes...we could follow this." Inga closes her eyes, taking a few breaths in and out...then she turns back to the others, reaching into her pouch. She digs for a bit, then finally brings out what appears to be a piece of meat. It's probably goat. "A gift," she says, offering it to Archer of Green. "There is someone that way...could be fruitful. I can try to give us wards," she offers. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Dirty's such a strange word to use in combination with Grain." Finna exclaims. "This Grain though.... I can feel it crawling up my SOUL!" Can she really? Well. Maybe sorta kinda.     And that's enough to garner some sympathy from the fox. She digs around, pulls a leather draw-string bag out of seemingly NOWHERE... dangles and swings it back and forth a little... then gently tosses it Archer's way!     It's full of some dried but fairly tasty meats, and a few odd snacks from various stores across the Multiverse.     "Lead on, Inga! Anywhere is... better than this." Or at least, Finna suspects anywhere else couldn't be WORSE than this hellhole...     "This place gives me the willies. WILLIES. The UNDERWORLD has more life in it than this." ... Kind of. Maybe. Sorta. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva nods to the cat Servant. "Allright, Archer. No problem! I'll make sure to bring you something good next time!" She winks and gives a thumbsup, still bravely trying to work through the despair and unnatural environment that seems to seethe from this place. Though at this point, she turns to look to Inga, and frowns. "You see a path, Inga? All right. Let's head that way, but, um... Let's be careful. This place feels really messed up, and I get the feeling this isn't going to be so simple... If you wanna ward, go for it." She nods to the wisewoman. SHE'S CALLED WISE FOR A REASON. She does, however, reach out and give Finna a comforting scritch. They can be all creeped out together, it seems. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "Mmm-hmmm." You'd better remember, Riva. Archer of Green rouses. She stretches at length. Then, she jumps off the stone edifice and onto the wisewoman's shoulder, landing with a light touch and taking the offered morsel out of her hand. Finna's belated offering gets a little tailflick; the fire dims, and the bag just happens to land with the cord looped around her tail. The black cat jumps to the ground strewn with steel sand, and, without further commentary, saunters off into the darkness. The little ball of fire drifts to the ground near Inga's feet, and puffs out with a little flare. The darkness settles in again. The cat is gone. There is one benefit to such a dead world and a clear sky: starlight and moonlight illuminate the way. If there is one thing to be taken as a comfort, it's the moon, shining as it ever has. Inga's Sight leads them along the path, over the footbridges and through what must have once been a copse of trees, towards the mental image of a cottage in this dead and desolate place. They pass abandoned food stands and a low building that looks like it might have once been a bathroom, and around the corner... ...is, well, a cottage. The building is a little oddly-shaped, but it's hard to see why in the darkness. The peaked roof stands out; so does some kind of extra bit sticking out the front of it, making a vaguely triangular awning. It stands on short and thick irregularly-placed stilts, with steps leading onto the porch. An old lantern hangs on a hook, casting light downward from the wooden porch over what looks like flowerbeds. The beds themselves are set-up along the interior perimeter of a rickety, uneven fence that surrounds the yard. Kneeling at one of the beds is an old woman in patched and ragged clothes that have clearly seen better days. Her dress is deep but faded blue with a dark red stripe up the middle. Her pink sleeves, even rolled up, are still patched nearly as much as the front of her dress. Her hair is stringy and white, and falls down around her face while she remains hunched over the barren beds of turned earth. "Terrible, just terrible," she mutters to herself, clearly irritated. "This wretched place, where nothing grows..." A few plants are clearly withered in front of her, but everything else is just that same grey sand. "A proper garden is going to be /impossible/ to cultivate again...!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The wisewoman isn't sure how well this will work, but she's willing to give it a try. Inga draws her knife and slits into her inner arm, drawing upon her anima.... except that what she usually draws from is very, very far away. It is accessible, but it would take too long to draw from it. There is an energy around them, she'd been feeling it...but it is like the sweet honey of the usual anima has turned to ashes. It is rotted. But could she still use it? "Nnnn..." she groans, drawing on the energy of what the cat calls Grain. Inga turns a very interesting shade of pale green, smearing herself, Riva and Finna with the blood in a quick rune, whispering the words of her ward. She then promptly turns to the side and loses her lunch. Once that has been taken care of, Inga reaches for a flask. It is filled with whiskey. She takes a generous drink, shuddering. "The anima in this place....it is vile," she breathes. The cat jumps onto her shoulder, luckily not knocking her over in the process. She gives the scrap of goat meat to her, watching the cat stalk off. Their light disappears as well, naturally. Still, the moon is bright above them. Their eyes will adjust. Inga begins forward, leaning on her staff as she follows the path she knows now is there. Around the corner is the cottage, standing out like, well, a cottage in the middle of a city of steel and glass. Inga approaches, stoppping an acceptable distance away before hailing the woman there. There's something uncanny going on. She's sure of it. This is entirely out of place from what they've seen so far. "Hail," she calls. She bows some if the woman turns at her greeting. "No, the soil here appears to be very poor. The earth is dead. I have dried herbs to offer if you have need. I am Inga. This is Riva and Finna....we're travelers," she explains, watching the older woman, glancing now and then to her cottage and failing garden. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva blinks at the reaction when Inga draws upon the native energy of the place ."Eeeeeeeew." She sums it up. However, she accepts the ward. She sure as hell isn't going to quibble after Inga went through that for it. Riva follows Inga's nose (or Sight, as it were) to the cottage, where she sees cottage and a woman in the area in an unusual location. Oh well, there's weirder things here, right? With a wave, Riva greets the woman. "Hello, ma'am." She says politely. "Nice to meet you!" This feels like an Inga thing. Riva was never all that good at gardening. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna ends up scritched! While in human form. This gets a much more vivid reaction from her than she wants people to see. A pleased, dopey look is teased out of her. Only for... only for her to shiver and batter away at the hand with a fluttering motion of her own. "Gah-yah-yah what are you doing!"     Well.     There's one weakness revealed.     Embarassingly so. Finna starts blushing so hard that she shifts swiftly back to fox form. Foxes don't blush. Remarkably, the blood ward remains through the shapeshifting, though is hard to see through the fur.     In fox form she slowly paces up to the old woman. "You're brave, old woman. But the earth here has no blessings to yield, does it? Why spend your life so far out in the middle of nowhere, alone? My people would weep seeing anyone living this way..." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "Yes, yes," the old woman says, waving a gnarled old hand in Inga's direction without looking up. "But even dead things have their uses." She traces a circle in the turned soil with a fingertip, muttering something that sounds like a kind of gutteral coughing noise. The withered little plant seems to gain a little of its color, slowly straightening, starting to stand tall... ...and then it wilts again. It withers in fast-forward, shivering and drying up. Flakes of it break off and drift to the ground, grey like the sandy earth. "Bah!" The crone starts to stand. She snatches up what looks like a thick walking stick next to her, using it to get to her feet with some effort. She turns to the trio, fixing suspicious eyes on them over a hooked nose. "You must have travelled far to carry with you herbs of any sort," she observes. "I know of only a few who could make this worthless poison," she spits, "yield anything of /use/. At least," she sighs, "in the /old/ ways." Her lip curls into a smile. "Such polite travellers. For the most part, that is." She lifts her smooth stick, pointing the bottom at Finna and staggering towards them. It looks like it's wider at the top and the bottom, and narrows somewhere just beneath the top of it. Odd. Her expression sours. "Why indeed? Your people would have stories about folk such as I, living in places such as this. The deep forests do not /exist/, child. Where else would one such as myself live, if not among the towering trunks of the old and dead?" She stops on the far side of the rickety, uneven fence, just on the other side of the gate. The old woman eyes the trio. "You may call me 'grandmother,' if it pleases you. Why have you come here? Merely to mock an old woman?" She glares daggers at the Lunar. When she looks at Riva and Inga, at least, she seems... a little bit more pleasant. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods to the old woman, smiling slight at her comment about dead things. "Yes, that is quite true," she replies, watching the woman...the...entity, perform a spell. A twinge of excitement plucks at her heart. "The bones of a sacrificed man make a good talisman against famine, the blood of a sacrificed king even better...It is said if you sit on a grave mound through the night near the winter solstice will tell you all about the year to come," she says, leaning on her own staff. Inga isn't an old woman, but she needs the staff all the same. She suspects this is someone whom she might just have a few things in common with. But caution is called for, because she is generally not an idiot. "We have come very far indeed, grandmother," she answers. "I would be willing to share what herbs I have grown and harvested. A gift. We hope to find out more about what has happened in this place," Inga continues, remaining respectful. Careful. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva continues to take this with a soft touch. After the black cat that was also a Servant, this person, well... Seems strange. Inga also immediately takes to her, which gives her more hints on what's going on here. A fellow wise woman? Maybe. Or something else entirely. Riva nods and bows to the ages woman. "Thank you, grandmother. No, we're not here to mock you. We're here to, um, explore. We're not from this world." Riva points out. "As Inga said, we're trying to learn what happened to this place. It looks pretty extensive." Yeah, way to understate, Riva. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Oh yes. Finna's people have some stories about strange people hiding in the boonies.     Rarely good ones.     "They do not." Speaks the fox. "For the ice and the snow claims the elderly who stand alone. To be without one's family and people in their elder years... that's embracing death with open arms, it is." Her words are delivered in a sad, morose tone.     Finna would frown, were she in human form. That problem is solved in no time at all though. She shifts back after hopping backwards. She's not keen on being so much SMALLER than this woman when she's clearly capable of sorcery. So she is left frowning pretty clearly.     "Finna Snowdancer of Luna's Chosen." The frown's wiped away in a hurry, exchanged for a rather genuine display of youthful, charming rascally-ness. There's warm affection and respect in her eyes, smile, and tone. Just... not her phrasing.     "There are greener pastures I could introduce you to!"     But her tail isn't wagging. As genuine as her words are, she's WARY of this woman... 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "A king? Ha. There is little enough order in this place for there to be kings. No one has the ability, and certainly not the will." She plants the end of her stick on the ground in front of her and leans on the end, her hands folded. "It would take a much greater sacrifice than blood and bones to make these lands green again. Hard work. Discipline. Sacrifice..." A look of intensity crosses her lined face. "...and the willingness to pay whatever price there may be." She switches subjects, the intense look fading. She considers Inga for a moment. "If a cat washes its face, one can expect guests soon. As it happens, the only cat I know of did that very thing mere minutes ago. I suspect it was having a laugh at my expense." Her tone of voice makes it clear what she thinks about /that/. It isn't anything good. Grandmother turns to Finna. "I do not fear the cold. I have no need of family, and my 'people' have been dead for the span of an age." She scowls, but not necessarily at Finna. "This is my home. If it wishes to come for me, death will have to pass through the gate like anyone else. It is here I will stay." She lifts her staff, and pounds the end against the dry earth with a heavy 'thump.' A ripple of dark blue spreads out from the bottom of the staff. It rolls across the interior of the yard and strikes the perimeter fence, lighting it up with sparks of flashes of amber light like momentary fireflies. Motes of it scatter, the reacting Grain casting odd light across the front of the cottage. The triangular portrusion is no simple overhang, but an old and scratched beak. The stilts are not stilts at all, but the legs of a chicken, bent low with its feet planted firmly. The fence is not rickety at all. It stands strong, and gleams white -- the white of clean bones, standing like fused spears all around the yard. A greatsword made of too-white, too-luminescent bone flickers and hisses with amber sparks, the weapon worked into the grotesque gate of human (and... not quite not-human) bones. Another, similar display is coming from the fence that runs along one side of the house, but it's difficult to pick out the shape among the rest of the patchwork barrier. The gate swings open noiselessly, admitting the trio. The hunched crone turns, starting back towards her chicken-legged hut. "Come. There is bread, and drink. I will not speak of ancient matters on my step, gift or no. Far be it from me to ignore portents and turn away guests." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "No...not this land. This land would take much more," she replies, frowning gently. But the woman seems to understand. Inga is sure she is on the right track. She is sure they are dealing with a wisewoman, and one of considerable power. This is only reinforced by her next actions. Inga's eyes widen a bit, a smile unable not to appear as she sees a bone fence surrounding the strange cottage...a hut with chicken legs and a beak? How strange! Strange, but powerful magic. Then, there is a brief moment of unadultered glee. She gazes as the bone fence as one would gaze at work of art. For that is what it is. "Ooh...your bone fence. It is impeccable," she compliments. She swallows, regaining her cool, nodding to Grandmother. "We thank you for your hospitality grandmother," she says, then follows the old woman inside, where she would begin to produce her gifts of herbs. She has some goodies. Henbane, deadly nightshade, mugwort, mandrake root...it's all dried and tied up neat, fresh from her garden and harvested during the correct moon phase. If a seat is offered, she takes one. "We did meet the cat, Archer of Green. She pointed us in your direction," Inga confirms. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva does not jump in on the intense subject of the land recovering being discussed. This seems to be a conversation between the old woman and Inga, something passing between them and she doesn't understand. She really needs more dots in Occult. "The cat does seem to be pretty cat-like." Riva shrugs, offering a response kind of lamely. When the staff strikes down, lighting things up, Riva blinks and gapes at the realization that she's looking at a bone fence, like Inga's, but... moreso. The strange greatsword catches Riva's eyes and makes her shift nervously. Something about it makes her uncomfotable... Both protection and warning, it seems. More importantly, the sight of that cottage. Something stirs in the back of Riva's mind, but... What? She works her jaw for a moment, a memory on the edge of recollection, but it slips away. That's important. There is an invitation, however, and Riva isn't going to slight her by turning it down. That would be rude. And it's /very clear/ what the grandmother thinks of rudeness. Riva walks in, deferring to Inga and letting her take the lead on things. She has a feeling this is going to be something Inga and Finna are going to be better at handling. Well, maybe Inga, anyway. Poor Finna. Riva sits down after Inga does if seats are available. Otherwise she stands nearby. It seems safer to her to make it appear that Riva is Inga's attendant in some manner. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Really? SHOCK breaks Finna's typically rascally demeanor. Her eyes go wide. "... My apologies, grandmother. Though I should have guessed from before. Nobody who needs food or water can survive out here." She does indeed sound genuinely sympathetic to be facing someone who's lost everything at least!     Though flickers of fear flash in her eyes with every show of Great Magics. Particularly for what it reveals. The fur of her tail stands out straight and she actually starts taking a few steps backwards. Struggling to not start hissing and panicking.     Particularly when she starts offering food and drink. ALARM BELLS TIME.     "This land isn't merely dead. It's cursed. The Grain is like sandpaper on my soul. A poison that's found everywhere. ... I hate to say it, but most people would be better served leaving through the warp gates..."     Nevertheless, offered hospitality, and in the face of such sorcery, she does bow her head gratefully at the old woman. "Now I regret giving all I came with to the cat. From where do you come, Grandmother?" She walks in, but is remaining on guard. And definitely uncertainw hether it's actually safe to eat the food here... 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "It takes wisdom to recognize that," the old woman says, a little mollified. It /is/ a nice fence. The interior of the hut is... well, it's probably bigger on the inside than the outside, anyway. It's difficult to tell -- the oddness that is the huge iron oven that seems to wrap around the interior, covering a single wall and all three others simultaneously, definitely throws off estimations of space. Still, shelves are ever-present, full of bottles, jars, trinkets and sundries, plus the occasional bunch of drying herbs. It looks like there are a lot more gaps in those than there should be. It must be difficult finding proper herbs on this world. The crone gestures at a round table. There are a number of stools around it, plain but solidly built, and enough for everyone. Precisely enough, in fact. "Sit, sit." She moves over to another table, or... maybe the oven...? ...and busies herself with something or other. Glass clinks. "She would. She thinks I like her company." She scoffs. "Presumptuous creature. She was probably hoping for scraps from my table once your visit was concluded." She turns, and puts a plate on the table, along with a glass for each and a small, stoppered bottle. A measure of clear liquid is poured into each glass. She very deliberately cuts the bread with a sharp knife, a thick piece of the hearty loaf for each person. Only then does she actually sit. "Humility sits better with these old bones than childish antics," the old woman says to Finna. She lifts her glass, taking a drink. Anyone who guessed 'vodka' for what she poured would be right. "I am from very far away. If you wish to know where, you must do for me a service, like all the others. I will speak on this world I live in, and little else." A little gesture. "Your food is not made with the poisonous Grain that fills the air. My home, it is clean." It certainly doesn't smell the same -- but there's a sort of musky smell instead. It's probably coming from her. "You are my guests." She puts the glass down with a scowl, eyeing the three. "Relax." She seems to take her own advice, at least a little, after that. "It is cursed, yes, and dead besides. An ancient curse... it has polluted this place, and given rise to all manner of mischief and chaos." She waves one hand towards the ceiling. "The beasts who speak like men, they say it is the humans who must go. The toy soldiers made like humans, they say it is the beasts who must be slain. Back and forth, this way and that... fie on them, and their 'war'." Grandmother snorts. "Babel's Tale... poetic, ehn, perhaps, but wasteful all the same. Sacrifices in the name of nothing are /worth/ nothing. Wouldn't you say?" She turns to Inga, staring. "You are a wise one, yes? Speak wisdom." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Riva, raises a brow slightly. She's feeling a bit out of place she thinks. Nervous. Well, she probably should be. They all should be. A glance and a smile toward Finna. She's given her warning. That's all Inga can really do. There's danger here, but opporunity as well. Inga accepts the drink and the bread, thanking Grandmother. She takes a sip of the vodka, recognizing it for what it is only because she's had some schooling in alcoholic beverages since her arrival in the multiverse. Inga looks around the hut, taking note of things. How it is bigger on the inside. That's not completely foreign to her these days, but still a bit unsettling. She does note the herbs present, then reaches into her pouch to pull out a few dried bundles she thinks the wisewoman might find useful. "I hope these will be a useful addition Grandmother," she says, laying them neatly out on the table like an offering. Inga has a bite of her bread too, trusting that it is good. As Grandmother said, is is not made here. That much is plain. Inga frowns thoughtfully then. "A curse. Quite a curse," she comments. She can't imagine the raw power that would be needed to curse an entire world...for it is the whole world, isn't it? When addressed, Inga's lips thin slightly in thought. "I am unfamiliar with this tale of Babel, and as for wisdom, I am not as wise as those who have come before me. But I know, at least, that a sacrifice must have true worth to be a sacrifice. It must have value, or it is no sacrifice at all," she agrees. "You mentioned a service to be done. What could we help you with, Grandmother?" Inga asks. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "mmmmhhhh...." Finna's struggling to show manners. It's not natural to her. She's consistently glancing at the others for leads. But that seems to be enough after a bit. A bit of focus and rapid study of Inga's manners is all it takes. Just a minute of hyper-observation between her and the old woman...     After a deep breath, her whole demeanor seems to slowly drift into a new style. A new calm.     How irritating it is though. IF she's going to be drinking she'd rather it be in a nice big hall that smells familiar, full of rowdy tale-telling and egotistical guys trying to win her favor. Crazy things like that.     This setting is cramped. But... this whole world sucks.     "Sacrifices to gods are meaningless without gods to answer. Sacrificing sweat and toil won't bring anything green from this soil. Fighting over a decaying corpse is a losing battle for everyone.... just what happened here, grandmother?"     How acting this way goes against her grain.     But it is perhaps wiser to not rouse the ire of a strange sorceress with such disturrrrrrrrbing tastes in aesthetics.     When Finna leaves here, she is NOT coming back. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' As much as Riva wants to Google what's up with this, the collective knowledge of Mankind is not available to her. Not since she can't get signal, because she does. It's because it's /impolite/ to use your cellphone at the table, and it's /very clear/ that impolitness is something that is not appreciated by Grandmother. So Riva keeps her hands on the table, her back straight. Something about this makes her feel like she's 10 years old again, sitting at Grandma's table and being really polite at a house that smelled weird. In fact, it's exactly like that. It's both familiar and disturbing. Riva fidgets a little in her chair, and takes the vodka and slice of bread. "Thank you, Grandmother." Riva says, smiling faintly. She takes a drink, blinking in surprise at the vodka, but she doesn't seem to have too much trouble with it. The bread is chewed slowly, but steadily. She's going to clean her plate just like she's supposed to. She does, however, nod in agreement with Inga. "It's true. What can we do for you, Grandmother? If something can make things better for you, we can give you a hand." Just... not literally. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The crone examines the offering critically, and nods. "They will. Thank you, child." She sounds positively, well, grandmotherly, when she says that. She carefully sweeps the offered herbs... somewhere. They end up with the rest. A number of the gaps have been filled, if only a little. She drinks, and pours. It seems like she is intent on making sure the bottle is emptied over the course of this discussion, even if at least Finna is eager to make that as short as possible. "You owe me no service. Those coming to ask for charms, or knowledge... /they/ will serve. There are always tasks to be done, and failure... well." Her eyes trail to the door. The fence of human bones suddenly comes to mind. The old woman smiles, though, and it is not wicked or ugly for a change. "Your generosity towards an old woman is touching. However." She raps a knuckle against the wooden tabletop. "Rules are rules, eh? They will perhaps change for next time you visit. You /will/ come again, I hope." Oh dear. She becomes serious again. The almost friendly demeanor melts off her features. "Babel's Tale is what they call this newest war of theirs. It is as useless as all wars are." She drinks again, her scowl returning. "An argument between petulant children, cast in blood and fire and the tools of the 'civilized' as they remember what it means to be wild. A fable, writ over the rust and dust of a dead world, that none will ever read." "Mankind -- humanity, as you know it -- is all but gone. They have sequestered their survivors in cradles of iron, sealed against the poisonous outside. They do not leave their precious cradles, yet they work, and toil, and make their false children, the toy soldiers: Liners. The Liners leave the cradle..." She walks two fingers across the surface of the table as she speaks, away from her glass, covered with her other hand. "...and find the other legacy of humanity. A-RAYS. Beast-men. Proud warriors, prouder still of their wars without war. The strong survive, and though the Liners live in this poisonous air, oh, they are not truly /strong/, not like they. They take a stone, and --" She lifts her other hand, and slams it onto the table, rattling the glasses. "-- dash the Liners' brains across the ground with it. They are not strong, you see," Grandmother says, eyeing the three, "but they are the /strongest/. Without them, what is left of the humans will surely curl up and die, like wounded animals must." The old woman snorts. She refills her glass. "Surely. That is what humankind has always done. Simply laid down and died. Surely that will work here." She chuckles, unkindly. "I do not need to tell you that it did not, and will not. They made stronger soldiers. Strengthened the mold. Added more of the poison, to make them swllow it down more readily. 'Take your filthy medicine, child,' the men in the cradle say, 'and it will make you big and strong!'" Her scowl deepens. "It did." "They call them the Ether Liners. They face the A-RAYS with sorcery that has not been seen..." She looks suddenly thoughtful, like she's reminiscing. "...for a very, very long time. Weapons that warp time and space. That govern life, or death. They change the world to their wills. And instead of fixing it, what do they do?" She lifts her glass, saluting mockingly. "Pen another line of the Tale in blood, all across the dust. Well done, 'heroes.'" The crone tosses back the liquid without expression. "They are strong, and they are worthless, so long as they fight for the purpose of fighting. They do not make sacrifices to their gods," she tells Finna, "but to the cold, warped altar of /progress/. The A-RAYS treat them like animals that need be culled, but not an infestation to be exterminated, and every generation is stronger than the last. They underestimate their resolve. Yet none, still, will break this curse that holds this world drowning beneath the surface of a sea of corpse-dust." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' With a slow, deliberate motion, she puts the glass back on the tabletop. "The world did not die a good death," the crone says. "A ghost in the shape of a man laid it low with evil power from a contest he did not rightly win. And so, it could still be recovered. Clung to, until its proper time. Perhaps. Perhaps..." She sighs. "But I ramble, and carry on. Eat. Drink. Leave when you are finished. Return when you have more questions, and are prepared to work." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva listens to the information given studiously. Her phone is also listening, of course, but Grandmother doesn't need to know that. Over time, the information is given, food is eatenr, drinks are finished, and then they are dismissed. Next time, they will need to be prepared to work. As they leave the bone fence, Riva pulls out her phone and taps at it. There is a moment as she flicks over the lambent light of her display... And her eyes widen. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" She yells, suddenly turning and picking up Inga. "Inga, WE ARE LEAVING NOW. FINNA, MOVE KTHANKSBAI." She immediately begins fireman carrying Inga to the gate at top speed, panicked. Sometimes, even Google doesn't give you nice answers. 
}}

3486/Mother, Maiden, Crone

2015-12-07T07:59:16Z

Binary:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/12/06
|Location=Land of Steel
|Synopsis=Visitors to the Land of Steel meet a couple of its stranger denizens. One is much more frightening than the other.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=495, 513, 525, 687
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The Land of Steel is an inhospitable place at the best of times. The dull grey sky is uniform and uninteresting; the ground, cracked, dry and dead, is covered in part by sands of the same color, and broken by human edifice stretched out across the world. There are no plants to be seen, and no birds or beasts cry to fill the skies. It is a place of silence. When the grim reality of it sets in, it is perhaps most important to remember that it is /an/ Earth, but it is not /your/ Earth. But the most chilling thought about it is that perhaps, one day, it /could/ be. Agartha leads to all places, and to all times... The warp gate opens up in the middle of a city. The gate itself stands in what once might have been a park, a large standing ring in the middle of a cluster of five stone rings aligned for each to be smaller than the other. It's some kind of sculpture that has a use. Nearby, what looks like a wooden gazebo stands, but the old, worn-out plastic surface betrays its true nature. Dry stream-beds are scattered around, bridged by the remains of picturesque walkways. Skyscrapers stretch in every direction, towerig monoliths to a seemingly deceased civilization. It's just past sunset, and nothing else in the city is lit up -- except, that is, for a tiny flickering firelight swinging lazily near the far edge of the barren park. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga had been in a trance-state when Riva called. Who could know how long she'd been that way. Hours, maybe a dozen of them. Maybe days. She didn't /think/ days...but she couldn't be sure. Wasn't it Woden's day? Or was it wash day? Either way, she'd run out of roving and her spindle was full with freshly spun yarn. Time to go do something. She'd managed to clean up and put on fresh clothing before Riva showed up, hauled her over her shoulder and promptly taken off. Small blessings? Now, she thinks maybe she should have stayed home. The sense of death--no, not even death, death sounds too active. Decay. The sense of decay is like a slap to the face--or the soul. It is jarring. That bright energy she's accustomed to feeling feels so far away, and what /is/ here feels...rotten somehow. "What is this...?" she asks, turning toward Riva as she tries to straighten her dress and cloak. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' ADVENTURE TIME! Riva does this occasionally. Ususallly, it results in ice cream, clothes shopping, or random cool things. This time, maybe not so much. The arrival in the Land of Steel causes Riva to kind of stop and look around with a frown, clearly unsettled. She sets Inga down so she can settle herself and she folds her arms, looking over the blasted landscape and decrepit archetecture. "This looks like a very bad place." Riva replies. "... But whatever happened here, there's an open Warpgate and that means what happened here can happen elsewhere. We should look around and see if we can find some hints on what's up." She smiles, probably trying to put on a brave face for the much more serious and reserved Inga. "Don't worry about it! I'll watch your back. You're great at finding things out, right? Just head in whatever direction seems right. IT's not like we have any particular plan here..." And then she squints at the firelight and points. "Inga, over there, do you see that fire?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     When Riva steps through the warp gate there is in fact a second ripple! But it's easy to miss, for the fox is colored similar to the flux of the warp gate and takes not another step on her padded feet more than Riva. Their steps are in sync, allowing her to slip around behind the wreckage of a bench and peek around, watching the two girls!     At first the fox's tail was wagging, but after getting a few whiffs of THIS area.... not so much. Her initial playfulness and desire to prank the two has quickly dwindled away. This place.     This palce is AWFUL.     And it gives her the shivers. "Grbrbrrwarb... these two... think there's /adventure/ here?" She hisses under her breath, no longer so sure... 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga leans on her staff, looking around what she now recognizes as a park. Or, what used to be a park, anyway. She looks up at the skyscrapers, frowning deeply. "They loom like the broken skeletons of giants. It is incredibly eery," she says quietly. With a sigh, Inga reaches to her belt, begining to detach the leather bag that holds her runes. "I can read the runes perhaps. I am...not terribly inclined to open my Sight right now," she says. Of course, she might not have a choice. Sometimes the Sight opens her. Something else prickles her senses, so Inga turns to see a fox has followed them. She raises a brow. "Finna? Well, why not," she says, looking back to Riva. Riva mentions a fire. Inga squints, looking in the direction Riva pointed. "Very well, let's investigate. Do you think...people can still live in this place? It feels as though nothing is alive here." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva shudders in response to Inga, nodding. "Yeah, I know... exactly what you mean." That pulse of life, always so close to her... It seems very far away, now. However, Inga notices a tagalong. Riva starts, apparently not having even noticed the fox. "Finna?!" She says in surprise, blinking... And then she sees the fox. "Oh! Hi Finna! Come on over here!" She calls, stooping and holding out her hands. Should Finna approach, Riva will pick up Finna and lavish some attention on her. She's always liked it before! She does, however, nod and agree with Inga. "Life finds a way, doesn't it? I'll take the lead." Riva says, and steps forward, waving with a free hand. "Hey you guyyyyyyyyyyys!" Riva calls to the fire. "What's goin on in this thread?" Surely this won't go horribly at all. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The dread that comes with stepping onto a dead world is understandable. To those sensitive to the pulse of Gaia, the /lack/ is a silence that is almost deafening in its intensity. Beyond the brief breeze from the gate's opening and closing, there isn't even a breeze. The lack of a scent of decay, or of anything but dust, is unnerving to those who rely on more than sight. Shouldn't something this dead reek, even to the mundane? Riva calls out. The firelight in the distance... sways, and then moves. It seems to approach. It isn't a campfire, or anything of the sort; it looks like a little ball, swinging gently back and forth in the dark. It's low to the ground, coming across the bridges. Then... it winks out, gone entirely, as if it had never been. The darkness closes in again. A tense few moments pass. A little bit of light appears above the heads of the would-be adventurers. A tiny ball of fire flicks this way and that, directed by a dark shape sitting on the outermost ring of the sculpture the warp gate is part of. The shape opens its eyes, looking down lazily while its tail thrashes. The ball of firelight seems to be following the tip of the tail. It's... a house-cat? Here? "Travellers from outside the Land of Steel," the Black Cat purrs. "From whence do you hail? Or, more importantly... whom do you serve?" The cat is outside Riva's immediate reach, and for something so small, it's giving you an awfully predatory vibe. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna whiiiiines in protest. A squeaky, hacky noise. She even SNEEZES on the way to Riva... and seems all to willing to dive in for some good pettings! It ends with her CURLING AROUND the back of Riva's neck under the ponytail and leaning slightly forward.... like some weird, living neck-warmer. Finna's shivering a little. Childishly. "You weren't supposed to spot me so soon! This place suuuuuuucks, why'd you co--"     FWOOOOOOSH.     She's down on the ground INSTANTLY, on all fours. Her body's pointed like an arrow, ready to bolt in any possible direction.. and ears up and alert. The body language is clear.     The verge of fight or flight.     Oh no, she does not like this cat's sudden appearance. It snuck up on HER. That's impressive.     "It is usually polite to introduce oneself before asking such things." She exclaims cautiously. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga heads toward the fire with Riva and Finna, her eyes still roaming, senses reeling from the downright /wrong/ feeling of the energy in this place. "What has become of this land? Is the whole world like this?" she asks aloud. She could find out, perhaps, by letting down her defenses and ushering in the potential of at least temporary madness. It was something terrible, that is for certain. Inga looks to Riva, tilting her head slightly. Thread? "In this thread, I am afraid to look at the threads present to me at the moment," she says, obviously misunderstanding. As they approach the fire, Inga looks for life. She's leave the calling out to the rambunctious Riva. The fire is no campfire, but something else. A spell? A creature of flame? When they are plunged into darkness, Inga keeps her cool, breathing, preparing to let down her guard and open her magic sight... Then, a cat. Inga turns, blinking. A talking cat. It isn't as though she hadn't seen stranger things, there's a talking fox /right there/. Inga bows her head to the cat respectfully in greeting. "Greetings," she says, pleased with this turn of events. Cats like her. She is most certainly a cat person. Chosen of Freyja after all. "We are from many places and times. I serve the gods. I am Inga, chosen of Freyja--chosen of Gaia," she replies. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva gives Finna some happy foxpets and everyone is happy, The Cuteness level may abate the inherent creepiness for a short moment. ... Okay, not that long. Damn. This place is messed up. With a foxwarmer around her neck, Riva discovers a cat, and... It talks. Riva is brought up short, her initial impulses to treat it like a normal kitty overrun by the intense feeling this being exudes. Well, and that it's talking. It doesn't sound like it particularly wants or needs snuggles. "Oh, so this is the Land of Steel? Well, um. I'm Riva Banari. We're from another world, and uh... I work for the Bees, the Knights Templar, Heaven or Hell, and the Union, in no particular order." She shrugs. She sees no point in lying right now, despite Finna being on super suspicious time. "So what's your name, pretty kitty?" Despite this, Riva regains an attempt at a minor charm offensive. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The cat turns her eyes to Finna, fixing the Lunar with a feline stare. Don't cats usually stare at things they're hunting? That can't be comfortable. "It is usually polite for beasts who barge into another's territory to leave a gift," she says, "and to be less mouthy." In a manner only cats can, the one on the stone ring goes from intense staring to mellow lounging like a switch was flicked. The cat flicks its ears, and twitches its tail. "You have picked a poor time to be chosen by Gaia, little ones, who smells so sweet." She's apparently addressing both Riva and Inga. "But these names... I know some of them. 'Union'..." The cat says it like it was tasting it. She looks down through sleepy eyes. "You may call me Archer of Green, sweetlings." The intonation is all wrong for it to be a deliberate choice of word. "My Master's ally has been working to secure the aid of the Union, so it would be remiss of me to allow you to go on without a proper warning." The black cat's tail twitches. The ball of firelight swings up and points towards the path like an arrow. "That way lies danger, little ones," Archer of Green says. "But perhaps a sort of danger that can provide answers to your questions. There is no reward without an element of risk, yes?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     The fox frowns. Then answers the return with a grin. "Well, then. That makes us even. Finna Snowdancer, Chosen of Luna and ally of the Union."     She's rather unsettled by this cat's choice of words and tone... but manages to hide it. With a few seconds of shifting flesh and fur, she raises up in full human form with tattoos, tell, and glimmering Caste Mark on full display, though the latter gleams only just enough to be noticed. Ends up on a rather sly expression too.     "A Servant, I see. We ran into quite a greeting party." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods, folding her hands atop her staff. "It was not out decision to be chosen. Matters not, our Gaia is...different," Inga answers. Is this yet another midgard? "It is a pleasure to meet you, Archer of Green. I am also of the Union. Someone has come before us then?" she asks. A warning is then given. Inga's lips dip into a frown, looking down the path. Her pupils widen as she lets down her guard, opening herself to the Sight. She searches for a likely thread, prepared to sort through the strands of fate to find the most likely occurance... 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The way the cat says 'sweetling' causes Riva to shudder. She is currently experiencing 2 stacks of SPOOKED OUT, resulting in an estimation of P. SPOOKY. "I'm sorry, um, Archer of Green. I didn't expect to find a Servant here. Um.... What would be an appropriate gift for you? You don't seem like you'd be satisfied with catnip..." She pauses, and then nods. "Thank you for the warning, too. Danger, but maybe some kind of danger that can provide answers. Got it." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "How interesting," the black cat says in Finna's direction, with the kind of tone that says it really isn't. She might still be miffed about the politeness jab. Cats can be kind of... catty. Inga gets a more direct answer. "The Union has not come to this gate before, no. To our world? Well, of course. Ever since the Liners went out into the greater Multiverse, things have become more... complicated." "Mmmm... food from somewhere else," Archer of Green replies, watching Riva sort of out of the corner of her eye. "Something that doesn't taste of this dirty Grain." The cat sort of yawns. "I'm sure you can think of something else, though. Consider it when you return this way, hmm?" Inga's vision is... strange. It's not so much that it's difficult to find a certain thread as it is difficult to find a thread /at all/. There is nothing that lives here that they did not bring with them, at least not within sight of her. Things came to the ends of their threads a long, long time ago. Though, there is /one/ thing... Inga sees something superimposed on the darkness, as clear a vision as she's able to get: a cottage, resting within a yard of dead or dying plants. Kneeling in front of a flowerbed is an indistinct woman, trying to coax life out of the long-dead soil. The plants immediately in front of her look healthier than the specimens around, but Inga can see the life flowing out of them. She gets the impression this is the present, not the past or the future. She's seeing what's directly down that path. The thread is strong enough to follow without missing where it's going. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga stands very still, staring down the way the cat indicated, a look of concentration touched with confusion on her face. "Strange, they are all so old, so faded...all go backward....no. Wait. There is one," she says quietly, brow furrowed. "Yes...we could follow this." Inga closes her eyes, taking a few breaths in and out...then she turns back to the others, reaching into her pouch. She digs for a bit, then finally brings out what appears to be a piece of meat. It's probably goat. "A gift," she says, offering it to Archer of Green. "There is someone that way...could be fruitful. I can try to give us wards," she offers. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Dirty's such a strange word to use in combination with Grain." Finna exclaims. "This Grain though.... I can feel it crawling up my SOUL!" Can she really? Well. Maybe sorta kinda.     And that's enough to garner some sympathy from the fox. She digs around, pulls a leather draw-string bag out of seemingly NOWHERE... dangles and swings it back and forth a little... then gently tosses it Archer's way!     It's full of some dried but fairly tasty meats, and a few odd snacks from various stores across the Multiverse.     "Lead on, Inga! Anywhere is... better than this." Or at least, Finna suspects anywhere else couldn't be WORSE than this hellhole...     "This place gives me the willies. WILLIES. The UNDERWORLD has more life in it than this." ... Kind of. Maybe. Sorta. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva nods to the cat Servant. "Allright, Archer. No problem! I'll make sure to bring you something good next time!" She winks and gives a thumbsup, still bravely trying to work through the despair and unnatural environment that seems to seethe from this place. Though at this point, she turns to look to Inga, and frowns. "You see a path, Inga? All right. Let's head that way, but, um... Let's be careful. This place feels really messed up, and I get the feeling this isn't going to be so simple... If you wanna ward, go for it." She nods to the wisewoman. SHE'S CALLED WISE FOR A REASON. She does, however, reach out and give Finna a comforting scritch. They can be all creeped out together, it seems. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "Mmm-hmmm." You'd better remember, Riva. Archer of Green rouses. She stretches at length. Then, she jumps off the stone edifice and onto the wisewoman's shoulder, landing with a light touch and taking the offered morsel out of her hand. Finna's belated offering gets a little tailflick; the fire dims, and the bag just happens to land with the cord looped around her tail. The black cat jumps to the ground strewn with steel sand, and, without further commentary, saunters off into the darkness. The little ball of fire drifts to the ground near Inga's feet, and puffs out with a little flare. The darkness settles in again. The cat is gone. There is one benefit to such a dead world and a clear sky: starlight and moonlight illuminate the way. If there is one thing to be taken as a comfort, it's the moon, shining as it ever has. Inga's Sight leads them along the path, over the footbridges and through what must have once been a copse of trees, towards the mental image of a cottage in this dead and desolate place. They pass abandoned food stands and a low building that looks like it might have once been a bathroom, and around the corner... ...is, well, a cottage. The building is a little oddly-shaped, but it's hard to see why in the darkness. The peaked roof stands out; so does some kind of extra bit sticking out the front of it, making a vaguely triangular awning. It stands on short and thick irregularly-placed stilts, with steps leading onto the porch. An old lantern hangs on a hook, casting light downward from the wooden porch over what looks like flowerbeds. The beds themselves are set-up along the interior perimeter of a rickety, uneven fence that surrounds the yard. Kneeling at one of the beds is an old woman in patched and ragged clothes that have clearly seen better days. Her dress is deep but faded blue with a dark red stripe up the middle. Her pink sleeves, even rolled up, are still patched nearly as much as the front of her dress. Her hair is stringy and white, and falls down around her face while she remains hunched over the barren beds of turned earth. "Terrible, just terrible," she mutters to herself, clearly irritated. "This wretched place, where nothing grows..." A few plants are clearly withered in front of her, but everything else is just that same grey sand. "A proper garden is going to be /impossible/ to cultivate again...!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The wisewoman isn't sure how well this will work, but she's willing to give it a try. Inga draws her knife and slits into her inner arm, drawing upon her anima.... except that what she usually draws from is very, very far away. It is accessible, but it would take too long to draw from it. There is an energy around them, she'd been feeling it...but it is like the sweet honey of the usual anima has turned to ashes. It is rotted. But could she still use it? "Nnnn..." she groans, drawing on the energy of what the cat calls Grain. Inga turns a very interesting shade of pale green, smearing herself, Riva and Finna with the blood in a quick rune, whispering the words of her ward. She then promptly turns to the side and loses her lunch. Once that has been taken care of, Inga reaches for a flask. It is filled with whiskey. She takes a generous drink, shuddering. "The anima in this place....it is vile," she breathes. The cat jumps onto her shoulder, luckily not knocking her over in the process. She gives the scrap of goat meat to her, watching the cat stalk off. Their light disappears as well, naturally. Still, the moon is bright above them. Their eyes will adjust. Inga begins forward, leaning on her staff as she follows the path she knows now is there. Around the corner is the cottage, standing out like, well, a cottage in the middle of a city of steel and glass. Inga approaches, stoppping an acceptable distance away before hailing the woman there. There's something uncanny going on. She's sure of it. This is entirely out of place from what they've seen so far. "Hail," she calls. She bows some if the woman turns at her greeting. "No, the soil here appears to be very poor. The earth is dead. I have dried herbs to offer if you have need. I am Inga. This is Riva and Finna....we're travelers," she explains, watching the older woman, glancing now and then to her cottage and failing garden. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva blinks at the reaction when Inga draws upon the native energy of the place ."Eeeeeeeew." She sums it up. However, she accepts the ward. She sure as hell isn't going to quibble after Inga went through that for it. Riva follows Inga's nose (or Sight, as it were) to the cottage, where she sees cottage and a woman in the area in an unusual location. Oh well, there's weirder things here, right? With a wave, Riva greets the woman. "Hello, ma'am." She says politely. "Nice to meet you!" This feels like an Inga thing. Riva was never all that good at gardening. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna ends up scritched! While in human form. This gets a much more vivid reaction from her than she wants people to see. A pleased, dopey look is teased out of her. Only for... only for her to shiver and batter away at the hand with a fluttering motion of her own. "Gah-yah-yah what are you doing!"     Well.     There's one weakness revealed.     Embarassingly so. Finna starts blushing so hard that she shifts swiftly back to fox form. Foxes don't blush. Remarkably, the blood ward remains through the shapeshifting, though is hard to see through the fur.     In fox form she slowly paces up to the old woman. "You're brave, old woman. But the earth here has no blessings to yield, does it? Why spend your life so far out in the middle of nowhere, alone? My people would weep seeing anyone living this way..." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "Yes, yes," the old woman says, waving a gnarled old hand in Inga's direction without looking up. "But even dead things have their uses." She traces a circle in the turned soil with a fingertip, muttering something that sounds like a kind of gutteral coughing noise. The withered little plant seems to gain a little of its color, slowly straightening, starting to stand tall... ...and then it wilts again. It withers in fast-forward, shivering and drying up. Flakes of it break off and drift to the ground, grey like the sandy earth. "Bah!" The crone starts to stand. She snatches up what looks like a thick walking stick next to her, using it to get to her feet with some effort. She turns to the trio, fixing suspicious eyes on them over a hooked nose. "You must have travelled far to carry with you herbs of any sort," she observes. "I know of only a few who could make this worthless poison," she spits, "yield anything of /use/. At least," she sighs, "in the /old/ ways." Her lip curls into a smile. "Such polite travellers. For the most part, that is." She lifts her smooth stick, pointing the bottom at Finna and staggering towards them. It looks like it's wider at the top and the bottom, and narrows somewhere just beneath the top of it. Odd. Her expression sours. "Why indeed? Your people would have stories about folk such as I, living in places such as this. The deep forests do not /exist/, child. Where else would one such as myself live, if not among the towering trunks of the old and dead?" She stops on the far side of the rickety, uneven fence, just on the other side of the gate. The old woman eyes the trio. "You may call me 'grandmother,' if it pleases you. Why have you come here? Merely to mock an old woman?" She glares daggers at the Lunar. When she looks at Riva and Inga, at least, she seems... a little bit more pleasant. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods to the old woman, smiling slight at her comment about dead things. "Yes, that is quite true," she replies, watching the woman...the...entity, perform a spell. A twinge of excitement plucks at her heart. "The bones of a sacrificed man make a good talisman against famine, the blood of a sacrificed king even better...It is said if you sit on a grave mound through the night near the winter solstice will tell you all about the year to come," she says, leaning on her own staff. Inga isn't an old woman, but she needs the staff all the same. She suspects this is someone whom she might just have a few things in common with. But caution is called for, because she is generally not an idiot. "We have come very far indeed, grandmother," she answers. "I would be willing to share what herbs I have grown and harvested. A gift. We hope to find out more about what has happened in this place," Inga continues, remaining respectful. Careful. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva continues to take this with a soft touch. After the black cat that was also a Servant, this person, well... Seems strange. Inga also immediately takes to her, which gives her more hints on what's going on here. A fellow wise woman? Maybe. Or something else entirely. Riva nods and bows to the ages woman. "Thank you, grandmother. No, we're not here to mock you. We're here to, um, explore. We're not from this world." Riva points out. "As Inga said, we're trying to learn what happened to this place. It looks pretty extensive." Yeah, way to understate, Riva. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Oh yes. Finna's people have some stories about strange people hiding in the boonies.     Rarely good ones.     "They do not." Speaks the fox. "For the ice and the snow claims the elderly who stand alone. To be without one's family and people in their elder years... that's embracing death with open arms, it is." Her words are delivered in a sad, morose tone.     Finna would frown, were she in human form. That problem is solved in no time at all though. She shifts back after hopping backwards. She's not keen on being so much SMALLER than this woman when she's clearly capable of sorcery. So she is left frowning pretty clearly.     "Finna Snowdancer of Luna's Chosen." The frown's wiped away in a hurry, exchanged for a rather genuine display of youthful, charming rascally-ness. There's warm affection and respect in her eyes, smile, and tone. Just... not her phrasing.     "There are greener pastures I could introduce you to!"     But her tail isn't wagging. As genuine as her words are, she's WARY of this woman... 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "A king? Ha. There is little enough order in this place for there to be kings. No one has the ability, and certainly not the will." She plants the end of her stick on the ground in front of her and leans on the end, her hands folded. "It would take a much greater sacrifice than blood and bones to make these lands green again. Hard work. Discipline. Sacrifice..." A look of intensity crosses her lined face. "...and the willingness to pay whatever price there may be." She switches subjects, the intense look fading. She considers Inga for a moment. "If a cat washes its face, one can expect guests soon. As it happens, the only cat I know of did that very thing mere minutes ago. I suspect it was having a laugh at my expense." Her tone of voice makes it clear what she thinks about /that/. It isn't anything good. Grandmother turns to Finna. "I do not fear the cold. I have no need of family, and my 'people' have been dead for the span of an age." She scowls, but not necessarily at Finna. "This is my home. If it wishes to come for me, death will have to pass through the gate like anyone else. It is here I will stay." She lifts her staff, and pounds the end against the dry earth with a heavy 'thump.' A ripple of dark blue spreads out from the bottom of the staff. It rolls across the interior of the yard and strikes the perimeter fence, lighting it up with sparks of flashes of amber light like momentary fireflies. Motes of it scatter, the reacting Grain casting odd light across the front of the cottage. The triangular portrusion is no simple overhang, but an old and scratched beak. The stilts are not stilts at all, but the legs of a chicken, bent low with its feet planted firmly. The fence is not rickety at all. It stands strong, and gleams white -- the white of clean bones, standing like fused spears all around the yard. A greatsword made of too-white, too-luminescent bone flickers and hisses with amber sparks, the weapon worked into the grotesque gate of human (and... not quite not-human) bones. Another, similar display is coming from the fence that runs along one side of the house, but it's difficult to pick out the shape among the rest of the patchwork barrier. The gate swings open noiselessly, admitting the trio. The hunched crone turns, starting back towards her chicken-legged hut. "Come. There is bread, and drink. I will not speak of ancient matters on my step, gift or no. Far be it from me to ignore portents and turn away guests." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "No...not this land. This land would take much more," she replies, frowning gently. But the woman seems to understand. Inga is sure she is on the right track. She is sure they are dealing with a wisewoman, and one of considerable power. This is only reinforced by her next actions. Inga's eyes widen a bit, a smile unable not to appear as she sees a bone fence surrounding the strange cottage...a hut with chicken legs and a beak? How strange! Strange, but powerful magic. Then, there is a brief moment of unadultered glee. She gazes as the bone fence as one would gaze at work of art. For that is what it is. "Ooh...your bone fence. It is impeccable," she compliments. She swallows, regaining her cool, nodding to Grandmother. "We thank you for your hospitality grandmother," she says, then follows the old woman inside, where she would begin to produce her gifts of herbs. She has some goodies. Henbane, deadly nightshade, mugwort, mandrake root...it's all dried and tied up neat, fresh from her garden and harvested during the correct moon phase. If a seat is offered, she takes one. "We did meet the cat, Archer of Green. She pointed us in your direction," Inga confirms. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva does not jump in on the intense subject of the land recovering being discussed. This seems to be a conversation between the old woman and Inga, something passing between them and she doesn't understand. She really needs more dots in Occult. "The cat does seem to be pretty cat-like." Riva shrugs, offering a response kind of lamely. When the staff strikes down, lighting things up, Riva blinks and gapes at the realization that she's looking at a bone fence, like Inga's, but... moreso. The strange greatsword catches Riva's eyes and makes her shift nervously. Something about it makes her uncomfotable... Both protection and warning, it seems. More importantly, the sight of that cottage. Something stirs in the back of Riva's mind, but... What? She works her jaw for a moment, a memory on the edge of recollection, but it slips away. That's important. There is an invitation, however, and Riva isn't going to slight her by turning it down. That would be rude. And it's /very clear/ what the grandmother thinks of rudeness. Riva walks in, deferring to Inga and letting her take the lead on things. She has a feeling this is going to be something Inga and Finna are going to be better at handling. Well, maybe Inga, anyway. Poor Finna. Riva sits down after Inga does if seats are available. Otherwise she stands nearby. It seems safer to her to make it appear that Riva is Inga's attendant in some manner. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Really? SHOCK breaks Finna's typically rascally demeanor. Her eyes go wide. "... My apologies, grandmother. Though I should have guessed from before. Nobody who needs food or water can survive out here." She does indeed sound genuinely sympathetic to be facing someone who's lost everything at least!     Though flickers of fear flash in her eyes with every show of Great Magics. Particularly for what it reveals. The fur of her tail stands out straight and she actually starts taking a few steps backwards. Struggling to not start hissing and panicking.     Particularly when she starts offering food and drink. ALARM BELLS TIME.     "This land isn't merely dead. It's cursed. The Grain is like sandpaper on my soul. A poison that's found everywhere. ... I hate to say it, but most people would be better served leaving through the warp gates..."     Nevertheless, offered hospitality, and in the face of such sorcery, she does bow her head gratefully at the old woman. "Now I regret giving all I came with to the cat. From where do you come, Grandmother?" She walks in, but is remaining on guard. And definitely uncertainw hether it's actually safe to eat the food here... 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "It takes wisdom to recognize that," the old woman says, a little mollified. It /is/ a nice fence. The interior of the hut is... well, it's probably bigger on the inside than the outside, anyway. It's difficult to tell -- the oddness that is the huge iron oven that seems to wrap around the interior, covering a single wall and all three others simultaneously, definitely throws off estimations of space. Still, shelves are ever-present, full of bottles, jars, trinkets and sundries, plus the occasional bunch of drying herbs. It looks like there are a lot more gaps in those than there should be. It must be difficult finding proper herbs on this world. The crone gestures at a round table. There are a number of stools around it, plain but solidly built, and enough for everyone. Precisely enough, in fact. "Sit, sit." She moves over to another table, or... maybe the oven...? ...and busies herself with something or other. Glass clinks. "She would. She thinks I like her company." She scoffs. "Presumptuous creature. She was probably hoping for scraps from my table once your visit was concluded." She turns, and puts a plate on the table, along with a glass for each and a small, stoppered bottle. A measure of clear liquid is poured into each glass. She very deliberately cuts the bread with a sharp knife, a thick piece of the hearty loaf for each person. Only then does she actually sit. "Humility sits better with these old bones than childish antics," the old woman says to Finna. She lifts her glass, taking a drink. Anyone who guessed 'vodka' for what she poured would be right. "I am from very far away. If you wish to know where, you must do for me a service, like all the others. I will speak on this world I live in, and little else." A little gesture. "Your food is not made with the poisonous Grain that fills the air. My home, it is clean." It certainly doesn't smell the same -- but there's a sort of musky smell instead. It's probably coming from her. "You are my guests." She puts the glass down with a scowl, eyeing the three. "Relax." She seems to take her own advice, at least a little, after that. "It is cursed, yes, and dead besides. An ancient curse... it has polluted this place, and given rise to all manner of mischief and chaos." She waves one hand towards the ceiling. "The beasts who speak like men, they say it is the humans who must go. The toy soldiers made like humans, they say it is the beasts who must be slain. Back and forth, this way and that... fie on them, and their 'war'." Grandmother snorts. "Babel's Tale... poetic, ehn, perhaps, but wasteful all the same. Sacrifices in the name of nothing are /worth/ nothing. Wouldn't you say?" She turns to Inga, staring. "You are a wise one, yes? Speak wisdom." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Riva, raises a brow slightly. She's feeling a bit out of place she thinks. Nervous. Well, she probably should be. They all should be. A glance and a smile toward Finna. She's given her warning. That's all Inga can really do. There's danger here, but opporunity as well. Inga accepts the drink and the bread, thanking Grandmother. She takes a sip of the vodka, recognizing it for what it is only because she's had some schooling in alcoholic beverages since her arrival in the multiverse. Inga looks around the hut, taking note of things. How it is bigger on the inside. That's not completely foreign to her these days, but still a bit unsettling. She does note the herbs present, then reaches into her pouch to pull out a few dried bundles she thinks the wisewoman might find useful. "I hope these will be a useful addition Grandmother," she says, laying them neatly out on the table like an offering. Inga has a bite of her bread too, trusting that it is good. As Grandmother said, is is not made here. That much is plain. Inga frowns thoughtfully then. "A curse. Quite a curse," she comments. She can't imagine the raw power that would be needed to curse an entire world...for it is the whole world, isn't it? When addressed, Inga's lips thin slightly in thought. "I am unfamiliar with this tale of Babel, and as for wisdom, I am not as wise as those who have come before me. But I know, at least, that a sacrifice must have true worth to be a sacrifice. It must have value, or it is no sacrifice at all," she agrees. "You mentioned a service to be done. What could we help you with, Grandmother?" Inga asks. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "mmmmhhhh...." Finna's struggling to show manners. It's not natural to her. She's consistently glancing at the others for leads. But that seems to be enough after a bit. A bit of focus and rapid study of Inga's manners is all it takes. Just a minute of hyper-observation between her and the old woman...     After a deep breath, her whole demeanor seems to slowly drift into a new style. A new calm.     How irritating it is though. IF she's going to be drinking she'd rather it be in a nice big hall that smells familiar, full of rowdy tale-telling and egotistical guys trying to win her favor. Crazy things like that.     This setting is cramped. But... this whole world sucks.     "Sacrifices to gods are meaningless without gods to answer. Sacrificing sweat and toil won't bring anything green from this soil. Fighting over a decaying corpse is a losing battle for everyone.... just what happened here, grandmother?"     How acting this way goes against her grain.     But it is perhaps wiser to not rouse the ire of a strange sorceress with such disturrrrrrrrbing tastes in aesthetics.     When Finna leaves here, she is NOT coming back. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' As much as Riva wants to Google what's up with this, the collective knowledge of Mankind is not available to her. Not since she can't get signal, because she does. It's because it's /impolite/ to use your cellphone at the table, and it's /very clear/ that impolitness is something that is not appreciated by Grandmother. So Riva keeps her hands on the table, her back straight. Something about this makes her feel like she's 10 years old again, sitting at Grandma's table and being really polite at a house that smelled weird. In fact, it's exactly like that. It's both familiar and disturbing. Riva fidgets a little in her chair, and takes the vodka and slice of bread. "Thank you, Grandmother." Riva says, smiling faintly. She takes a drink, blinking in surprise at the vodka, but she doesn't seem to have too much trouble with it. The bread is chewed slowly, but steadily. She's going to clean her plate just like she's supposed to. She does, however, nod in agreement with Inga. "It's true. What can we do for you, Grandmother? If something can make things better for you, we can give you a hand." Just... not literally. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The crone examines the offering critically, and nods. "They will. Thank you, child." She sounds positively, well, grandmotherly, when she says that. She carefully sweeps the offered herbs... somewhere. They end up with the rest. A number of the gaps have been filled, if only a little. She drinks, and pours. It seems like she is intent on making sure the bottle is emptied over the course of this discussion, even if at least Finna is eager to make that as short as possible. "You owe me no service. Those coming to ask for charms, or knowledge... /they/ will serve. There are always tasks to be done, and failure... well." Her eyes trail to the door. The fence of human bones suddenly comes to mind. The old woman smiles, though, and it is not wicked or ugly for a change. "Your generosity towards an old woman is touching. However." She raps a knuckle against the wooden tabletop. "Rules are rules, eh? They will perhaps change for next time you visit. You /will/ come again, I hope." Oh dear. She becomes serious again. The almost friendly demeanor melts off her features. "Babel's Tale is what they call this newest war of theirs. It is as useless as all wars are." She drinks again, her scowl returning. "An argument between petulant children, cast in blood and fire and the tools of the 'civilized' as they remember what it means to be wild. A fable, writ over the rust and dust of a dead world, that none will ever read." "Mankind -- humanity, as you know it -- is all but gone. They have sequestered their survivors in cradles of iron, sealed against the poisonous outside. They do not leave their precious cradles, yet they work, and toil, and make their false children, the toy soldiers: Liners. The Liners leave the cradle..." She walks two fingers across the surface of the table as she speaks, away from her glass, covered with her other hand. "...and find the other legacy of humanity. A-RAYS. Beast-men. Proud warriors, prouder still of their wars without war. The strong survive, and though the Liners live in this poisonous air, oh, they are not truly /strong/, not like they. They take a stone, and --" She lifts her other hand, and slams it onto the table, rattling the glasses. "-- dash the Liners' brains across the ground with it. They are not strong, you see," Grandmother says, eyeing the three, "but they are the /strongest/. Without them, what is left of the humans will surely curl up and die, like wounded animals must." The old woman snorts. She refills her glass. "Surely. That is what humankind has always done. Simply laid down and died. Surely that will work here." She chuckles, unkindly. "I do not need to tell you that it did not, and will not. They made stronger soldiers. Strengthened the mold. Added more of the poison, to make them swllow it down more readily. 'Take your filthy medicine, child,' the men in the cradle say, 'and it will make you big and strong!'" Her scowl deepens. "It did." "They call them the Ether Liners. They face the A-RAYS with sorcery that has not been seen..." She looks suddenly thoughtful, like she's reminiscing. "...for a very, very long time. Weapons that warp time and space. That govern life, or death. They change the world to their wills. And instead of fixing it, what do they do?" She lifts her glass, saluting mockingly. "Pen another line of the Tale in blood, all across the dust. Well done, 'heroes.'" The crone tosses back the liquid without expression. "They are strong, and they are worthless, so long as they fight for the purpose of fighting. They do not make sacrifices to their gods," she tells Finna, "but to the cold, warped altar of /progress/. The A-RAYS treat them like animals that need be culled, but not an infestation to be exterminated, and every generation is stronger than the last. They underestimate their resolve. Yet none, still, will break this curse that holds this world drowning beneath the surface of a sea of corpse-dust." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' With a slow, deliberate motion, she puts the glass back on the tabletop. "The world did not die a good death," the crone says. "A ghost in the shape of a man laid it low with evil power from a contest he did rightly win. And so, it could still be recovered. Clung to, until its proper time. Perhaps. Perhaps..." She sighs. "But I ramble, and carry on. Eat. Drink. Leave when you are finished. Return when you have more questions, and are prepared to work." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva listens to the information given studiously. Her phone is also listening, of course, but Grandmother doesn't need to know that. Over time, the information is given, food is eatenr, drinks are finished, and then they are dismissed. Next time, they will need to be prepared to work. As they leave the bone fence, Riva pulls out her phone and taps at it. There is a moment as she flicks over the lambent light of her display... And her eyes widen. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" She yells, suddenly turning and picking up Inga. "Inga, WE ARE LEAVING NOW. FINNA, MOVE KTHANKSBAI." She immediately begins fireman carrying Inga to the gate at top speed, panicked. Sometimes, even Google doesn't give you nice answers. 
}}

3486/Mother, Maiden, Crone

2015-12-07T07:56:57Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/12/06 |Location=Land of Steel |Synopsis=Visitors to the Land of Steel meet a couple of its stranger denizens. One is much more frightening tha..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/12/06
|Location=Land of Steel
|Synopsis=Visitors to the Land of Steel meet a couple of its stranger denizens. One is much more frightening than the other.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=495, 513, 525, 687
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|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
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{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The Land of Steel is an inhospitable place at the best of times. The dull grey sky is uniform and uninteresting; the ground, cracked, dry and dead, is covered in part by sands of the same color, and broken by human edifice stretched out across the world. There are no plants to be seen, and no birds or beasts cry to fill the skies. It is a place of silence. When the grim reality of it sets in, it is perhaps most important to remember that it is /an/ Earth, but it is not /your/ Earth. But the most chilling thought about it is that perhaps, one day, it /could/ be. Agartha leads to all places, and to all times... The warp gate opens up in the middle of a city. The gate itself stands in what once might have been a park, a large standing ring in the middle of a cluster of five stone rings aligned for each to be smaller than the other. It's some kind of sculpture that has a use. Nearby, what looks like a wooden gazebo stands, but the old, worn-out plastic surface betrays its true nature. Dry stream-beds are scattered around, bridged by the remains of picturesque walkways. Skyscrapers stretch in every direction, towerig monoliths to a seemingly deceased civilization. It's just past sunset, and nothing else in the city is lit up -- except, that is, for a tiny flickering firelight swinging lazily near the far edge of the barren park. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga had been in a trance-state when Riva called. Who could know how long she'd been that way. Hours, maybe a dozen of them. Maybe days. She didn't /think/ days...but she couldn't be sure. Wasn't it Woden's day? Or was it wash day? Either way, she'd run out of roving and her spindle was full with freshly spun yarn. Time to go do something. She'd managed to clean up and put on fresh clothing before Riva showed up, hauled her over her shoulder and promptly taken off. Small blessings? Now, she thinks maybe she should have stayed home. The sense of death--no, not even death, death sounds too active. Decay. The sense of decay is like a slap to the face--or the soul. It is jarring. That bright energy she's accustomed to feeling feels so far away, and what /is/ here feels...rotten somehow. "What is this...?" she asks, turning toward Riva as she tries to straighten her dress and cloak. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' ADVENTURE TIME! Riva does this occasionally. Ususallly, it results in ice cream, clothes shopping, or random cool things. This time, maybe not so much. The arrival in the Land of Steel causes Riva to kind of stop and look around with a frown, clearly unsettled. She sets Inga down so she can settle herself and she folds her arms, looking over the blasted landscape and decrepit archetecture. "This looks like a very bad place." Riva replies. "... But whatever happened here, there's an open Warpgate and that means what happened here can happen elsewhere. We should look around and see if we can find some hints on what's up." She smiles, probably trying to put on a brave face for the much more serious and reserved Inga. "Don't worry about it! I'll watch your back. You're great at finding things out, right? Just head in whatever direction seems right. IT's not like we have any particular plan here..." And then she squints at the firelight and points. "Inga, over there, do you see that fire?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     When Riva steps through the warp gate there is in fact a second ripple! But it's easy to miss, for the fox is colored similar to the flux of the warp gate and takes not another step on her padded feet more than Riva. Their steps are in sync, allowing her to slip around behind the wreckage of a bench and peek around, watching the two girls!     At first the fox's tail was wagging, but after getting a few whiffs of THIS area.... not so much. Her initial playfulness and desire to prank the two has quickly dwindled away. This place.     This palce is AWFUL.     And it gives her the shivers. "Grbrbrrwarb... these two... think there's /adventure/ here?" She hisses under her breath, no longer so sure... 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga leans on her staff, looking around what she now recognizes as a park. Or, what used to be a park, anyway. She looks up at the skyscrapers, frowning deeply. "They loom like the broken skeletons of giants. It is incredibly eery," she says quietly. With a sigh, Inga reaches to her belt, begining to detach the leather bag that holds her runes. "I can read the runes perhaps. I am...not terribly inclined to open my Sight right now," she says. Of course, she might not have a choice. Sometimes the Sight opens her. Something else prickles her senses, so Inga turns to see a fox has followed them. She raises a brow. "Finna? Well, why not," she says, looking back to Riva. Riva mentions a fire. Inga squints, looking in the direction Riva pointed. "Very well, let's investigate. Do you think...people can still live in this place? It feels as though nothing is alive here." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva shudders in response to Inga, nodding. "Yeah, I know... exactly what you mean." That pulse of life, always so close to her... It seems very far away, now. However, Inga notices a tagalong. Riva starts, apparently not having even noticed the fox. "Finna?!" She says in surprise, blinking... And then she sees the fox. "Oh! Hi Finna! Come on over here!" She calls, stooping and holding out her hands. Should Finna approach, Riva will pick up Finna and lavish some attention on her. She's always liked it before! She does, however, nod and agree with Inga. "Life finds a way, doesn't it? I'll take the lead." Riva says, and steps forward, waving with a free hand. "Hey you guyyyyyyyyyyys!" Riva calls to the fire. "What's goin on in this thread?" Surely this won't go horribly at all. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The dread that comes with stepping onto a dead world is understandable. To those sensitive to the pulse of Gaia, the /lack/ is a silence that is almost deafening in its intensity. Beyond the brief breeze from the gate's opening and closing, there isn't even a breeze. The lack of a scent of decay, or of anything but dust, is unnerving to those who rely on more than sight. Shouldn't something this dead reek, even to the mundane? Riva calls out. The firelight in the distance... sways, and then moves. It seems to approach. It isn't a campfire, or anything of the sort; it looks like a little ball, swinging gently back and forth in the dark. It's low to the ground, coming across the bridges. Then... it winks out, gone entirely, as if it had never been. The darkness closes in again. A tense few moments pass. A little bit of light appears above the heads of the would-be adventurers. A tiny ball of fire flicks this way and that, directed by a dark shape sitting on the outermost ring of the sculpture the warp gate is part of. The shape opens its eyes, looking down lazily while its tail thrashes. The ball of firelight seems to be following the tip of the tail. It's... a house-cat? Here? "Travellers from outside the Land of Steel," the Black Cat purrs. "From whence do you hail? Or, more importantly... whom do you serve?" The cat is outside Riva's immediate reach, and for something so small, it's giving you an awfully predatory vibe. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna whiiiiines in protest. A squeaky, hacky noise. She even SNEEZES on the way to Riva... and seems all to willing to dive in for some good pettings! It ends with her CURLING AROUND the back of Riva's neck under the ponytail and leaning slightly forward.... like some weird, living neck-warmer. Finna's shivering a little. Childishly. "You weren't supposed to spot me so soon! This place suuuuuuucks, why'd you co--"     FWOOOOOOSH.     She's down on the ground INSTANTLY, on all fours. Her body's pointed like an arrow, ready to bolt in any possible direction.. and ears up and alert. The body language is clear.     The verge of fight or flight.     Oh no, she does not like this cat's sudden appearance. It snuck up on HER. That's impressive.     "It is usually polite to introduce oneself before asking such things." She exclaims cautiously. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga heads toward the fire with Riva and Finna, her eyes still roaming, senses reeling from the downright /wrong/ feeling of the energy in this place. "What has become of this land? Is the whole world like this?" she asks aloud. She could find out, perhaps, by letting down her defenses and ushering in the potential of at least temporary madness. It was something terrible, that is for certain. Inga looks to Riva, tilting her head slightly. Thread? "In this thread, I am afraid to look at the threads present to me at the moment," she says, obviously misunderstanding. As they approach the fire, Inga looks for life. She's leave the calling out to the rambunctious Riva. The fire is no campfire, but something else. A spell? A creature of flame? When they are plunged into darkness, Inga keeps her cool, breathing, preparing to let down her guard and open her magic sight... Then, a cat. Inga turns, blinking. A talking cat. It isn't as though she hadn't seen stranger things, there's a talking fox /right there/. Inga bows her head to the cat respectfully in greeting. "Greetings," she says, pleased with this turn of events. Cats like her. She is most certainly a cat person. Chosen of Freyja after all. "We are from many places and times. I serve the gods. I am Inga, chosen of Freyja--chosen of Gaia," she replies. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva gives Finna some happy foxpets and everyone is happy, The Cuteness level may abate the inherent creepiness for a short moment. ... Okay, not that long. Damn. This place is messed up. With a foxwarmer around her neck, Riva discovers a cat, and... It talks. Riva is brought up short, her initial impulses to treat it like a normal kitty overrun by the intense feeling this being exudes. Well, and that it's talking. It doesn't sound like it particularly wants or needs snuggles. "Oh, so this is the Land of Steel? Well, um. I'm Riva Banari. We're from another world, and uh... I work for the Bees, the Knights Templar, Heaven or Hell, and the Union, in no particular order." She shrugs. She sees no point in lying right now, despite Finna being on super suspicious time. "So what's your name, pretty kitty?" Despite this, Riva regains an attempt at a minor charm offensive. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The cat turns her eyes to Finna, fixing the Lunar with a feline stare. Don't cats usually stare at things they're hunting? That can't be comfortable. "It is usually polite for beasts who barge into another's territory to leave a gift," she says, "and to be less mouthy." In a manner only cats can, the one on the stone ring goes from intense staring to mellow lounging like a switch was flicked. The cat flicks its ears, and twitches its tail. "You have picked a poor time to be chosen by Gaia, little ones, who smells so sweet." She's apparently addressing both Riva and Inga. "But these names... I know some of them. 'Union'..." The cat says it like it was tasting it. She looks down through sleepy eyes. "You may call me Archer of Green, sweetlings." The intonation is all wrong for it to be a deliberate choice of word. "My Master's ally has been working to secure the aid of the Union, so it would be remiss of me to allow you to go on without a proper warning." The black cat's tail twitches. The ball of firelight swings up and points towards the path like an arrow. "That way lies danger, little ones," Archer of Green says. "But perhaps a sort of danger that can provide answers to your questions. There is no reward without an element of risk, yes?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     The fox frowns. Then answers the return with a grin. "Well, then. That makes us even. Finna Snowdancer, Chosen of Luna and ally of the Union."     She's rather unsettled by this cat's choice of words and tone... but manages to hide it. With a few seconds of shifting flesh and fur, she raises up in full human form with tattoos, tell, and glimmering Caste Mark on full display, though the latter gleams only just enough to be noticed. Ends up on a rather sly expression too.     "A Servant, I see. We ran into quite a greeting party." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods, folding her hands atop her staff. "It was not out decision to be chosen. Matters not, our Gaia is...different," Inga answers. Is this yet another midgard? "It is a pleasure to meet you, Archer of Green. I am also of the Union. Someone has come before us then?" she asks. A warning is then given. Inga's lips dip into a frown, looking down the path. Her pupils widen as she lets down her guard, opening herself to the Sight. She searches for a likely thread, prepared to sort through the strands of fate to find the most likely occurance... 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The way the cat says 'sweetling' causes Riva to shudder. She is currently experiencing 2 stacks of SPOOKED OUT, resulting in an estimation of P. SPOOKY. "I'm sorry, um, Archer of Green. I didn't expect to find a Servant here. Um.... What would be an appropriate gift for you? You don't seem like you'd be satisfied with catnip..." She pauses, and then nods. "Thank you for the warning, too. Danger, but maybe some kind of danger that can provide answers. Got it." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "How interesting," the black cat says in Finna's direction, with the kind of tone that says it really isn't. She might still be miffed about the politeness jab. Cats can be kind of... catty. Inga gets a more direct answer. "The Union has not come to this gate before, no. To our world? Well, of course. Ever since the Liners went out into the greater Multiverse, things have become more... complicated." "Mmmm... food from somewhere else," Archer of Green replies, watching Riva sort of out of the corner of her eye. "Something that doesn't taste of this dirty Grain." The cat sort of yawns. "I'm sure you can think of something else, though. Consider it when you return this way, hmm?" Inga's vision is... strange. It's not so much that it's difficult to find a certain thread as it is difficult to find a thread /at all/. There is nothing that lives here that they did not bring with them, at least not within sight of her. Things came to the ends of their threads a long, long time ago. Though, there is /one/ thing... Inga sees something superimposed on the darkness, as clear a vision as she's able to get: a cottage, resting within a yard of dead or dying plants. Kneeling in front of a flowerbed is an indistinct woman, trying to coax life out of the long-dead soil. The plants immediately in front of her look healthier than the specimens around, but Inga can see the life flowing out of them. She gets the impression this is the present, not the past or the future. She's seeing what's directly down that path. The thread is strong enough to follow without missing where it's going. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga stands very still, staring down the way the cat indicated, a look of concentration touched with confusion on her face. "Strange, they are all so old, so faded...all go backward....no. Wait. There is one," she says quietly, brow furrowed. "Yes...we could follow this." Inga closes her eyes, taking a few breaths in and out...then she turns back to the others, reaching into her pouch. She digs for a bit, then finally brings out what appears to be a piece of meat. It's probably goat. "A gift," she says, offering it to Archer of Green. "There is someone that way...could be fruitful. I can try to give us wards," she offers. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Dirty's such a strange word to use in combination with Grain." Finna exclaims. "This Grain though.... I can feel it crawling up my SOUL!" Can she really? Well. Maybe sorta kinda.     And that's enough to garner some sympathy from the fox. She digs around, pulls a leather draw-string bag out of seemingly NOWHERE... dangles and swings it back and forth a little... then gently tosses it Archer's way!     It's full of some dried but fairly tasty meats, and a few odd snacks from various stores across the Multiverse.     "Lead on, Inga! Anywhere is... better than this." Or at least, Finna suspects anywhere else couldn't be WORSE than this hellhole...     "This place gives me the willies. WILLIES. The UNDERWORLD has more life in it than this." ... Kind of. Maybe. Sorta. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva nods to the cat Servant. "Allright, Archer. No problem! I'll make sure to bring you something good next time!" She winks and gives a thumbsup, still bravely trying to work through the despair and unnatural environment that seems to seethe from this place. Though at this point, she turns to look to Inga, and frowns. "You see a path, Inga? All right. Let's head that way, but, um... Let's be careful. This place feels really messed up, and I get the feeling this isn't going to be so simple... If you wanna ward, go for it." She nods to the wisewoman. SHE'S CALLED WISE FOR A REASON. She does, however, reach out and give Finna a comforting scritch. They can be all creeped out together, it seems. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "Mmm-hmmm." You'd better remember, Riva. Archer of Green rouses. She stretches at length. Then, she jumps off the stone edifice and onto the wisewoman's shoulder, landing with a light touch and taking the offered morsel out of her hand. Finna's belated offering gets a little tailflick; the fire dims, and the bag just happens to land with the cord looped around her tail. The black cat jumps to the ground strewn with steel sand, and, without further commentary, saunters off into the darkness. The little ball of fire drifts to the ground near Inga's feet, and puffs out with a little flare. The darkness settles in again. The cat is gone. There is one benefit to such a dead world and a clear sky: starlight and moonlight illuminate the way. If there is one thing to be taken as a comfort, it's the moon, shining as it ever has. Inga's Sight leads them along the path, over the footbridges and through what must have once been a copse of trees, towards the mental image of a cottage in this dead and desolate place. They pass abandoned food stands and a low building that looks like it might have once been a bathroom, and around the corner... ...is, well, a cottage. The building is a little oddly-shaped, but it's hard to see why in the darkness. The peaked roof stands out; so does some kind of extra bit sticking out the front of it, making a vaguely triangular awning. It stands on short and thick irregularly-placed stilts, with steps leading onto the porch. An old lantern hangs on a hook, casting light downward from the wooden porch over what looks like flowerbeds. The beds themselves are set-up along the interior perimeter of a rickety, uneven fence that surrounds the yard. Kneeling at one of the beds is an old woman in patched and ragged clothes that have clearly seen better days. Her dress is deep but faded blue with a dark red stripe up the middle. Her pink sleeves, even rolled up, are still patched nearly as much as the front of her dress. Her hair is stringy and white, and falls down around her face while she remains hunched over the barren beds of turned earth. "Terrible, just terrible," she mutters to herself, clearly irritated. "This wretched place, where nothing grows..." A few plants are clearly withered in front of her, but everything else is just that same grey sand. "A proper garden is going to be /impossible/ to cultivate again...!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The wisewoman isn't sure how well this will work, but she's willing to give it a try. Inga draws her knife and slits into her inner arm, drawing upon her anima.... except that what she usually draws from is very, very far away. It is accessible, but it would take too long to draw from it. There is an energy around them, she'd been feeling it...but it is like the sweet honey of the usual anima has turned to ashes. It is rotted. But could she still use it? "Nnnn..." she groans, drawing on the energy of what the cat calls Grain. Inga turns a very interesting shade of pale green, smearing herself, Riva and Finna with the blood in a quick rune, whispering the words of her ward. She then promptly turns to the side and loses her lunch. Once that has been taken care of, Inga reaches for a flask. It is filled with whiskey. She takes a generous drink, shuddering. "The anima in this place....it is vile," she breathes. The cat jumps onto her shoulder, luckily not knocking her over in the process. She gives the scrap of goat meat to her, watching the cat stalk off. Their light disappears as well, naturally. Still, the moon is bright above them. Their eyes will adjust. Inga begins forward, leaning on her staff as she follows the path she knows now is there. Around the corner is the cottage, standing out like, well, a cottage in the middle of a city of steel and glass. Inga approaches, stoppping an acceptable distance away before hailing the woman there. There's something uncanny going on. She's sure of it. This is entirely out of place from what they've seen so far. "Hail," she calls. She bows some if the woman turns at her greeting. "No, the soil here appears to be very poor. The earth is dead. I have dried herbs to offer if you have need. I am Inga. This is Riva and Finna....we're travelers," she explains, watching the older woman, glancing now and then to her cottage and failing garden. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva blinks at the reaction when Inga draws upon the native energy of the place ."Eeeeeeeew." She sums it up. However, she accepts the ward. She sure as hell isn't going to quibble after Inga went through that for it. Riva follows Inga's nose (or Sight, as it were) to the cottage, where she sees cottage and a woman in the area in an unusual location. Oh well, there's weirder things here, right? With a wave, Riva greets the woman. "Hello, ma'am." She says politely. "Nice to meet you!" This feels like an Inga thing. Riva was never all that good at gardening. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna ends up scritched! While in human form. This gets a much more vivid reaction from her than she wants people to see. A pleased, dopey look is teased out of her. Only for... only for her to shiver and batter away at the hand with a fluttering motion of her own. "Gah-yah-yah what are you doing!"     Well.     There's one weakness revealed.     Embarassingly so. Finna starts blushing so hard that she shifts swiftly back to fox form. Foxes don't blush. Remarkably, the blood ward remains through the shapeshifting, though is hard to see through the fur.     In fox form she slowly paces up to the old woman. "You're brave, old woman. But the earth here has no blessings to yield, does it? Why spend your life so far out in the middle of nowhere, alone? My people would weep seeing anyone living this way..." 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "Yes, yes," the old woman says, waving a gnarled old hand in Inga's direction without looking up. "But even dead things have their uses." She traces a circle in the turned soil with a fingertip, muttering something that sounds like a kind of gutteral coughing noise. The withered little plant seems to gain a little of its color, slowly straightening, starting to stand tall... ...and then it wilts again. It withers in fast-forward, shivering and drying up. Flakes of it break off and drift to the ground, grey like the sandy earth. "Bah!" The crone starts to stand. She snatches up what looks like a thick walking stick next to her, using it to get to her feet with some effort. She turns to the trio, fixing suspicious eyes on them over a hooked nose. "You must have travelled far to carry with you herbs of any sort," she observes. "I know of only a few who could make this worthless poison," she spits, "yield anything of /use/. At least," she sighs, "in the /old/ ways." Her lip curls into a smile. "Such polite travellers. For the most part, that is." She lifts her smooth stick, pointing the bottom at Finna and staggering towards them. It looks like it's wider at the top and the bottom, and narrows somewhere just beneath the top of it. Odd. Her expression sours. "Why indeed? Your people would have stories about folk such as I, living in places such as this. The deep forests do not /exist/, child. Where else would one such as myself live, if not among the towering trunks of the old and dead?" She stops on the far side of the rickety, uneven fence, just on the other side of the gate. The old woman eyes the trio. "You may call me 'grandmother,' if it pleases you. Why have you come here? Merely to mock an old woman?" She glares daggers at the Lunar. When she looks at Riva and Inga, at least, she seems... a little bit more pleasant. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods to the old woman, smiling slight at her comment about dead things. "Yes, that is quite true," she replies, watching the woman...the...entity, perform a spell. A twinge of excitement plucks at her heart. "The bones of a sacrificed man make a good talisman against famine, the blood of a sacrificed king even better...It is said if you sit on a grave mound through the night near the winter solstice will tell you all about the year to come," she says, leaning on her own staff. Inga isn't an old woman, but she needs the staff all the same. She suspects this is someone whom she might just have a few things in common with. But caution is called for, because she is generally not an idiot. "We have come very far indeed, grandmother," she answers. "I would be willing to share what herbs I have grown and harvested. A gift. We hope to find out more about what has happened in this place," Inga continues, remaining respectful. Careful. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva continues to take this with a soft touch. After the black cat that was also a Servant, this person, well... Seems strange. Inga also immediately takes to her, which gives her more hints on what's going on here. A fellow wise woman? Maybe. Or something else entirely. Riva nods and bows to the ages woman. "Thank you, grandmother. No, we're not here to mock you. We're here to, um, explore. We're not from this world." Riva points out. "As Inga said, we're trying to learn what happened to this place. It looks pretty extensive." Yeah, way to understate, Riva. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Oh yes. Finna's people have some stories about strange people hiding in the boonies.     Rarely good ones.     "They do not." Speaks the fox. "For the ice and the snow claims the elderly who stand alone. To be without one's family and people in their elder years... that's embracing death with open arms, it is." Her words are delivered in a sad, morose tone.     Finna would frown, were she in human form. That problem is solved in no time at all though. She shifts back after hopping backwards. She's not keen on being so much SMALLER than this woman when she's clearly capable of sorcery. So she is left frowning pretty clearly.     "Finna Snowdancer of Luna's Chosen." The frown's wiped away in a hurry, exchanged for a rather genuine display of youthful, charming rascally-ness. There's warm affection and respect in her eyes, smile, and tone. Just... not her phrasing.     "There are greener pastures I could introduce you to!"     But her tail isn't wagging. As genuine as her words are, she's WARY of this woman... 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "A king? Ha. There is little enough order in this place for there to be kings. No one has the ability, and certainly not the will." She plants the end of her stick on the ground in front of her and leans on the end, her hands folded. "It would take a much greater sacrifice than blood and bones to make these lands green again. Hard work. Discipline. Sacrifice..." A look of intensity crosses her lined face. "...and the willingness to pay whatever price there may be." She switches subjects, the intense look fading. She considers Inga for a moment. "If a cat washes its face, one can expect guests soon. As it happens, the only cat I know of did that very thing mere minutes ago. I suspect it was having a laugh at my expense." Her tone of voice makes it clear what she thinks about /that/. It isn't anything good. Grandmother turns to Finna. "I do not fear the cold. I have no need of family, and my 'people' have been dead for the span of an age." She scowls, but not necessarily at Finna. "This is my home. If it wishes to come for me, death will have to pass through the gate like anyone else. It is here I will stay." She lifts her staff, and pounds the end against the dry earth with a heavy 'thump.' A ripple of dark blue spreads out from the bottom of the staff. It rolls across the interior of the yard and strikes the perimeter fence, lighting it up with sparks of flashes of amber light like momentary fireflies. Motes of it scatter, the reacting Grain casting odd light across the front of the cottage. The triangular portrusion is no simple overhang, but an old and scratched beak. The stilts are not stilts at all, but the legs of a chicken, bent low with its feet planted firmly. The fence is not rickety at all. It stands strong, and gleams white -- the white of clean bones, standing like fused spears all around the yard. A greatsword made of too-white, too-luminescent bone flickers and hisses with amber sparks, the weapon worked into the grotesque gate of human (and... not quite not-human) bones. Another, similar display is coming from the fence that runs along one side of the house, but it's difficult to pick out the shape among the rest of the patchwork barrier. The gate swings open noiselessly, admitting the trio. The hunched crone turns, starting back towards her chicken-legged hut. "Come. There is bread, and drink. I will not speak of ancient matters on my step, gift or no. Far be it from me to ignore portents and turn away guests." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "No...not this land. This land would take much more," she replies, frowning gently. But the woman seems to understand. Inga is sure she is on the right track. She is sure they are dealing with a wisewoman, and one of considerable power. This is only reinforced by her next actions. Inga's eyes widen a bit, a smile unable not to appear as she sees a bone fence surrounding the strange cottage...a hut with chicken legs and a beak? How strange! Strange, but powerful magic. Then, there is a brief moment of unadultered glee. She gazes as the bone fence as one would gaze at work of art. For that is what it is. "Ooh...your bone fence. It is impeccable," she compliments. She swallows, regaining her cool, nodding to Grandmother. "We thank you for your hospitality grandmother," she says, then follows the old woman inside, where she would begin to produce her gifts of herbs. She has some goodies. Henbane, deadly nightshade, mugwort, mandrake root...it's all dried and tied up neat, fresh from her garden and harvested during the correct moon phase. If a seat is offered, she takes one. "We did meet the cat, Archer of Green. She pointed us in your direction," Inga confirms. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva does not jump in on the intense subject of the land recovering being discussed. This seems to be a conversation between the old woman and Inga, something passing between them and she doesn't understand. She really needs more dots in Occult. "The cat does seem to be pretty cat-like." Riva shrugs, offering a response kind of lamely. When the staff strikes down, lighting things up, Riva blinks and gapes at the realization that she's looking at a bone fence, like Inga's, but... moreso. The strange greatsword catches Riva's eyes and makes her shift nervously. Something about it makes her uncomfotable... Both protection and warning, it seems. More importantly, the sight of that cottage. Something stirs in the back of Riva's mind, but... What? She works her jaw for a moment, a memory on the edge of recollection, but it slips away. That's important. There is an invitation, however, and Riva isn't going to slight her by turning it down. That would be rude. And it's /very clear/ what the grandmother thinks of rudeness. Riva walks in, deferring to Inga and letting her take the lead on things. She has a feeling this is going to be something Inga and Finna are going to be better at handling. Well, maybe Inga, anyway. Poor Finna. Riva sits down after Inga does if seats are available. Otherwise she stands nearby. It seems safer to her to make it appear that Riva is Inga's attendant in some manner. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Really? SHOCK breaks Finna's typically rascally demeanor. Her eyes go wide. "... My apologies, grandmother. Though I should have guessed from before. Nobody who needs food or water can survive out here." She does indeed sound genuinely sympathetic to be facing someone who's lost everything at least!     Though flickers of fear flash in her eyes with every show of Great Magics. Particularly for what it reveals. The fur of her tail stands out straight and she actually starts taking a few steps backwards. Struggling to not start hissing and panicking.     Particularly when she starts offering food and drink. ALARM BELLS TIME.     "This land isn't merely dead. It's cursed. The Grain is like sandpaper on my soul. A poison that's found everywhere. ... I hate to say it, but most people would be better served leaving through the warp gates..."     Nevertheless, offered hospitality, and in the face of such sorcery, she does bow her head gratefully at the old woman. "Now I regret giving all I came with to the cat. From where do you come, Grandmother?" She walks in, but is remaining on guard. And definitely uncertainw hether it's actually safe to eat the food here... 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' "It takes wisdom to recognize that," the old woman says, a little mollified. It /is/ a nice fence. The interior of the hut is... well, it's probably bigger on the inside than the outside, anyway. It's difficult to tell -- the oddness that is the huge iron oven that seems to wrap around the interior, covering a single wall and all three others simultaneously, definitely throws off estimations of space. Still, shelves are ever-present, full of bottles, jars, trinkets and sundries, plus the occasional bunch of drying herbs. It looks like there are a lot more gaps in those than there should be. It must be difficult finding proper herbs on this world. The crone gestures at a round table. There are a number of stools around it, plain but solidly built, and enough for everyone. Precisely enough, in fact. "Sit, sit." She moves over to another table, or... maybe the oven...? ...and busies herself with something or other. Glass clinks. "She would. She thinks I like her company." She scoffs. "Presumptuous creature. She was probably hoping for scraps from my table once your visit was concluded." She turns, and puts a plate on the table, along with a glass for each and a small, stoppered bottle. A measure of clear liquid is poured into each glass. She very deliberately cuts the bread with a sharp knife, a thick piece of the hearty loaf for each person. Only then does she actually sit. "Humility sits better with these old bones than childish antics," the old woman says to Finna. She lifts her glass, taking a drink. Anyone who guessed 'vodka' for what she poured would be right. "I am from very far away. If you wish to know where, you must do for me a service, like all the others. I will speak on this world I live in, and little else." A little gesture. "Your food is not made with the poisonous Grain that fills the air. My home, it is clean." It certainly doesn't smell the same -- but there's a sort of musky smell instead. It's probably coming from her. "You are my guests." She puts the glass down with a scowl, eyeing the three. "Relax." She seems to take her own advice, at least a little, after that. "It is cursed, yes, and dead besides. An ancient curse... it has polluted this place, and given rise to all manner of mischief and chaos." She waves one hand towards the ceiling. "The beasts who speak like men, they say it is the humans who must go. The toy soldiers made like humans, they say it is the beasts who must be slain. Back and forth, this way and that... fie on them, and their 'war'." Grandmother snorts. "Babel's Tale... poetic, ehn, perhaps, but wasteful all the same. Sacrifices in the name of nothing are /worth/ nothing. Wouldn't you say?" She turns to Inga, staring. "You are a wise one, yes? Speak wisdom." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Riva, raises a brow slightly. She's feeling a bit out of place she thinks. Nervous. Well, she probably should be. They all should be. A glance and a smile toward Finna. She's given her warning. That's all Inga can really do. There's danger here, but opporunity as well. Inga accepts the drink and the bread, thanking Grandmother. She takes a sip of the vodka, recognizing it for what it is only because she's had some schooling in alcoholic beverages since her arrival in the multiverse. Inga looks around the hut, taking note of things. How it is bigger on the inside. That's not completely foreign to her these days, but still a bit unsettling. She does note the herbs present, then reaches into her pouch to pull out a few dried bundles she thinks the wisewoman might find useful. "I hope these will be a useful addition Grandmother," she says, laying them neatly out on the table like an offering. Inga has a bite of her bread too, trusting that it is good. As Grandmother said, is is not made here. That much is plain. Inga frowns thoughtfully then. "A curse. Quite a curse," she comments. She can't imagine the raw power that would be needed to curse an entire world...for it is the whole world, isn't it? When addressed, Inga's lips thin slightly in thought. "I am unfamiliar with this tale of Babel, and as for wisdom, I am not as wise as those who have come before me. But I know, at least, that a sacrifice must have true worth to be a sacrifice. It must have value, or it is no sacrifice at all," she agrees. "You mentioned a service to be done. What could we help you with, Grandmother?" Inga asks. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "mmmmhhhh...." Finna's struggling to show manners. It's not natural to her. She's consistently glancing at the others for leads. But that seems to be enough after a bit. A bit of focus and rapid study of Inga's manners is all it takes. Just a minute of hyper-observation between her and the old woman...     After a deep breath, her whole demeanor seems to slowly drift into a new style. A new calm.     How irritating it is though. IF she's going to be drinking she'd rather it be in a nice big hall that smells familiar, full of rowdy tale-telling and egotistical guys trying to win her favor. Crazy things like that.     This setting is cramped. But... this whole world sucks.     "Sacrifices to gods are meaningless without gods to answer. Sacrificing sweat and toil won't bring anything green from this soil. Fighting over a decaying corpse is a losing battle for everyone.... just what happened here, grandmother?"     How acting this way goes against her grain.     But it is perhaps wiser to not rouse the ire of a strange sorceress with such disturrrrrrrrbing tastes in aesthetics.     When Finna leaves here, she is NOT coming back. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' As much as Riva wants to Google what's up with this, the collective knowledge of Mankind is not available to her. Not since she can't get signal, because she does. It's because it's /impolite/ to use your cellphone at the table, and it's /very clear/ that impolitness is something that is not appreciated by Grandmother. So Riva keeps her hands on the table, her back straight. Something about this makes her feel like she's 10 years old again, sitting at Grandma's table and being really polite at a house that smelled weird. In fact, it's exactly like that. It's both familiar and disturbing. Riva fidgets a little in her chair, and takes the vodka and slice of bread. "Thank you, Grandmother." Riva says, smiling faintly. She takes a drink, blinking in surprise at the vodka, but she doesn't seem to have too much trouble with it. The bread is chewed slowly, but steadily. She's going to clean her plate just like she's supposed to. She does, however, nod in agreement with Inga. "It's true. What can we do for you, Grandmother? If something can make things better for you, we can give you a hand." Just... not literally. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' The crone examines the offering critically, and nods. "They will. Thank you, child." She sounds positively, well, grandmotherly, when she says that. She carefully sweeps the offered herbs... somewhere. They end up with the rest. A number of the gaps have been filled, if only a little. She drinks, and pours. It seems like she is intent on making sure the bottle is emptied over the course of this discussion, even if at least Finna is eager to make that as short as possible. "You owe me no service. Those coming to ask for charms, or knowledge... /they/ will serve. There are always tasks to be done, and failure... well." Her eyes trail to the door. The fence of human bones suddenly comes to mind. The old woman smiles, though, and it is not wicked or ugly for a change. "Your generosity towards an old woman is touching. However." She raps a knuckle against the wooden tabletop. "Rules are rules, eh? They will perhaps change for next time you visit. You /will/ come again, I hope." Oh dear. She becomes serious again. The almost friendly demeanor melts off her features. "Babel's Tale is what they call this newest war of theirs. It is as useless as all wars are." She drinks again, her scowl returning. "An argument between petulant children, cast in blood and fire and the tools of the 'civilized' as they remember what it means to be wild. A fable, writ over the rust and dust of a dead world, that none will ever read." "Mankind -- humanity, as you know it -- is all but gone. They have sequestered their survivors in cradles of iron, sealed against the poisonous outside. They do not leave their precious cradles, yet they work, and toil, and make their false children, the toy soldiers: Liners. The Liners leave the cradle..." She walks two fingers across the surface of the table as she speaks, away from her glass, covered with her other hand. "...and find the other legacy of humanity. A-RAYS. Beast-men. Proud warriors, prouder still of their wars without war. The strong survive, and though the Liners live in this poisonous air, oh, they are not truly /strong/, not like they. They take a stone, and --" She lifts her other hand, and slams it onto the table, rattling the glasses. "-- dash the Liners' brains across the ground with it. They are not strong, you see," Grandmother says, eyeing the three, "but they are the /strongest/. Without them, what is left of the humans will surely curl up and die, like wounded animals must." The old woman snorts. She refills her glass. "Surely. That is what humankind has always done. Simply laid down and died. Surely that will work here." She chuckles, unkindly. "I do not need to tell you that it did not, and will not. They made stronger soldiers. Strengthened the mold. Added more of the poison, to make them swllow it down more readily. 'Take your filthy medicine, child,' the men in the cradle say, 'and it will make you big and strong!'" Her scowl deepens. "It did." "They call them the Ether Liners. They face the A-RAYS with sorcery that has not been seen..." She looks suddenly thoughtful, like she's reminiscing. "...for a very, very long time. Weapons that warp time and space. That govern life, or death. They change the world to their wills. And instead of fixing it, what do they do?" She lifts her glass, saluting mockingly. "Pen another line of the Tale in blood, all across the dust. Well done, 'heroes.'" The crone tosses back the liquid without expression. "They are strong, and they are worthless, so long as they fight for the purpose of fighting. They do not make sacrifices to their gods," she tells Finna, "but to the cold, warped altar of /progress/. The A-RAYS treat them like animals that need be culled, but not an infestation to be exterminated, and every generation is stronger than the last. They underestimate their resolve. Yet none, still, will break this curse that holds this world drowning beneath the surface of a sea of corpse-dust." With a slow, deliberate motion, she puts the glass back on the tabletop. "The world did not die a good death," the crone sa 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' With a slow, deliberate motion, she puts the glass back on the tabletop. "The world did not die a good death," the crone says. "A ghost in the shape of a man laid it low with evil power from a contest he did rightly win. And so, it could still be recovered. Clung to, until its proper time. Perhaps. Perhaps..." She sighs. "But I ramble, and carry on. Eat. Drink. Leave when you are finished. Return when you have more questions, and are prepared to work." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva listens to the information given studiously. Her phone is also listening, of course, but Grandmother doesn't need to know that. Over time, the information is given, food is eatenr, drinks are finished, and then they are dismissed. Next time, they will need to be prepared to work. As they leave the bone fence, Riva pulls out her phone and taps at it. There is a moment as she flicks over the lambent light of her display... And her eyes widen. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" She yells, suddenly turning and picking up Inga. "Inga, WE ARE LEAVING NOW. FINNA, MOVE KTHANKSBAI." She immediately begins fireman carrying Inga to the gate at top speed, panicked. Sometimes, even Google doesn't give you nice answers. 

}}

3475/After Count

2015-12-03T06:16:24Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/12/03 |Location=Land of Steel |Synopsis=An A-RAY named Akkinas offers pay for locating and securing ancient texts in a ruin plagued by a parti..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/12/03
|Location=Land of Steel
|Synopsis=An A-RAY named Akkinas offers pay for locating and securing ancient texts in a ruin plagued by a particular kind of monster: a Servant, unconnected to the war of Babel's Tale!
|Thanks=Thanks to Fake Avenger for co-GMing this with me!
|Cast of Characters=7, 42, 518, 527, 533, 560, 571, 598, 662, 687, 756, 821, 880, 908, 915
|Tinyplot=Welcome to the Land of Steel
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' A job went out through Syndicate channels (and was thusly propagated to the superfactions) a few days ago: a rather straightforward exploration and retrieval mission, if a dangerous one. A man known as 'Akkinas,' a native of the world the job is taking place on, has said he's willing to pay for strong scavengers to go into potentially-dangerous territory and retrieve for him any surviving texts that might be left therein. Payment is in cash, with the additional payment of a single answer to a question posed to him for each participant (which seems to be worth a fair amount, by his reckoning) and the equipment they need to survive in this place at all. The fact that special equipment is necessary to /come/ here is perhaps telling. The warp-gate address to the Land of Steel opens to a subway platform. It's old and unused, with cracked pillars supporting the chamber ceiling. The track is some kind of monorail design, but the tunnel is sealed on either side with what looks like blast doors that have been sealed by either age or intent. The gate itself is a ring of hand-cut stone set into a dug-out hole in the chamber wall. The only other way out of here is through a wide staircase leading up to the surface. Several things stand out the moment anyone comes through the gate. The first and most obvious is the circle. A thin blue glowing line is visible on the floor of the platform. It's big, encompassing most of it, and forms a perfect circle that intersects with the wall the warp-gate is set into. The line goes up the wall, over the top of the gate, and down again. Flickers of some kind of yellowish, orangeish light flashes like fireflies intermittently in the air around what is clearly some kind of bubble. The magically-inclined can tell it's some form of magic circle, and that it's preventing any form of magical energy from actually crossing it. In the middle of the circle is a metal table made of what looks like joined pieces of scrap. On top of it is a number of rebreathers and unmarked pill-bottles containing vivid red tablets. They're laid out neatly, and there's enough for everyone. In the midst of it all is a delicate-looking porcelain doll dressed in a ragged, filthy dress. Its hair is stringy and blonde, and its eyes glow with the same color as the circle. It gives off a faintly unsettling aura if you look at it too closely. Is it looking back? It's hard to say... The last but certainly not the least of the things immediately visible is the figure on the platform. It's tall but hunched, thin and mostly humanoid, with some kind of cloak (or wings?) wrapped around its body. The figure is clad in dirty cloth wrappings, and its hands and feet aren't quite the right shape: they're too long, like talons or claws. It wears a birdlike mask, easily identifiable as being in the old style of a plague doctor's, and it waits patiently. The Union members who pay attention to older reports might recognize him from the description in the last report to come to this place. "The scavengers I seek, you must be," he says. He cants his head in a birdlike fashion, and then inclines his narrow body in a jerky bow. "I am Akkinas. I know much, and seek more." Akkinas straightens suddenly. "On the table in front of you, you will find equipment and medicine for human survival here in this Land of Steel. The object in the middle of the table," the doll twitches minutely, maybe; it's really hard to tell, "is preventing the Grain from saturating the space you stand. It will not last for very long." "The place you will be going is nearby," he continues, "but, ah, it is dangerous, too dangerous for Akkinas, who speaks instead of fights. There are machines, and worse, waiting in the ruins..." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren steps out of the warpgate. He's already wearing environmentally-sealed, strength-enhancing armor. He stops to look at the line, the wall of magic, curiously. While he has equipment that can detect the presense and rough power of magic, he knows little about the inner workings -- it doesn't help that the Multiverse is full of endless kinds of magic. Then he turn and scrutinizes the equipment on the table. And then he looks up at the cloaked figure.     "'Scavengers', huh. I wonder what that means, to you." Then he waves a hand as if to dismiss that issue. "Anyway. Sounds like just the sort of thing you want people for us for, but first, quickly before this magic fades: What do the pills do?" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     The wastelands here bring a grim reminder to Alexis of how it must've been, just thirty years prior in her world...a world were nuclear strikes had ravaged parts of the world to degrees that made Chernobyl look like a small bonfire gone wrong. She's arrived sealed up in her STALKER suit, naturally, with the EM-GASH coilgun slung at her side, and a ten gauge shotgun acquired from an Imperium armory a while back is slung on her back, along with her more advanced armaments. Around her neck is a shmegh, and exposed bits of machinery have cloth wrappings to prevent dust and debris from gumming up the motors in her suit.     Her helmet unfolds briefly, only for face-to-mask contact, and she takes a bottle. Opening it up, she pops a pill before she stores the container, and her helmet re-seals itself with a blurr of mechanical parts. "Appreciate the added protection. Mind if I hold onto these meds just in case?" She also nabs a rebrether, and if allowed will store it in her matter-manipulator for later. Kaz might appreciate a free gas mask for this, just to be safe.     "Rogue AI or just robots that someone programmed as watchdogs?" Alexis asks curiously, her voice filtered through the helmet once more as she folds her arms and listens. "How'd this Grain stuff get spread, anyways?" Someone has to ask it. 

:'''{{#var:560|Emiya Shirou (560)}} has posed:'''     It's THIS WORLD again. The one that freaky Servant comes from. The dead land.     And yet Emiya Shirou has come. Not because he is really interested in the place. There's nobody that needs saving, no reason to risk his life over some money and a question. Well, maybe the question is worth something, and the money can always be used to shore up Dun Realtai.     The REAL reason he's come is that his allies are interested. Allies he doesn't want to see hurt. And in one case, an ally who needs him around to be operating at his peak.     Shirou comes dressed in a white and blue skintight outfit that hasn't been seen before. Some kind of flexible, strangely ribbed, almost rubbery material. Might be something like a kevlar weave. It's protective in any case, and slightly resembles his normal clothing. Definitely better than that clunky suit of armor he's been hauling around.     "That's us. I'm Emiya Shirou. Nice to... meet you?" The boy blinks a few times at Akkinas' incredibly odd appearance. One can ALMOST see the question marks above his head.     The same can really be said of the way he looks over the magic at work. He knows a protective boundary field when he sees one, at least. "Breathing masks and pills? How are the pills supposed to be used? And... worse than machines?" He's hoping other people will ask more intelligent questions. They usually do. For the moment he goes to get a rebreather and adjust it. The doll gets examined in detail.     Hopefully this goes well. Hopefully it's worth it. When someone like THIS is their contact... who knows what's going to happen. He's got second thoughts about it all now.     "Most importantly, what are we looking for in these ruins?" 

:'''{{#var:756|Shin Tokuyama (756)}} has posed:'''     Shin is here, mostly because Christmas is coming up and he might need more money to get gifts. Also he wants to avoid eating more trashcan noodles for as long as he can. So getting some money would be nice. The question less so, but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it, "Yep. That's me. Here to help!"     He picks up a breathing device off the table and affixes it to his face, also grabbing a bottle of pills and cramming them into his backpack, "Cool. So what do you need out of the ruins? I remember the job post said it was some nerd shit, so like... old records?" He asks over the hiss of the breathing apparatus. He will totally need this thing, mostly because he's an ostensibly fully human person.     He doesn't really wait too long to step out of the circle and secure his backpack across his back, "You can actually pay, right? No offense, but you look sorta..." He makes a hand-wobbling motion, "Craaaaiglist-y. I just wanna make sure you've got the cash to back the job and won't pull some 11th hour betrayal scheme to welch out on me."     Shin leans in, inspecting him with a narrowed gaze with that mis-matched set of eye-colors, "Definitely sketchy." 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:''' While Lezard normally has minions for this kind of thing, this specific place is something of note to him. His interactions with another being who hails from this land, the tales of what has occurred there, and the state of the location seem to all build together into enough of import that even this job, as dangerous or unusual as it is, draws the Sorceror of Midgard. There is, however, a pointed difference. Those who are paying attention to Lezard might notice he is not present in his usual manner. Despite having the same appearance as normal, he is not actually flesh and blood, but a coalesced form of spirit and will, the form he usually takes when something has destroyed his homunculus vessels. He's actually between decating replacements right now. They're not cheap or quick to produce at a quality he would accept for /himself/ after all. Regardless, the Necromancer approaches, his gaze settling on the doll and Akkinas, before sweeping through the room to take in the surroundings. He smiles, and gives Akkinas a bow. "Greetings, Akkinas. I am Lezard Valeth. A pleasure to work with you." He simply pauses after his greeting, waiting for Akkinas to respond as the others ask the most pertinent questions at this time. Handy! 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa had been to this world once before she knew the enviromental hazards such is that of the Grain. she'd already suited up in her stealth gear and had the needed gear picked up. She was concerned yes but she'd gone this before so here she was. It didn't take long to get to the site she looks to Akkinas and bows a little bit. "Guilty as charged I admit. Machines and monsters?" She looks over to Staren for a moment as she just seems amused and then with Alexis comment she has to agree. "Thank you for the extra protection I'm Kotone Yamakawa." 

:'''{{#var:880|Nero (880)}} has posed:'''      Nero arrives not too late, but not too early. She is only exactly on time. Stepping through the warpgate, the Servant is dressed typically in her mildly off putting red garb. What? Dress appropriately to suit the wasteland you're coming to? Nonsense! This wasteland should change itself to suit /her/! But of course, that would not be happening.      Why is she even here anyway? And alone no less? Well, considering what happened yesterday, perhaps it /was/ more prudent to come alone. Of course, that thought has less weight when Emiya Shirou, master of reckless behavior is right nearby. ...Never mind that. More importantly, she was curious enough to come and see wht this land was about. Information was key, after all.      Putting that aside, she looked over the steel table, laden with supplies. Supplies she doesn't need. Being dead has it's perks. Sometimes. The magic circle and the doll are given a lingering glance before she shook her head, focusing instead on the figure of Akkinas. "Hmhm! You may call me Saber. And I am indeed here to grace you with my glorious assistance!"      The others have asked the most pertinent questions though, so Nero elected to remain silent, awaiting whatever information the odd figure would have to give before they set out proper. 

:'''{{#var:533|Sir Gawain (533)}} has posed:''' Luckily, Shirou has a shield for his reckless behavior! Following closely behind him is his Servant, the Saber Sir Gawain. He's dressed in full armor, and his blade, Excalibur Galatine, rests at his side in a sheath. There's an ever-present grin on his face, as he looks around the room, before walking up to the doll. "This is a very pretty doll! What is Grain? Like wheat?!" While he won't say it aloud, Sir Gawain is getting fairly hungry now. And then he walks back to Shirou, before looking at the rebreather. "I don't feel anything! What do these do?" As he asks, Sir Gawain picks up a rebreather anyways, beginning to put in on. Better safe than sorry! He doesn't know what kind of magic is going on here. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     One of Kuran Yuuki's favorite pasttimes was looking through the 'classified ads' and other such postings on the Syndicate and Union wanted boards, poring over them to find a place to help, or insert herself, or...     Let's just say that it was a constant job of her maids and Zero to keep her away from every lost kitten and sad story she could find. Today, however, was not that sort of day. People needed help, and even scavengers (such as what were asked for) could serve a role of help and aid. Better still, it was a world that had attracted a lot of her interest lately - one of the many that many would kindly call 'quaint' and generally consider 'a shithole'. But it's a place that screams I AM A BAD PLACE AND I NEED HELP.     It's like the butterfly-shaped batsignal to bleeding heart Normal Girls.     Dragging her white-haired companion and bodyguard along, Yuuki Kuran makes her wany through, listening to the briefing. "So... You need help keeping things from not going very bad! I understand completely!" She offers with undue amounts of good cheer, looking at the table. Oh! Uh...     She watches Shin, NORMAL MAN, put them on, and follows his example. She does need to be reminded that she is a Normal Girl sometimes, setting up her rebreather with much shojo consternation. You can almost see the tension lines around her as she tinkers with the gear.     "Am I doing it right?"     She is not doing it right. 

:'''{{#var:908|Gudako Ordria (908)}} has posed:'''     Prior to actually arriving, people may have been able to meet up with Gudako and her blue-robed, pink-haired foxy Caster. She will have offered protective charms, essentially paper talismans inscribed with a number of words like PURITY, PROTECTION, INTEGRITY and a few other synonyms. Basically they will conserve the wearer's body at its default health and state, and shield from the toxic atmosphere of the world. And possibly stuff like 'lack of oxygen' or 'very hot/very cold'.     It isn't foolproof and you're suggested to wear the talisman (a slip of paper) under your armor/clothes/whatever if you're worried it'll get damaged. It will however remove the need for a respirator, protective clothing, and other such fashion-ruining accessories.     Thus are the magus and her Caster here, curious to see Ark Line's world, maybe a bit bored, and not paying the slightest bit of attention to anything that was just said. Caster is, luckily. Gudako, well, she's too busy sliiiiding over towards Shirou.     "Hi." 8D     At least she's being social? 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     The fact that Zero Kiryu is present is largely a matter of playing bodyguard again. He arrives alongside Yuuki, though he looks irritable and surly about being here at all. That's not actually a statement about his mood about this in particular, he's always like that. A low, yet consistent measure of angry, like somebody who is perpetually feeling ill and simply can't cope with putting up a nice exterior anymore. Since his presence here isn't a matter of personal interest at all, he hasn't joined the others in asking questions or prodding at the person who did the hiring.     But he is focusing very intently on the rebreathers and medication that's been offered up. On one hand, he probably doesn't actually need this. On the other, while hunters are superhuman, they're not /wildly/ superhuman. The environment here is pretty extreme, and he doesn't really want to give people a reason to pick him out as a vampire if he can help it. Yuuki is even more sensitive about this out in the Multiverse, for some reason.     Stupid.     Fortunately, Yuuki doesn't need prodding to /try/ to get herself set up right. Zero turns his head to look at her when she's asking if she's doing it right, and she /isn't/. His flat, irritated expression grows even more flat and irritated. While he crunches down some of the pills like only somebody who takes way too much medication can, he fixes Yuuki's rebreather.     "... But you should really take the pills, too." He grumbles at her, while fixing one of the rebreathers to his own face. 

:'''{{#var:821|Archer (821)}} has posed:'''      'Nightmarish'... was a gross understatement for this world. The barren deserts, the tainted oceans, the air that poisoned any who breathed it in.      Hell was the only word for it, really... both in what had happened to it... and in the underlying truth it carried.      The bitter, irrevocable truth that no matter where they went, no matter what they did, no matter how many times they were saved... this was the inevitable outcome of humanity's future.      Yet in spite of that... Archer could not feel any satisfaction for this. Just empty pity for the souls that had brought this on themselves - a bitter, hollowed sadness at their stupidity... and the inevitability of their fates.      As a Counter-Guardian, he was more attuned to the state of the world then most... and it was taking all he had either not to turn on his heal and leave this world before whatever form of Alaya was here decided to try use his presence to it's advantage, if it decided it needed him enough.      He'd rather leave this world to rot in it's own self-made misery - he'd wasted countless decades trying to do that for a humanity on a living world - what point was there in trying the same for a dead one?      ...     And yet, the red-clad woman at his side - his Master - served as the authority that kept Archer bound here, even though this world was dangerous enough just for Servants. For a human like Tohsaka Rin... this place was deadly and damaging - mentally as well as physically.      After all... a world drowned in death and curses was not far removed from the world her sister would have created, had the Black Grail not been stopped.      As the bowman remained in spirit form to minimize exposure to the tainted world, Rin stepped tentatively over to the table, looking dubiously at the assorted equipment before taking it. Her typical attire is hardly going to be effective shielding from the environment, so she quickly opens the pills, promptly responding to Staren's question - "It's kind of like an inoculation for radiation... only in this case, it's an over-abundance of lethal prana. Grain, they call it."     She then turns to glance at Alexis, promptly answering her question - or half of it at least; "The spirit of the world, Gaia... died a long time ago, here. The Grain is what's left - released into the air as Gaia's body, the world itself, decays." She looks decidedly grim as she quickly downs some of the pills to help protect herself from contamination. "Basically... it's like the airborne rot spread by a dead corpse... which in this case is the entire planet."      She sounds decidedly morose... and understandably so, considering this world is close to her own in a way.      Archer takes note of Lezard's spirit arriving, as well as the red-haired Master of Caster, keeping an eye on them even as Rin shoots both Mages a withering glare and steps between them and Shirou. "Either of you try anything here... and I promise you won't /ever/ leave."      The... client, however, sets Archer's senses off with the prickling of a headache at his temples, concern mixing with weariness as he grapples with the nature of just what it is he's facing. A tentativeness reflected in Rin's brief treating - "Hello. I'm Tohsaka Rin. Pleased to meet you."      ... the fact that she said this even as a vein throbbed on her temple as Nero, Gawain, Yuki and Shin's 'introductions' occoured one-by-one honestly impressed Archer, considering she looked closer to exploding with each scene.      Not that he expected that to last long at this rate, but it was a valiant effort to say the least. 

:'''{{#var:915|Ira MacNally (915)}} has posed:'''     Environmental hazards are a problem...for normal people without resources. Quite recently, Ira MacNally has been fortunate enough to come into some resources-in particular, thanks to her new contract with the Murasame Zaibatsu. It's hard to tell that it's her at first glance because of the full face-covering helmet that comes with the GOLEM armor made available to the KIRIN security forces. It's environmentally sealed and, for this particular model, it comes with its own self-contained air supply. Upon closer inspection, however, she seems to be able to activate something that makes the mirrored surface covering the eyes become transparent.     This is how she indicates who she is to Gudako. That is only /after/ she slinks up next to her and puts an arm around her shoulder.     "Heeeeeey." She drawls in a voice that sounds like she's grinning even though the rest of her face can't be seen. "Ready to make some /money/?" 

:'''{{#var:560|Emiya Shirou (560)}} has posed:'''     Odd as it might seem, Shirou actually accepted some of Caster's talismans. She even received quite a show of sincere respect and gratitude from the young man, who wished her well in return.     Which puts him in a curious position when Gudako just starts sliding up. For every sliide she takes, he half-slides away. And looks over a shoulder at her.     With Lezard here, he's just plain on edge. But... Gudako's hard to just ignore. She's about his age, after all. So she gets him to turn his head her way and tense up a bit nervously. "Wh-what? H-hello. What brings you here? The world outside here's insanely dangerous from what I hear."     Come to think of it there are a distressing amount of people who seem ill-suited to this. There's Yuuki again. The COMPLETELY NORMAL GIRL. Shirou balks, eyes going wide with worry. "Are you really up to this?!" 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' Staren dismisses his question, so Akkinas lets it stay that way. He answers the other important one instead: "Render a human's body resistant to exposure to Grain. Ah, but I am afraid they are, erm... low quality, as far as such medicines go," Akkinas says apologetically. "As I am not a Last Seed, I have no need for anything of the like. But! Two tablets ingested will render you safe for an hour's time, with little ill effects after the fact." Akkinas makes a little head-motion towards Alexis, apparently okay with her scooping up her share of the stuff even if she doesn't need it. "I am not certain. They became more active recently, interrupting my expeditions into the ruins. Some seemed much more recently-manufactured than others. I wonder if the Liners have an interest in this area, as well?" His musings are interrupted by short, brief return bows to all the polite people. He seems pretty happy about it, though. Then, he's solemn instead. "The world died," Akkinas says sadly. "This is a thing I say again, and know I speak with only sorrow in my heart: the world /died/. A demon of a man slew it, driving his cursed blade through its heart and soul. We call him the Ultimate Disaster. He is All The World's Evil, given form. They call him Avenger, but of what, I could not say. Grain..." He lifts a hand, wrapped in rags, with taloned fingers cupped palm-up in the air. "...it is the corpse of the world rotting away, and poisoning what lived on its back." He lets his hand drop. The doll, as if taking a cue, rattles on the surface of the table. Akkinas stiffens. "Not long, now..." He shakes his head a little, and then turns back to the group as a whole. "There is a clock tower in the midst of the ruins. How it has stood for so long in what was such a developed place, I do not know. But, ah, Akkinas knows many things," he says, "and of these things is this: there is a wealth within, of ancient texts and written knowledge. It does not matter what it contains," he says a little dismissively, "only that it /exists/. There is so much that that was /lost/...!" "...but time is short. Monsters -- ah, a word, but such a weighty one. There is a war that rages across the surface of this rotting world," Akkinas says. "In war, monsters are made, and in war, monsters thrive -- but who can say what is /really/ a monster? And where there are monsters..." He lifts his head slightly. There's a glimmer of yellow behind the lenses of his plague doctor's mask, like light glinting off the inhuman eyes it conceals. "...there must be Heroes." He tilts his head to the side. "Wouldn't you say?" The circle flickers. There is a sharp cracking noise, and a fracture appears up the middle of the doll's face. The head split open, and it falls apart down the middle, crumbling into pieces as the glow fades. Inside, it's stuffed with sand and wadded rags, or what looks to be much like it. A faint wisp of blue light burns for a few seconds, and then vanishes. That's when the circle does, too, and the Grain comes flooding in. The huge and sudden exposure to the magically-charged particles may be shocking, especially to the magically-inclined among the group. It comes in a rush, filling the space like air rushing to fill a vacuum, and then... evens out. It's a feeling like an electric heat on the skin, if one were to pay attention to it. The innoculated and the breather-equipped have nothing to fear. Akkinas raises his arm, and points up the stairs. "The tower is that way. Please be careful. I will await your return." The stairs rise to a broken street and a cold, grey sky, in the midst of slumbering giants of glass and steel that have been long forgotten. They're in a city, somewhere, and surrounded by a grey, lifeless sand... and the silence of a world devoid of the plants and animals that would reclaim it. Straight ahead, damage begins to mount, until collapsed buildings fallen into the streets bar the way. It certainly /looks/ like ruins... 

:'''{{#var:756|Shin Tokuyama (756)}} has posed:'''     "Brooooo, totally not listening," Shin says in response to the immense about of narrative reveal that is ocurring. Whether he is actually not listening or not is up to debate, but he certainly looks bored by it all. So much so that he takes out his phone. That has a message on it to at least verify he'll get paid, but he swipes that to the side. Instead, he pulls up a different app and puts his earbuds in, blaring some J-Rock.     "Blah blah nerd shit blah blah world end, blah blah demon man," Shin makes a talking motion with his hand, "Rest assured in your heart, I'm holding B to skip this cutscene like you don't even KNOW." Shin assures him of this fact, despite him never asking, "Intro quest, we're doin it, alright."     He strikes a strange image, earbuds in his ears and a breathing mask on as he stops to at least give Yuuki a thumbs up and then ask Gudako, "Where'd your cat?!" In a forceful tone that indicates he has already forgotten its name, "I think her name was Barbara?" He waves his hand.     And then the song switches over to some catchy J-Pop which Shin sings along with as the mission starts, "Blood-soaked love~. Affection drips from the hole in your chest. I captured your heart!" He starts to walk towards the indicated direction of the tower. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren gives Lezard a baleful look. "...Obviously, the usual truce with Confederates in situations like this applies." Archer gets a more curious look, but Staren does open his visor enough to take two pills, swallowing it with a sip from a bottle of water pulled from his bag. "Can armor like this protect from grain, or is magic defense required?" And then, the field collapses and he feels nothing. Huh.     Staren heads up the stairs. Man... he thought he'd seen post-apocalyptic wastelands, but /this/...     This place looks like the /moon/, but with an atmosphere.     "Man. So we're being sent to retrieve a whole /library/? Does anyone have an idea about how to do that?" Once they come to the collapsed buildings, Staren stops and considers. "Well... does anyone /not/ have a way to get over this? Because it's not a problem for me." 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki looks at the pills. Oh right! There are pills! After she's helped with her rebreather, she takes pills, biting down like a COOL GAR ANGST MAN like Zero is, almost getting past everything before flinching at the taste. Ugh. She is not a pill-popper like Zero and grimaces as she chews and swallows. Eyugh, what a taste!     But the words said confuse and worry the high-school girl. "The world died?" She repeats, but it's quiet, in the same tone as one would go 'can it be so?'. And then...     Shirou's question makes Yuuki look awkwardly around. "Well, if people didn't help becuase it wasn't safe or easy, the world would be a horrible place. Will /you/ be okay?" She asks the magus, tilting her head as her long brown bangs fall over her shoulder and face. Shin, however, gets an incredulous look. "H-hey, this isn't a video game!" She calls. SHE KNOWS WHAT HOLD THE B-BUTTON DOES, SHE'S BEEN TO HIGH SCHOOL! RECENTLY! 

:'''{{#var:915|Ira MacNally (915)}} has posed:'''     "Huh, so this is what a /dead/ world is like, then? Hm. Not sure I like it very much. Not very /fun/." Ira seems oddly analytical about this for some reason. "So I'm curious though, Akkinas. This world's dying and you don't seem to be able to stop it. How come you guys don't close up shop and move to somewhere else in the multiverse? I mean, I'm guessing that a lot of people that were here already did so. But at this point why not just kick everyone out and....I dunno, can a world be decompiled or imploded or anything like that? Turned into world compost maybe?"     She goes silent at the mention of 'monsters'. Very silent, though it doesn't laugh, a low chuckle rumbling through the suit. She follows after, gauntleted boots crunching over the broken pieces of civilization. "What if they're aren't heroes though? What if you just brought in more monsters?" 

:'''{{#var:908|Gudako Ordria (908)}} has posed:'''     Corrupt? Wrong? For some reason those words just cause Gudako to smile a bit wider. Whether that's good or bad is up to interpretation, though there's no mistaking she took her glance off Shirou for a moment to look at Gawain.     And, probably, peep at his stats.     It's not her fault, that's a reflex.     "What brings me here? What brings yoooou here?" Gudako answers Shirou, expecting the question to answer his own. "Oh, take out all the heroic stuff though, I gotta pre-empt that."     As the Grain floods in, Caster's ears perk and twitch, the Servant's senses opening to the world. Though she is not equipped to use the sheer quantity of ambient magic present in the Land of Steel (blame how Witchcraft works compared to normal magecraft or even True Magic), that doesn't mean she's not a Caster, and fully aware of her surroundings too.     As they head to the broken city, Gudako answers Shin with: "Berserker! She's here, just not physical. Servants are ghosts, not people!" Wow, that sting. Caster frowns. Hopefully Nero, Gawain and Archer aren't too offended.     With debris blocking the way, Gudako turns back to Shirou. "I can't jump that high! Maybe a knight should princess carry me across. Hint hint!" Could Caster do it? Sure. It's more fun to harass the person she obviously makes uncomfortable. 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     The atmosphere is uncomfortably heavy with the supernatural. Zero can feel it around him, a phantom haze on his mental radar. Not really false positives so much as a thick layer of something "extra". The "people" around certainly stand out, but it couldn't be more clear that it's a very "rich" environment. It doesn't bother him directly though, if only for the medicine and rebreather. Internally, he decides he'll need to figure out if he can take it without such assistance later. He trails along at the fringes of the group, remaining near to Yuuki.     "This world /is/ a horrible place." He points out, not at all jokingly.     He leaves Yuuki's side on a temporary basis, moving up towards Staren at the front of the group to assess the rubble in their way. Zero glances around at the rest of the group, trying to assess them. A lot of them ping on his radar, a little for some, and a lot more for others. Those that /don't/ also tend to have something overtly non-magical about them to compensate for their lack of supernatural prowess.     "I'd guess we two or three who don't have a comfortable way up under their own power. If you have a means to clear it, go on ahead. I can, if needed." He says, to Staren. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa see quite a few people she knows she also notes Shirou is here as well along side Staren and Alexis. She listens to Akkinas and th tale he's got to say. She'll take the drugs but she's not sure if it will help but she has some flesh left and would rather not take chances on that. She gets the idea about the man's job and the mention of the world dying. "I think I had the missfortune to run into that demon of a man before. He's no laughing matter to deal with." She looks a bit haunted as she recalls in perfect detail as Avenger went through her and Riva like they were nothing. "I say I'll be seeing what I can find and don't worry we'll will be." Well she will be she's got some mroe detail. She looks over to Shin for a long moment. "It could be digital we don't know we have found intact computer hardware out here before." The talk about the world dead, she's from a world where Earth's just a ball of rock and nothing more yet this world was once alive? Now it was dead and if the story about Avenger is right? He killed it, the question is how do you kill a world like that. She falls in to keep with Staren as they head out and she calls out to Alexis. "Maaka come on keep up with us on this!" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     When she has some manner of answer, Alexis frowns behind her visor. The Servants in general seem like they have a raw deal in their existence, being summoned by some jackass mage to fight for them in a war that probably won't even benefit them if won anyways. It pisses her off, reminding her of the days when she fought not for herself but for the rich and powerful, who cast away countless lives just for their own sakes.     She can relate, she really can, to how one would feel as a Servant. Maybe not entirely, but she has some idea.     It's a miracle some of them end up as noble as they are, in spite of their quirks depending.     Alexis seems to snub Lezard for the moment, and others she is indifferent to beyond Kotone and maybe Staren. She does get her hackles raised when Berserker is mentioned. Glancing to others that arrive, she seems to hover most over Kotone in a protective, mother lion sort of way. "Stay on my back, just like always." She tells the younger cyborg, before she nabs her rifle and begins to head towards the clock tower at a pace others can catch up to if they jog. RIfle raised, she approaches the structure warily before she glances to Staren. "I'll manage." She says, before slinging her rifle again and activating something.     Getting a running start, she sprints towards the obstacle before taking a jump. Booster jets emerge from her suit, propelling her a good few feet before she fires off a grapple gun and begins her ascent over the debris, using her suit's adherent function to help her climb up. 

:'''{{#var:880|Nero (880)}} has posed:'''      "I believe we have collected all information necessary to the advancement of our task. Let us be off!" And with a flourish of the arm, Nero strode right out, past Akkina, up the stairs, annnnd up to the surface. They are headed for the surface, right? Right.      The feeling of Grain rushing in is immediate. She could feel her skin crawl uncomfortably, and in the process, shuddered. "Ergh! Such an unpleasant sensation. Truly this world is a pitiable one." An arm comes up, resting upon her chest. "And yet, I am here! For let it not be said that I, Saber, am unkind!"      Lost in her own world, the Servant makes dramatic motions as she openly monologues to herself. "As expected of me, mhmhmhm-"      Pause.      Nero stopped. She could have SWORN she just heard an impertinent little girl call her a GHOST. "You!" And of course, she whirled around, pointing directly at Gudako. "I will have you know that I am no ghost! I am the embodiment of everything great in this world! The true essence of beauty! Divinity given flesh once more! I am a five star entity! Not one star, not two stars, not three, nor four! But five!"      And with a huff, Nero rests her hands upon her hips. "You would do well to remember that, child!"      And then she turned and strode right back on, smiling proudly to herself. 

:'''{{#var:533|Sir Gawain (533)}} has posed:''' Gawain seems oddly cheerful as he learns that the world has died. There's the slightest hint of sadness to his words, but it doesn't stop his smiling. "Then you should bring it back! It can't be impossible! Nothing's impossible!" Anything else he might have been said is distracted from him, as he hears a cry for a knight. Gawain shambles over to Gudako, smiling at her despite how unsettling she is. "My lady, allow me! I, Sir Gawain of the Round Table, am an actual knight, and am therefore authorized to carry princesses!~" He moves in position to pick up Gudako, shall she accept, looking over at the ruins. It's his duty, after all! 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:''' Lezard Valeth does not even bother looming or scowling at Shirou or the others. The effect of his presence is enough to tell him that he needs no such actions. Of course, that's when Rin gets involved. As the girl interposes herself, Lezard's eyes flick to one side, and he pushes up his glasses, his gaze measuring, probing, considering. Finally, he speaks, a small smile curling on his face. "It is ill-advised to make promises you cannot keep." That smile does not fade at Staren's look, and Alexis doesn't even seem to register. It's like he /enjoys/ this or something. There is a low chuckle, and the Necromancer sweeps forward, his expression becoming intent at the mention of the Clock Tower. "That association of magi... Perhaps this might be interesting after all." The Grain comes flooding in, and the wave of saturating energy crackles over his spiritual form, blue and orange lights arcing over him as he adjusts for the influence rapidly... And then a fade as he achieves a form of equilibrium. Were he here in his physical body, it might have been different, but here... Well, only /humans/ need worry, yes? He steps up out of the station to look over the desolation, and shrugs for a moment, gesturing. "I can teleport us beyond the intervening terrain to reach the ruins quickly. Anyone who wishes to trust me and save some time can gather within the circle." He holds out his hands, and a gleamng magical circle begins to form, inscribing itself into the gray land around him with white light. A short time later, he and anyone who stands in the circle will be teleported to the ruins ahead, skipping the tedious intervening terrain. 

:'''{{#var:560|Emiya Shirou (560)}} has posed:'''     In rushes the Grain and Shirou's quite happy that he equipped that re-breather and the talismans from Caster. His whole body SHUDDERS and Magic Circuits tingle weirdly, like inhaling smog. It burns the lungs, but it's still breathable... but not something you should be exposed to for very long. Seriously.     Thank heavens for that Re-breather. Shirou quickly closes off his Magic Circuits however, unwilling to risk them respiring the 'mana' of this dead world, such as it now is.     He answers Yuuki with a hearty, "This world is already a pretty horrible place! Somehow doubt anything we'll find in there will change much. But I'll be okay. My Servant's here. Just call if you need our help, Yuuki."     Shirou's Stats: Alignment: Neutral Good Strength: -- Mana: F-- Endurance: D-- Luck: F- Agility: -- N. Phantasm: E~A++?     Just kidding.     "This hasn't got anything to do with heroics. I'm here to keep my friends safe!" He argues with Gudako... only to wince at her comment. 'Ghosts, not people.' He gives Caster a look of sympathy.     He further balks at Gudako's request. "Seriously?!" The boy blurts. The look on his face is quite clear. It says, 'You don't even remotely ACT like a Princess, what are you smoking?'     But he's looking back at her from his own efforts to climb.     Shirou pauses right then and there. Hrms.     "Trace, on."     One hand extends and he focuses for just a moment. What forms isn't anything terribly fancy. Looks like a spear. Smells like rocketry and time travel. He tosses it gently towards Gudako.     It's an AERODYNAMIC ROCKET SHOCKSPEAR.     Witches should ride broomsticks, maybe.     It's a weird lapse in Shirou's usual good manners. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren gives Gawain a disgusted look at the way he's treating Gudako. "She's /not/ a princess." He'll step into the circle to avoid splitting the party. Lezard won't try anything here. Probably. 

:'''{{#var:821|Archer (821)}} has posed:'''      Rin's glare deepens at Lezard's words, scowling lightly. "Go ahead and /try/ to prove me wrong, then. I'll be waiting."     Archer listens to the story of the world's death... and were he visible, he had no doubt some of the others would be taking note of his harsh expression hearing of what slew this realm's Gaia; a dark, grim look even for him, contrasted only by the look of barely-controlled shock on Rin's face.      Avenger. Angra Mainyu. The Avatar of all the World's Evils. The existence that had tainted the Fuyuki Holy Grail - and Matou Sakura - for years.      It had caused this death and destruction... and as such, Archer can feel the waves of stunned horror ebbing from Rin through their link. It only worsens when mention is made of a 'clock tower' filled with knowledge in the ruins of a city, the parallel all-too-close for Rin to dismiss.      The Grail War. If this world was really like their own, one of the Grail Wars may very well have been the cause - where else could an 'Avenger' have spawned from? Granted, this took from the assumption that the timeline of this place was the same as their own... but it was still the best thing to work off of at the moment.      Archer himself bristles a bit at the way the being - Akkinas - regards the existence of heroes. The logic his very existence as a Counter-Guardian was based upon - that there always had to be an equal and opposite force in place against the threats to the world; things that were arbitrarily branded 'monsters' simply for being a threat... regardless of the reasonings or circumstances behind it.      Yes... there would always be heroes. Always be people rushing into the fire to be killed or sacrificed for the sake of the world. And always... it would never be enough to make one difference.      However, Archer's further musings and misgivings are cut short as the magic circle effectively /fractures/, the Servant's outline briefly visible to those present before vanishing again. Rin lets out a small gasp as she feels the Grain wash over her, wincing a bit at the feeling. Thankfully, the gas-mask and the pills ensure she isn't negatively affected... but she keeps in mind that she only has two hours before that changes.      Archer thus falls in step with Rin as, taking a breath to prepare herself for what she may see, the pair exit to the surface... and find the wasteland that Rin had feared she'd see. 

:'''{{#var:821|Archer (821)}} has posed:'''      "This... this is London" Rin breaths out, hints of remorse leaking through the calm she was working to maintain. "It has to be... or what's left of it."      Archer may not have had much sympathy for mankind anymore... but he did still have sympathy for Rin, and as a result, seeing her silently mourn what became of London had him, if nothing else, give her some hint of reassurance through their link that this wasn't her world - if it was caused by the Grail War... then this future was likely already averted in her timeline. Or at least it wouldn't be caused the same way, though he left that part out.      However, a needed distraction for Rin quickly rises... in the form of a certain red-haired Master asking for another certain red-haired Master to carry her over a wall like something out of a bloody soap-opera. The comment about the Servants - namely that they're people regardless of if they're ghosts or not - already has Rin silently weary, but the girl's request is enough to get her staring blankly in disbelief. She wasn't even /trying/ to hide her intent.      At this point, Rin rather quickly steps between Shirou and Gudako-      "Archer, help her over the wall, will you?"      -and makes a ridiculous request that he can't help but give a deadpan "What?" to as a response. "She has her own Servant - and that." He gestures to the rocket-spear Shirou created.      Rin crosses her arms rather petulantly in response. "And she's obviously not going to excretes that right. Plus, she likely doesn't know how to ride that... that satanic death-machine." Rin herself looks at the spear with what seems to be pure venom - she remembers the last time she was forced to ride the hellish contraption. "You're stronger and faster then Emiya-Kun, so it makes the most sense, right? Plus, I don't trust her not to accidentally kill someone with that thing, so just get it over with - the sooner you do this, the sooner she can shut up and move on."      Archer opens his mouth to protest... but sighs in resignation when he sees her cross her arms and glare expectantly. Finally, he sighs and shrugs in a gesture of surrender. "As you wish. Damn you to hell, Master." He says this in such a deadpan tone that one might think he was talking about the weather, even as he tentatively takes the Rocket-Spear and gestures for Gudako to hurry up, grab on and get on with it.      Rin in turn starts keeping a very close eye on Shirou from this point on as she opts to start climbing up after him... though whether that is a good thing of a bad thing, Archer can't tell. As if he would comment if even if he did - such as how he didn't question how she was staying to climb the hard way just to keep an eye on Shirou.      He still had /some/ self preservation instinct, after all. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     As Staren stands impatiently inside the circle, a look of remembering something suddenly flashes across his face. "Oh hey, Alexis! Here you go, you might need these, you can pay me back later." He reaches into his bag, and pulls out what looks like a heavy assault rifle with an unusually-wide barrel and a couple of spare magazines. By the sound of the *thunk* as he sets them down just outside the circle, they must be pretty heavy. 

:'''{{#var:908|Gudako Ordria (908)}} has posed:'''     Gudako muses out loud, looking at Nero. It seems the arguments don't much faze her. "HMMMM. Well, you ARE a Saber. It's true you're the embodiment of everything great by default! Ah, but does that change the fact you're just a ghost in a magical body? You're not really human! You should try winning a Grail War and wishing to be people, maybe that'd help!"     That's kind of meeting her halfway.     Better than nothing?     She also sticks her tongue out at Staren. A very very brief interruption of her 8D face, which immediatly resumes after the fact.     The magus catches the spear from Shirou, examining the weapon. What, does he expect her to actually do something on her own? This is a weapon, a terrible tool she has non-people to use for her. It seems before she can correct him, argue, or otherwise rebute Gawain away (it's less fun to bother him! he's a dork, and also a loyal knight who wouldn't actually hesitate to help someone awful), Archer is being told to carry her instead!     Gudako smiles to Archer. "You should listen to your master! She sounds smart, and like she has a good grasp on things." The spear is handed to Archer, and Gudako rides with the Knight of the Bow.     Likely, this involves going 'WHEEEEEEE'.     Caster sighs, and just jumps after them. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren looks back at Gudako. "Wow, every time I think you /couldn't/ possibly be more of an asshole, you prove me wrong." 

:'''{{#var:662|Fake Avenger (662)}} has posed:'''      Lezard Valeth's Circle Of Cheating works just as advertised. There's a slight...discomfort...as the Grain rushes to fill the space they're leaving, but unless someone actively tries to mess with the teleport, it doesn't do anything untoward. They are flung through the Land of Steel, bypassing the tedious space between their destination and their teleportation point.      CLOCK TOWER      The teleport drops them off in the midst of ruins. The ruins are surprisingly high-tech; lots of metal buildings, fallen or corroded, sit perilously around the square, glinting in the dying light of the evening. The warm orange sunset is at least unchanged, even if the sky is strangely cloudless, a dull and unpleasant grey that seems almost apathetic and uncaring.      In the center of the ruined square sits the clock tower. There can be no doubt that it is the clock tower Akkinas spoke of - it is huge, and out-of-place under the grey sky and amidst the corroded ruins. It is old enough to be distinctly Victorian, though far larger than a clock tower normally should be. The clock still ticks ominously, its massive hands moving with a dull THUD. THUD. THUD.      THUD.      THUD.      There is a door here, an ornate double-door with an old-style knocker in the shape of a lion's head. A building leans on it, unpleasantly blocking a great deal of the entrance.      Standing out front of it is a man surrounded by various rusty construction robots. He's lanky, tall and thin. In fact, he's much TOO tall and much TOO thin - anyone that tall and that thin should be dead. The robots alternately hammer on the door and dig at the ruined building, attempting to make a space.      The man turns to look upwards as the party arrives.      He has no face. His face is a bug mask, a six-legged bug mask and a big, big grin. Like a really huge grin. He does not appear to have.../eyes/.      The man takes a flying leap and lands in front of them. At that moment, Shin's headphones start to skip loudly. Gudako's cell phone rings an off-beat ringtone (it's Elizabeth's song from the music player). Other mechanical devices misbehave in bizarre ways, sputtering out weird messages or making loud and unhappy whirrs unless they're Elite-tier (or you don't want them to, in which case they don't). "TO: youguys@infrontof.me SUBJECT: Hello! Who Are You? Hi, You Guys! Who are you? What are you doing out here? Did you get my message about FABULOUS PRIZES and LIFE-CHANGING DECISIONS? Did you in fact decide to ACT NOW? :) Attachment: :).bmp"      The tall, lanky man straightens to his full height as robots start curving curiously around the group. This close, you can see that he's wearing a suit - a suit made out of /newspaper clippings/. Right down to the tie.      The man's thin fingers go to his chin again. His grin becomes a frown. "TO: youguys@infrontof.me SUBJECT: Follow-Up! Hi, You Guys! I was kind of rude there, wasn't I? You don't even know me. But don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm Rider, and I'm here for FABULOUS PRIZES :D Do you guys like Fabulous Prizes? Maybe we can be Friends! :D Can you open the door for me? If you can, we can definitely be friends! Friends are great, right? :D Attachment: Friendship.bmp" 

:'''{{#var:756|Shin Tokuyama (756)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     VWOOP. Shin is teleported, mostly owing to not paying attention where he's walking and getting sucked along with the rest. He reappears, not really hearing Yuuki when she scolds him about life not being a video game. Of course it's not a video game, that would be way more convenient.     He looks up and around in surprise. Mission accomplished, though, since he made it through what he can only assume was a narratively-imposed travelling time skip, "Convenient!" He declares as he dusts his hands off. Only to be greeted by his Elizabeth Bathory Hit Single 'There's A Hole In Your Chest (Where My Love Should Go)' abruptly fritzing out and his phone acting weird.     "Oh dude, no, sorry. I didn't know you people existed here too. I guess if anyone was going to survive the end of the world," Shin says, holding up his hands immediately as if refusing to allow himself to hold something, "No tissue packs. Keep the tissue packs. I don't want tissue packs. NO TISSUE PACKS." He repeats it firmly, clearly used to people randomly soliciting him with business-like requests as a resident of Tokyo.     "I don't wanna buy it." Shin declares firmly. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:''' Akkinas watches the group leave. If he's giving any of them dirty looks (like, say, Shin), it's hard to tell. The full face mask tends to make it difficult to judge facial expressions. He /does/ touch something near the side of his head, though. Maybe he's getting on the radio with them?     RUBBLE WALL The rubble ahead proves a problem that is circumvented by HARD WORK AND GUTS (and, in one big case, wizard magic). It looks like someone made a wall of fallen buildings here, a few hundred feet tall and probably wider. Getting up it is a matter of using technology and care; the interior might have passes through, but using a grappling gun and getting to the top and just going over is probably easier. The most stable way over it turns out to be climbing up to a thirty-foot-wide gap where one building, which looks like it was /tossed/ on top of the other, has split in half. There's a slight slope of piled-up debris on the interior, sloping upwards towards the far end which overlooks the clock tower and the rest of the topped structures. Twisted, jagged metal and broken stonework make up these things that used to be buildings. It's hard to tell how long they've been here... Alexis's suit and grapple gun gets her a head start scaling it. She can see office equipment scattered everywhere on the interior of the building she's up against. Occasionally, she sees the shapes of what might be bodies left on the inside... but nothing is moving, and there's little enough light coming from either side as it is. She could stop... but that might be perilous, given the height. The top isn't much further, now! And then, suddenly, something's in the way. Those ascending have their line of sight dominated by looking down (well, up) the barrel of a cannon. It's huge, bigger than anything a person ought to wield, and there /definitely/ wasn't anything up there big enough to warrant a /tank gun/ getting levelled at them... except that's precisely what it is, the fifty millimeter cannon angled downwards to directly block the grappling gun's ascent. Wielding(!) it is a man, apparently human, with black boots, a dark grey officer's uniform, and a peaked cap, all pristine and in the style of a German officer from the second World War. His eyes are piercing, and his expression is grim and serious. He's holding the top of the tank turret with one hand, gripping a bar on the hatch without any apparent effort. When he speaks, it's with an accent that matches the uniform's origins. "You are working for the A-RAY in that tunnel, yes?" His tone is businesslike. "That is... unfortunate. But you would not be here, in this place, if you intended to interfere with the war directly." The man pauses for a second -- and then swings the tank cannon out of a ready position, stepping aside and allowing the others to ascend. He puts his other hand to his chest. "I am Assassin, of the Steel Faction," he says. "If you intend to go further, I must warn you there is a dangerous Servant in the vicinity whose intentions are far from harmless. I have been tracking it for some time. I tell you this as a courtesy," he adds, his tone softening. "I would not see good men and women throw their lives away unnecessarily." 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     CLOCK TOWER:     Zero makes a distinctly unpleasant face as his radio starts going nuts due to proximity to this inhuman weirdo. Its appearance, and manner of dress, and communication quirks simply get the most aggravated look out of him. This is, in actuality, measurably more irritable than he was /before/ they started teleporting. He reaches up and tugs his earbud radio out of his ear, leaving it to dangle next to his collar. Nevertheless, he still indulges this "Rider's" request, if only because it happens to coincide with their own anyway.     Looks like this guy has spent some time trying to break the door down.     The vampire hunter's solution is to just try the door knocker first. It might just be some sort of sorcerous trap or locking mechanism. Either way, he reasons, they're probably going to trip whatever nonsense is going on in this place just by entering it. Can't hurt to try knocking before you try knocking the doors and walls down. 

:'''{{#var:880|Nero (880)}} has posed:'''      CLOCK TOWER      Womp. Teleportation, ho. Once the group is safely transported, the first think Nero does is... look straight at Gudako. "While I do commend your understanding of my greatness, I continue to condemn your classification of my radiant self as a ghost!" Half way for half way? "Besides, why would I wish to be human? I have already done that! It is time to do something greater!" Really, Nero?      Whatever else she would have gone on with was interrupted by the appearance of a lanky, masked individual, and his cadre of circling robots. The fact that her radio was going rather haywire the moment he appeared was unsettling enough. But more than that...      "Rider..." The blonde Servant mused aloud, looking the newspaper suited figure up and down. "...Are you perhaps a Servant?" With a name like that, he had to be. But also. "...And what exactly are these 'prizes' you speak of?" Not that she was immediately interested, but it never hurt to know. Until such a time that it did. 

:'''{{#var:915|Ira MacNally (915)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER    An easy teleport offered by a wizard? Ira will take it. She's not afraid of Lezard, after all, and has absolutely zero reason to be. Confidentally, she strolls into the teleport circle and waits to be transported away by the magic.     Following that, she'll stroll out to the front because she's tanky and it also makes her feel like she's leading the exploration. She's really not and might unknowingly be the weakest person here but until something goes wrong, she'll indulge this little fantasy in her head.     Somewhere within the GOLEM suit, the sounds of Floggy Molly crackle out, warped to the point where it sounds like squeaks. Instinctively, Ira reaches for her cell phone, which would normally be in a pocket at her hip. This results in an awkward CLANK as the suit fingers grasp against the sealed suit at her waist. "...ugh. Well that's unfortunate..."     Then the weird bug-mask faced man starts to talk. "...did this world die before you got to invent Twitter? But yeah, we're here for fabulous prizes. Maybe we can work something out."     Ira's attention strays to the rusty construction robots. She breaks away from the group and immediately procures one of the construction robot hammers for her own, regardless of size or apparent attachment to the robot. She'll brace herself and rip it off if she has to. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER Lezard arrives, skipping tedious travel time and an ALTERNATE ENCOUNTER in favor of a strange man with a bug mask. The dead and enervated landscape seems to being out a mild scowl in Lezard's expression. "Even Niflheim has more life than this blasted place..." The Sorceror comments, but his attention is forced to be drawn to the strange Servant. While not having Gudako's facility with examining statistics, he does watch the being intently, rubbing his chin as he contemplates the odd speech. As everything he uses (including his radio) is magical, he doesn't seem to be getting as afflicted as the others. After a few moments, his eyes flick to the others to observe their response to the being. Shin's response gains a mild smirk of amusement from the Sorceror. Finally, he makes his decision. "Feel free to come with us. We can share in the findings." Lezard states, gesturing to the door. As Zero moves to try the knocker, Lezard steps forward, adjusting his glasses by habit as he studies the portal. Clock Tower was an organization of mages, therefore there should be a magical solution to opening the door. It would be logical. He just needs to find it. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     CLOCK TOWER:     Yuuki is VOOPED across a huge stretch of INTENSELY BORING TERRAIN when it finally dawns on her what is happening. She is taking magical aid to go to a place by THAT ONE WIZARD WHO TRIED TO KILL HER AND THEN PUT A SPIRIT INSIDE OF HER TO ANIMATE HER STILL-ANIMATE CORPSE.     She still remembers the very sick feeling she got in her 'spirit', like she had 'eaten' someone. Well, she reckons that she did, actually, and that doesn't sit very well with her. Her totally-creeped-outness only redoubles as RIDER OF BLEH shows up (or is it BLEH Rider?), making her smartphone emit a very girly bit of some euro/j-pop fusion and embarrass her terribly. And he speaks so...     Ugh, it was like an email from Chairman Cross! Euuuuugh! Worse than pills!     Yuuki just sort of stares, like an 'are you my father ugh please no' look, as Zero just goes and tries the knocker.     "Ah, er, come again? Mister Rider?" She gives a Look at Shin. He's being so cavalier and rude! On this world that needs smiles! And kindness! And... And to collect on its life insurance, apparently...     Yuuki is tacitly alright with Zero trying the door, because that's polite! Yaaaay politeness! 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     RUBBLE WALL     Alexis takes a moment to store her shotgun, placing the rocket launcher Staren just provided her on her back before doing her little climb.     ANYWAY, back to right now. Alexis uses her own strength to help carry Kotone up as she reels herself upwards, reaching the top with hard work and GUTS as one puts it. Having paramagnetic gear and a grapple gun helps, so does cyborg strength in this case. The debris and twisted metal are treacherous, and Alexis notes bodies inside amid the office items.     She stops only to look up and see a /tank's/ gun pointed at her face, or at least down from where she came from. "...uhh."     Trying her best to look past the cannon, ALexis sees a gentleman just out of the African front of World War II, and her confusion rises when she gets a good look at the man. "Uhhh, hi there." She climbs more once the Assassin of Steel allows further ascent, and she helps swing Kotone upwards before she herself climbs to join the tank driver.     Only there is no tank. There was no tank. This Assassin of Steel was carrying it like an action movie hero using a minigun.     This guy is some serious business, alright. "We're here to investigate the clock tower. Sorry about the scare, sir. We're kind of not from around here." She says, before nodding. "Appreciate the warning, we were told there were machines running about, not to mention something else out here. This must be it. Any intel you can spare us on this Servant in case we find it first?" So far this Servant seems up front, it might be best to trust him a little bit. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Rubble Wall Kotone says back to Alexis. "No problem there, opening up tac net now." Alexis has been a big sister to her, helping her cope with her new state of life far more than Alexis might even have understand. she's happy to fall in and today her SMGs is on her back and in her hand are a pair of blasters in hand, she keeps in good formation as he moves forward. She's glad she brought a few things, Kotone is just parkrouing it a bit using her body's inate mobility and strengh to climb, after she holsters her pistols. heck at this poitn Shirou might notice her fingers are digging into the side of the building as she goes to make he way up. She wasn't expecting to see someone witing for them, let alone someone seeming to be from germany's world war two. It's sitll recent enough that she's aware of it. She pauses at the man as he gives a warning and she's also looking at at 50mm tank cannon which does give her pause. "Thank you for the warning, I didn't expect much more here than old glitched guard robots to be honest. Sir and thank you for the warning, It is welcome." She is also clearly looking at the man, she seems to know the uniform from the expression on her face. "Didn't expect any people of any stripe here like my partner said." She seems to be willing to give the man a chance as well from the sound of her voice. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     /Most/ of Staren's gear isn't affected, but some small messages do appear in the corner of his vision as he just... stares at the way the strange bug-man is talking. PAN DEVICE ERROR spare_ecto_1 PAN DEVICE ERROR spare_ecto_2 PAN DEVICE ERROR spare_ecto_3     "I, uh... what are you doing?"     Dawn's avatar appears, in animated GIF form, on his HUD.     Staren, the ectos are no longer able to maintain a secure wireless link due to a certificate error. I cannot diagnose this at this time. My files appear to be corrupted -- most notably, their modification dates have been set to 12/2/2403.     <<What? That's correct.>>     Today's date is 1/1/1900     Whatever it is seems to have also affected your implant. If even you yourself believe it is 12/2/2403... There are many strange things in the Multiverse. Could this be the result of time travel?     "..." Staren stares at something noone else can see. Then he glares at the man(?) warily. "What did you do?! How can you ask us to help you while messing with our stuff?!" 

:'''{{#var:560|Emiya Shirou (560)}} has posed:'''     RUBBLE WALL     Hup! Hup! Hup!     Shirou kicks his ascent up a notch, legs pumping with a new vigor since more speed was called for. Hints and wisps of prana flow through his muscles, detectable only just barely with the right senses. Oddly, he seems to have a sense for exactly what parts of the rubble pile are unstable and which can be safely stepped on, although he does pause several times. Up and up he goes. From concrete chunk to steel beam to the largest safe passageway up in Maaka's wake. All until...     ERK!     Acting on pure self-preservation instinct, he flinches and halts. There's a PRESENCE above that wasn't there before.     But halting on this unstable footing isn't the best of ideas. As Shirou comes to a halt, he just KNOWS that defending himself will be needed. Kanshou and Bakuya materialize in his grasp as the boy turns a furrowed brow up at the weapon that's just suddenly THERE... and...     "Wh-whoaaaghhhhhhh!"     The boy just tumbles backwards... and promptly SLAMS his weapons into the toppled skyscraper's side. They make excellent climbing implements for this occasion. It leaves him scrambling to get upright again.     "Servant!" He's on edge, but since the strange SErvant's not attacking... Assassin just gets the boy peering at him quizzically.     "I'm Emiya Shirou. Thanks for the warning, Assassin. We were headed to the clock tower to do some treasure hunting. A-RAY? The masked magus? ..." What's an A-RAY, he ends up wondering. And it's written all over his face, too.     The boy grimaces rather unhappily. "Are we being used?" 

:'''{{#var:908|Gudako Ordria (908)}} has posed:'''     It's prior to teleportation that Gudako and Nero talk again (since Gudako did not follow in!). Mostly, the magus continues smiling, looking the Servant back in the eyes. "Huh? I don't get it. You're dead. It doesn't matter what you call yourself, right? You're a ghost. You're someone who used to be alive but aren't anymore! Sad trombone, etc. etc.!"     And then she rides with Ar     chy">RUBBLE WALL     "--EEEEEEEEE!" continues Gudako, riding a rocket spear with a particularily sour and uneager Archer. Sometimes, it's the small things in life, you know? Eventually the ride must end, though, and Archer sets Gudako down on the other side of the wall (whether he's gentle or not won't much change her response, short of him stabbing her). Caster lands by her master, dusting herself, and now they're with the group!     Well, the group that made it over. It seems a fair few people are still climbing, and now being faced by an Assassin! Gudako, being rude as fuck, immediatly peeps at his stats, and then yells:     "HEY ASSASSIN! DOES YOUR PRECOGNITION WORK ON GACHAS?"     Caster frowns again! "M-Master, please be more respectful when meeting a new Servant. They might be hostile," she tells her master.     "CASTER SAYS I HAVE TO BE MORE POLITE TO YOU, ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A NEW MASTER, ASSASSIN?" Gudako appends her statement with, still shouting.     Because she's at the bottom of the rubble wall, and all.     Still 8D though. 

:'''{{#var:533|Sir Gawain (533)}} has posed:''' There's a Rider! An odd one, who sounds like the hundreds of spam emails Gawain gets daily. But, he seems friendly, and he's not attacking them despite several Servants! "Of course! Friends are great!" With a grin and a nod, Sir Gawain heads to the door, silently offering to try and force a hole in the wall if they can't get it open otherwise. 

:'''{{#var:821|Archer (821)}} has posed:'''      RUBBLE WALL     Archer wasn't quite sure is he was or wasn't reminded of Illya with how the girl was acting - or rather, squealing as though she were on an amusement-park ride - as they rode up the wall on the spear. Though much of Archer's concentration was focused on maintaining and controlling the object - it was hardly any wonder the boy had such trouble using it - part of him couldn't help but feel a combination of bemusement and horror at how Gudako seemed to be as whimsical and carefree as the Einzbern homunculus, just as eager to try and get her way all the time... and also interested in Emiya Shirou.      Honestly, what was it that caused so many females to take note of the idiotic child?      If nothing else, the trek up the wall is swift, and with the spear he can likely reach the top rather swiftly - and from there, much to his great relief, drop the overly-excitable Master off-      Which is what helps him see the cannon being aimed down at everyone by the massive man, cursing inwardly at what seemed to be unexpected hostilities...      ... which in turn forces him to make a rather unfortunate concession. He can't afford to not be combat ready with this newcomer... so as a result, even with Gudako right next to him - and possibly able to recognize the significance of what he says - he readies himself.      "Trace; On."      Prana condenses into his hands, the blueprints etched into the hill of swords conceptualizing into Kanshou and Bakuya - which Emiya Shirou also coincidentally picks to use that moment. r      'Great' Archer thought sarcastically. As if Gudako needed /any more hints/ as to who he was.      He doesn't linger on it though, immediately bounding back up to the top of the building as fast as he can. Meanwhile, Rin is able to have an easier time of climbing.      "Es ist gro�... Es ist klein... Vox got Es Atlas."      Reinforcement magic helps her make the trip up far easier as her body is strengthened, using whatever footholds she can find to start making bounds scaling up in increments before steadily making her way up to the gap over the immense... barricade, for lack of a better word.      All throughout, she does her best to not pay close attention to the many corpses that are likely strewn throughout this misshapen heap of buildings clamored together to form a wall... trying not to think of how many must have died in terror.      Pushing the feelings aside for now with a breath - and swallowing down some indignant irritation at how her offer to help carry Shirou up the building resulted in, as she didn't think he needed to be /that/ awkward about something so-      At this point, something pierces Rin's senses, a gasp escaping her lips as something /appears/ somewhere up above. becomes belatedly aware of the massive cannon-barrel aimed right at them all.      A stunned curse escapes her lips, eyes widening in shock before quickly realizing the shooter - if you could call such a weapon a mere firearm - could have fired on them any time by now... though she is dubious of the military uniform. She hardly has any reason to have faith in any military for this world, even when he lets them up.      "Yes... I suppose we are" Rin answers carefully in regard to the question of who they're working for, looking cautious at the mention of a 'War'.      She is then forced to try and reign in her surprise at the man's introduction as 'Assassin' - what kind of assassin wielded a freaking tank gun?!      But... what catches her attention more is the warning of another Servant in the area... and then, the truth dawned on her.      The realization... that they had stumbled into another Grail War. 

:'''{{#var:662|Fake Avenger (662)}} has posed:'''      CLOCK TOWER      Rider stares at Shin for a long moment. Then he shakes his head. He makes gestures, which he apparently expects Shin will understand, to the idea of 'I'm not a salesman'.      This involves taking out a very old marker, drawing money eyes on his mask - literal dollar and yen symbols, where eyes should be - and then scribbling them out. He gives Shin a huge thumbs-up with a long, oddly-shaped thumb.      Then pulls out an oily, black, ragged washcloth, spits on it, and wipes the mask off. He does not remove it in the process. He fiddles with the mask for a moment, straightening it like a faulty painting, then beams at Nero and nods at the 'are you a Servant'.      Rider makes a distressed noise as Ira rips the hammer off the robot. His grin flips upside-down immediaely, and he slumps a little. It probably didn't hurt him. It looks like he's just sad. The robot beeps and shuts down. Rider straightens and shrugs, looking at her before his grin returns. He gives a big, happy thumbs-up to Yuuki. The world is in need of smiles! Apparently he agrees!      "TO: youguys@infrontof.me SUBJECT: RE: Fabulous Prizes And Questions Answered Hi, You Guys! I don't know what this Twitter is, but it sounds great. I'm glad that you're here for fabulous prizes, too! That means we can share and be awesome friends! :) Oh, by the way, there's a really bad Servant who's been tracking me. Keep an eye out for him! I think he works for one of the big war factions! Your Friend! :D, Rider P.S.: You should worship me! Then we'll be Extra Friends! (But you don't have to. It's okay. I understand. Nobody wants to worship me. :( I'm not a very good god, huh? :( ) Attachments: sadgodinsno.bmp"      Zero walks up and knocks. There is a thunderous noise, like something cracking. The door swings open, underneath the rubble.      Rider rubs his chin. Evidently he literally just never thought of knocking. He claps his hands together and strolls inside.      The group is greeted with a beautiful velvet carpet, greatly out-of-place n this hellish environment. Pleasant jazz music plays as they enter, ancient 1920s jazz that Rider immediately starts skipping to delightedly. Pictures hang on the walls of various men and women, covered in dust. Small mice - clearly not *real* mice to even a cursory examination, as they're walking on two legs and sweeping up with brooms - pass by the group's footsteps. Twin staircases wind upwards under a glorious (but darkened) chandelier.      Rider turns around and puts two thumbs up.      "TO: mynewfriends@with.me SUBJECT: Fabulous Prizes Hi, My New Friends! So I know you wanted to know what the Fabulous Prizes are! Well, it turns out they're all over this place! There's really old magic lurking here, and I really want some of it! Also, history books! I really want one of those! History sounds really cool, right? :) But I don't mind sharing! That's what friends do! Besties, Rider Attachment: Besties.bmp"      It is at the very end of Rider's sentence that a massive, meaty paw slaps him out of the way. Rider goes flying into a wooden staircase as a huge, black, six-headed dog emerges from underneath the chandelier and bellows at the group. 

:'''{{#var:756|Shin Tokuyama (756)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     Oh Shin gets how this guy goes now. This thing is basically some weird sort of amalgam of the internet. The Y2K bug wasn't quite as huge a deal in Japan as it was in America, but this thing is internet related and Shin at least knows how to speak its language that way.     So when it tells Shin that it's his friend and not a salesman, Shin nods his head and takes out his phone. He taps on the keys a few times and then turns it sideways, holding it up to Rider. It has an emoticon on the screen.     It's this one: http://puu.sh/lHqrt/33e5883a75.png     Then when they're talking about going inside, but how he is hunted by another Servant that is a bad guy, Shin erases the old emoticon and gets to typing some more. This one takes him a while, because it's too emoticons in sequence.     You should sneak attack it: http://puu.sh/lHqmL/1d4d0f2db3.png http://puu.sh/lHqfZ/54a072ff06.png     And finally, as the door is open and he's talking about how they should look around, but share treasure, Shin taps a few more times and holds out the phone for the third and final time. He's pumped up: http://puu.sh/lHqiK/223fc42ded.png 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:'''     RUBBLE WALL Assassin of Steel nods minutely at Maaka and Kotone. "It is fine. You were early enough not to be caught in the crossfire. It would be dangerous if you were to come between us." He says it like it's a fact, and a warning. Not to scare her off, per se, but to warn her to go around another way. He's clearly got a job to do. "He has power over machines; they answer his call, and he disables them with trivial ease. He also wields a pair of... swords, I think. There is something strange about them; they are not like any blades I have ever seen." Apparently, he's totally willing to share his intel. "He wanders with no objective other than spreading chaos and seeking 'worshippers.' Be very careful around him." Something about what Shirou says gets him to quirk an eyebrow thoughtfully, but he reads Shirou's expression easily, smiling a little instead of commenting on it. "Certainly foreign, if you don't know about the native life. A-RAYS: the animalistic peoples who share Earth with the remnants of humanity. The Steel Faction fights them for the survival of the human race. The individual you must have spoken with, wearing the rags, he is one of them. I am uncertain if he is involved in the greater war, however," he adds. Gudako, who is shouting, gets him to lean over the edge and look puzzledly down at her. He has no idea what she's talking about. He puts his free hand to his mouth, calling back, "No, thank you! I have a war to win!" He starts to step back -- and then he hears Rin and sees Archer. Assassin's expression immediately changes. He looks at Archer with obvious surprise and clear recognition. "What are you doing here? I was assured I was the only one in this --" He stops suddenly. A look of realization crosses his face, and he schools his features to stoicism instead. "-- ah. You must be with this young lady." He slips into German, tipping his cap to Rin. "It lightens my heart to hear another speak my mother tongue. Thank you, young miss." He doesn't seem to be aware that he's nearly found his quarry. At least he's talkative and kind of friendly, unlike most Assassins? 

:'''{{#var:915|Ira MacNally (915)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     Ira doesn't seem to care about the SADs that she brings Rider from mutilating one of the robots. She doesn't even seem to care that doing so makes it shut down. "Twitter is like email, but faster, smaller, and everyone can read it." Ira's all too happy to explain. "I'd show it to you but I don't think my phone is working right now."     She observes the knocking with the knocker, which amazingly works and she immediately wonders why Rider didn't try it. The question goes unasked, however, in favor of another one: "Now I know how this Servant stuff works but...Rider, where's your Master? You /do/ have one, right? Or do you /need/ one?"     Hey, it was worth asking, right?     "...you can have all the history books you want." Ira deadpans, "I'll be happy with the...old magic I guess?" she shrugs to the others, wondering if she'll have to fistfight Lezard over loot. She'd do it. Guy doesn't look like he has much physical prowess anyway.     Suddenly a SIX HEADED DOG MONSTER APPEARS. Ira does the logical thing and rushes it head on so she can hit the nearest dog head with a hammer. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     As soon as Staren tells the radio about the date, his expression shows that he's figured out what Rider is supposed to be.     He doesn't know HOW, or WHY, but the reference is clear.     "...You really can't help it, huh? So you're a servant, and a god, and you're the Y2K bug, and you just DO this. I dunno what's up with that. But I guess, if you're willing to HELP us, then you earn a share of the loot."     Inside they go. And there are... sweeping mice. "Huh. /That's/ neat. So, what else do you know about this place? I don't suppose you might also know a way to move /all/ the books?"     Before Y2K can answer, he's smacked aside. Staren is so... off his game due to dealing with... the Y2K bug... that he doesn't immediately just blast the dog. He does raises his arm, pointing the weapons there at it. "Alright Double Cerberus or whatever you're supposed to be, I don't suppose YOU want to talk too?"     He'll fire the beam cannons and take evasive action himself if there are any further agressive movements from the dog, towards Staren or... well, the people who count as his 'allies' today. 

:'''{{#var:533|Sir Gawain (533)}} has posed:''' Sir Gawain doesn't need to bash a door in! Hooray! As Rider talks about magic, Sir Gawain speaks up. "What do you need magic for, Rider? Is it for your Master? We'd be happy to help you!" Before they can actually do it, though, they get attacked by a six-headed dog. And it hurts the Rider! The Knight immediately draws Excalibur Galatine, before he charges forward, going to slice at one of the necks of the dog. Here's hoping he can wound it! 

:'''{{#var:908|Gudako Ordria (908)}} has posed:'''     RUBBLE WALL     Luckily for Archer, the meaning behind his words goes over Gudako's head. For all she is concerned, those are just generic words that someone who uses that particular kind of magic says. For a magus, she's critically undereducated. 'Projection' isn't something she's heard of, or even practiced. The best she can piece together is 'oh hey, Shirou can make weapons, and this Archer also knows the same sort of magic, cool!'.     Maybe it's for the best, or she'd harass Archer as much as she does Shirou. It would also make her wonder where Shirou went to get that killer tan and if those are contact lenses and a wig.     As the Assassin denies her, she glances towards her Caster, and then eyes all the other people striking the tank-cannon-wielder up for conversation. She mentally starts putting the pros and cons of opening hostilities with him on a scale, before shrugging and continuing to smile, back towards Archer.     "I don't think he's here to fight us! He's an Assassin, and one with precognition as a skill too. It'd be very silly for him to do anything but ambush us! Assassins aren't made for direct fights, and mixing whatever his Noble Phantasm must be with his hiding skill and his precognition would make him a really kickass killer. The fact he wasted that huge an advantage means he's telling the truth and not here to harm us!"     She looks back towards Assassin.     "Am I on the nose, mister?" 8D 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER Lezard also seems to have overlooked the simple solution. Or maybe Zero was just more pragmatic than he was. It's all right. The Necromancer looks up as the door opens, and he walks in with the group and The Y2K Bug. Not that Lezard knows what that is, per se. He steps inside, looking about with an arched eyebrow as he considers the decor and the upkeep. "Cute." Lezard offers, moments before the guardian beast attaclks. Lezard is momentarily taken aback. "A... double cerebrus?" He asks, bewildered. "What is the meaning of this?" As the beast strikes across the lobby, and assaults Y2K with intense strikes, the Sorceror's eyes narrow. "Foolish beast! You have no chance!" There is a wash of blackness in his hand as he holds out his hand, and the Manus Catalyst manifests there in a a coalescing of shadow. "DARK SAVIOR!" He calls out, black blades of amorphous shadow manifesting in the air to spear downwards towards the construct. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     RUBBLE WALL     Well this worked out better than expected! Alexis a bit more cheerfully this time, offers up a hand to shake. "I wish you luck with that, then. Sounds like you got your work cut out for you if he's taken this long to track. I've had long hunts myself before, I know how it is." She says, "Alexis Maaka, I'm a contractor for Syndicate operations. This is my sometimes-partner and friend Kotone." She jerks a thumb towards Kotone in question, before she listens carefully.     "I uh." Pause. She overhears some discussion over comms before she glances back at Assassin. "Well, guess we're in luck today." says Alexis, before she motions towards the clock tower, and begins to scan at the scene occuring in view.     ... "This target of yours isn't some sort of guy with a screen for a bug face, is he? Someone was jacking our comms earlier, now that I think about it." She muses off-handedly.     "I think I can see some of our group, now that I think about it." 

:'''{{#var:880|Nero (880)}} has posed:'''      CLOCK TOWER      "I see. How odd." So many things about this were odd, but she would overlook the lion's share of the oddities surrounding this Rider and their immediate surroundings. For the sake of completing their overarching task, of course. They didn't have unlimited time.      Well, some of them anyway.      "I suppose that if you desire FABULOUS PRIZES, then the only course of action left for you is to-" Whoops. Rider just got whacked. The Saber class servant blinked once, then twice, and then turned her attention over to that six headed construct.      "How unsightly." Nero huffed, swinging an arm outwards and manifesting Aestus Estus in a plume of flame. "It is as if Cerberus multiplied. Perhaps Heracles should have made sure he did his job correctly!" Everyone who knew the legend of Heracles knew that he definitely took care of Cerberus.      Of course, that didn't stop Nero from using the opportunity to make ridiculous claims. "Then I shall surpass Heracles' legend with mine own two hands by felling a six headed beast!" Grinning broadly, she held her weapon with both hands, angled back as currents of flame channeled along the surface. Prana gathered, reinforcing her stance.      And then she charged. In a burst of inhuman speed, she closed the distance, be it big or small, and smoothly let loose a single stroke. "Rosa Ichthys!" It was a single precise slash, aimed at the neck. With no time to waste, there was little need for posturing. Nero would attempt to behead one or more of those heads in this moment. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Rubble Wall Kotone is starting to wonder what they got themselves into and she listens for a moment as he speaks of the servant's powers. "All machines like any and all?" She's looking honestly a bit scared and she looks to Makka for a moment then back to the Servant. "I may be at risk from this servant's powers then." She's already shutting off her network features at htis warning for all the good it will do. She's also seemingly taking in the information the Servant was willing to share with them and is making note of it. "No if he was he'd have blasted us on the way up. Also I'm Kotone Yamakawa sir." Alexis would find kotone's off the tac net now as well. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     Yuuki just doesn't get it. She doesn't get any of it.     There was a huge many-headed dog, which seemed to attack the weird guy who was creeping her out about as badly as her uncle coming for a visit, and then the weird guy being all sad and trying to get chummy.     Sorry, but Kuran Yuuki isn't buying that this guy is her friend. Sure, she wants to be loving and accepting, to help people, but this guy comes on TOO STRONG! Maybe he's secretly a creeper?!     Her prefect senses tingle at this potential creepo, and her sympathies...     Go to the huge six-headed hound. Which she approaches, her hand out, with a serene look on her face. "Hey, hey, it's OK! We just wanted to explore some to work on the se-" Her attempts at >Diplomacy-ing the Double Cerberus is cut short by the HORRIBLE DARK MAGIC of Lezard and the BLADE OF QUESTIONABLE FACTUALITY of Nero.     In fact, if Dark Savior is an area attack, poor Yuuki may be getting hit with it! Yuuki's affinity for Hounds is such a burden!     But it's OK, someone ELSE may be geanre savvy enough in this situation. Or it may all work out! Yeah, everything will happen great, won't that be nice? 

:'''{{#var:560|Emiya Shirou (560)}} has posed:'''     "From another timeline in fact. This world seems to be a possible future... sorry, that's a lot to work with out of nowhere." Why is Shirou apologizing to a Servant he's just met? Well, that's jsut him being himself. But the boy appears troubled by this news.     The magus appeared nice enough for a supposed enemy animalistic person? "Can't the A-RAYS and human survivors get along? I don't get what this conflict's about. There's few resources in a place like this to go around without having a war over them!" Or so his logic goes. The exact OPPOSITE is more likely in all actuality...     Consternated, he just presses lips together thinly, snorts (despite the rebreather) and looks around at the others. This just got... really complicated. 

:'''{{#var:527|Zero Kiryu (527)}} has posed:'''     CLOCK TOWER:     Zero knocks and the door opens. He casts a rather flat look around at the others, before stepping inside and holding a position near the door. Truth is, he's no expert on the stuff that's going on here. He figured out how to get in with pure common sense, and now that they're in... he has no idea what they're /really/ looking for, and he has few if any personal interests to speak of here. Searching his memories, he wonders if he should just start grabbing armfulls of things to carry back to the man that brought them here in the first place.     Privately, he decides that he'll let somebody else try to do that first. There's almost no way it'll be that easy. Unless... unless it really is that easy, just like the door knocker was. He glances back at the door, and those who will inevitably be coming through it. Rider already skipped right on by.     "Not interested in worshipping anybody." He asides to Rider, with a faint shrug.     Then Rider gets chucked clear by a great six-headed dog, and a couple of other people go screaming after it. Perhaps this is itself proof that Rider simply is not worth being worshipped. Isn't this kind of mythological beast supposed to be /three-headed/?     The best way to deal with a rowdy dog is not to indulge its rowdiness. Zero ignores the six-headed cerberus entirely, instead moving out to actually do his job as a bodyguard and tug Yuuki out of the area-of-effect of the incoming bad. This is actually a lot less passive than he wanted to be while dealing with this thing, but he knows Yuuki doesn't want her NORMAL GIRL act exposed, and she already gets splattered plenty enough to blow it wide open to some people.     "Pay attention, useless." He mumbles to her, as he tries to drag her about by the sleeve. 

:'''{{#var:821|Archer (821)}} has posed:'''      RUBBLE WALL     Rin blinks once before realizing he must have heard her speaking the words of her spell. Deciding to preserve the courtesy - as it would hopefully go a long way in forestalling a confrontation - Rin gives a polite nod of her head and begins speaking in German herself; "Thank you, though I admit I wasn't born into it. Yes, we had met an 'A-RAY', or at least I assume he was such. He asked us to recover whatever we could from the Clock-tower" she gestures to the structure in question, before giving a small sigh. "It sounds as though he wasn't quite honest with us about the reasons, though... or upfront at all, really." She also - rather worriedly, though she masks it well - the fact that the Assassin recognizes Archer in some way. "Ah - yes, he would be my Servant, Archer. Don't worry - he won't cause any trouble with out my consent."      Granted... that wasn't /entirely/ true, given his Independent Action skill, but at the very least Archer had no plans to strike unless it became apparent they were all in danger. Thus, leeping his blades to the sides though not dismissing them, Archer eyed the Assassin wearily... all the while contemplating on how many Servants may be active in what was quickly shaping to be another Grail War. However, he does take note of Gudako's claims and admits that she's likely correct - if this really was 'Assassin', and he used the term loosely due to the man's size and relative strength - then he would have just ambushed them. If nothing else, he was sincere about trying to be peaceful it seemed... though that said nothing about the possibility that there could be another means of attack out there - some form of ambush. Whatever the reasons or chances, Archer wasn't willing to bank on apparent good intents alone.      He also gives a rather pointed sideways glance to Emiya Shirou, denoting that the reason they would fight is obvious as he crosses his arms. "The scarcity of resources here is likely why they would fight in the first place." He lets out a cynical-sounding scoff. "After all... the other side cannot use them if they are dead. So the survivors will have more to use themselves... but by the time they realize their war is eating through the very resources they wish to claim, it will be too late to matter."      Rin grimaces at Archer's rather barbed and, likely, accurate statement on how this war is going to go... or at least how it will go without outside intervention. Though so far... while the sides weren't quite clear, Archer knew which one he would be assisting.      He was a Counter-Guardian after all. It wasn't like could pick any other side or walk away from it - if he could... he'd have done so a long, long time ago. 

:'''{{#var:662|Fake Avenger (662)}} has posed:'''      CLOCK TOWER      Rider makes motions with his hands emulating the emoji. He is delighted to find someone else who speaks Internet, though he only seems to recognize emoticons from the late 1990s. Excitedly, he tells Shin all about himself, though it's a little hard to keep up, because he's *making emoji with his hands*. Roughly speaking, he seems to imply that he just showed up one day, and his Master (whoever it is) was crushed by something, but he's okay, because he's VERY INDEPENDENT and the electricity is more than enough for him. "TO: besties@youn.me SUBJECT: RE: This Conversation Hi, Best Friends! Sorry I can't tell you about my Master. I don't really know anything about them! I never met my Master. :( But it's okay! I'm just lonely, is all. I'd really like people to worship me. I understand if you don't want to, though! Friends don't make friends do things. That's really bad! I don't want to be bad. A lot of people thought I was bad and prayed I'd go away, once...:( Did I do something wrong? I guess I can't help it! I was just going to eat the books, though! Or bring the robot friends in! Do you have a way to move them? That's cool! I was hoping to get some magic to eat, anyway. It's tasty. Yum yum! :d :) But books aren't. I just need a little and I can keep going for AGES! I'm a very independent Servant! Besties, Rider Attachment: yum.wav"      It is at this point that Rider gets whacked by the dog and is silenced.      Ira does a sensible thing and brings her hammer down on one of the dog heads. It howls in five-part pain, snapping at her furiously. Its claws are massive. It swipes at her with claws nearly as big as she is!      Yuuki steps forward. The dog, up close, does not smell like a dog. It smells like a construct, like the mice. It's probably not even a little real - designed to evoke sympathy. WIth her close enough, one of its heads jerks out to try and bite her. Fortunately, Zero saves her before she can be bitten or blasted. That's good!      Lezard Valeth ponders the mystery of Double Cerberus for mere moments before he throws black blades of shadow down into it. The shadows stab into the beast's back, elicting a howl of pain as Nero swings her blade for its neck. The dog, distracted by Lezard's bombardment, loses *two* heads. It attempts to bound into Nero, hard, using all of its massive bulk to simply crush her.      Staren's laser assault easily frees Nero. The light does EXTRA damage to the dog, shattering parts of it like broken glass. The black bits fall to the floor, tinkling and shattering. Gawain's Excaliber Galantine smashes through another chunk of dog, carving off the rest of its head.      Under the concentrated assault, the dog falls backwards. It cracks, light shining from inside it, until it explodes in a shower of black glass. The mice constructs go running away.      It was definitely not a real dog.      Rider emerges from the stairs holding what appear to be *airplane wings* attached to *hilts*. One of them gives off a very unsettling, demonic aura...but the other one is a holy, cheerful one? The wings are larger than a normal human could hold. "To: friends@here SUBJECT: Don't Worry! Hi, Friends! Don't worry, I'm here to help! Oh...I guess you beat it already...that's okay. There's more tower to explore! Also, look! Books! -Your friend, Rider :) Attachment: Books.bmp"      Rider's airplane wings vanish. He points down the hall the six-headed dog was guarding. Sure enough, there's books everywhere! Rows upon ROWS of books! But...there's also an upstairs, and a door at the end of the rows upon rows of books. Maybe this place is bigger than it seems...? 

:'''{{#var:756|Shin Tokuyama (756)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     Shin holds up one final emoji to the Rider after the full scope of its emoticon tale is gathered to him, nodding his head seriously. http://puu.sh/lHtRV/5e5ea87953.png     Shin then gets to at least grabbing one or two books to shove into his backpack to say he succeeded in part of the mission. Plus maybe, if this place is magical, he can find a book about punch magic. With plenty of QCFs and 720s he can execute properly for big damage. But he does it, since most people seem to use that much nerdier geek magic.     He's also really glad that crazy dog monster was taken care of while he was distracted emoticon-ing at the deity creature. Because it possibly could have kicked his ass. So that's one less thing to immediately worry about while he gathers books. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER Lezard, in fact, SPECIFICALLY CHANGES THE ATTACK PATTERN when Yuuki gets near the beast. He remembers some very specific things and has no desire to repeat them. When it detonates, however, he looks over to Y2K and frowns for a moment... then sighs, and shrugs. Perhaps it is the mention of being a god that is causing him irritation, but how could anyone take such a being seriously? When he confirms he does not actually need significant magical power, Lezard turns towards the Library, and steps forward. "Gather the books in a stack." He directs. "Put about twenty of them into a pile. I will send them to the one who hired us. That should keep him happy. We can dole out the remainder as 'new findings' and study them in the meantime." Lezard knows how to play this game. "After this, take what you will, and then we can explore the rest of the facility. We can seal it so no one else can enter until we return." 

:'''{{#var:915|Ira MacNally (915)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     Alas, it doesn't seem like Rider has a Master...or really /needs/ one at this point. Ira discards the idea of having him as a Servant, figuring this one with his need for worship would be waaaaay too high maintenance.     Swatted with the claw, Ira doesn't actually fall though she does absorb the full force of the impact aimed at her. She struggles under its weight, gradually pushing back and holding the construct at bay until Lezard, Gawain, and Staren can pulverize it into glass. "-glass?" Ira sounds surprised by this as she backs off with a limp.     Rows and rows of books don't really interest Ira, especially if they're just a bunch of /Earth books/. Instead, she ignores them and goes exploring, heading to what appears to be an upstairs area of the tower. She doesn't exactly wait for other people to follow her either. 

:'''{{#var:880|Nero (880)}} has posed:'''      CLOCK TOWER      Nero's strike land's true, removing two heads. But before she could boast, she found retaliation in the form of said construct attempting to crush her with it's entire body. "Wh-" She brought up her blade to defend and move, but a barrage of laserfire from Staren put that idea to rest rather promptly. "...Of course, I had that entirely handled."      Sure you did.      Once the beast was out of the picture, through their combined efforts, she couldn't resist chuckling. "Hmhm! And with this, I have surpassed Heracles!"      No you haven't.      Dematerializing Aestus Estus, Nero rest her hands upon her hips, smiling proudly before turning to face Y2K who...was totally okay. Of course he's okay, he's a Servant! But more importantly, what's with those swords-oh they're gone. Curious.      Putting that aside, the books were what they were here for in the first place. And so without further ado, she strode through to the nearest collection, browsing the spines for anything particularly interesting. She wouldn't just grab /anything/ now. She had standards! 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:''' CLOCK TOWER     "I'm glad to see you're alright." Staren comments to Y2K Bug.     And then...BOOKS.     So many books.     If he'd known, he might have asked Twilight to come. She'd love to see this. Plus, if anyone might know the library magic they'd need to transport this... library, it'd be her.     But he's here now. He does have an idea, but he doesn't think it'll work. Still, he tries pulling out the matter manipulator and sucking up some books... then he shakes his head and puts them back before clipping the MM back to his waist. No dice.     He wanders the stacks, looking for any books interesting enough to open. Anything... odd... might catch his eye, but any unusual treatises on the workings of magic in this world, or post-20th-century sciences, might be worth a look.     Yeah, their employer asked for books, so 'books' is what he'll get, as many as Staren can stuff into his bag (and several particularly large ones in the matter manipulator) on the way out. But while he's here, this is a great opportunity to find things for himself and do 'christmas shopping' for Twilight. Actual magic books, of course, are of particular interest, and if Staren sees anything obviously magical, he'll stuff it in his bag, or the MM if it's large. He can compare finds with the others later and see who wants what.     He tries turning his magic scanner on. It might be overwhelmed if it's in a place like this, but if it can pick out which books detect as magical, great. 

:'''{{#var:687|Ark Line (687)}} has posed:'''     RUBBLE WALL Gudako continues to be remarkably observant. Assassin glances at her. He smiles. "You are quite sharp, young lady! Yes, that is a fair assessment. Ambush is certainly the most effective means of using my abilities. If I meant you harm, we would have begun fighting already. I think I would be hard-pressed to defeat all of you, though!" He chuckles, remarkably good-naturedly. "Anyway, it's good to meet you all on peaceful terms. I have not had the opportunity to speak to many other Servants or Masters outside our own little group, either. Quite diverse company, all in all --" Assassin of Steel then starts to respond to Shirou, but Archer beats him to it. He adjusts his hat and bows his head a little. "It is not the resources they fight over; it is the right to exist. As I understand it, the A-RAYS have been systematically eliminating any humans or Liners who have the ability to stand against them. The Liners have lost a great deal of ground until very recently." He lifts his head again. "If peace were possible... ah, well, I am no diplomat; just a soldier, eh?" He turns away... and then pauses, when Maaka points out his quarry is remarkably close. He walks up the slope in the gap between buildings, looking down and frowning. "That would be him, yes." He swings the cannon down, holding the turret in both hands and narrowing his eyes. "Please excuse me; I have my duty to think of. I'm certain I will see you all again." He looks back, and smiles. Then, Assassin waits a moment -- and jerks it fractionally to the left a half-second before he fires. The sound of the tank gun going off is thunderous. It's /obvious/ in a way Assassins aren't supposed to be. It's also /really/ surprising, if you weren't ready for it. The recoil doesn't seem to bother him overly much -- but is his aim off a little bit? 

:'''{{#var:662|Fake Avenger (662)}} has posed:'''      CLOCK TOWER      Rider claps his hands as people start looting. He selects a few books of his own, paging through them rapidly before flinging them over his shoulder. As people talk to him, he opens his mouth and takes a step forward-      -into a fucking tank shell. The explosion sweeps him up in smoke and smog as a tank shell comes out of absolutely NOWHERE. It hits NOTHING except Rider - the shot came from someone wit ABSOLUTE precision.      From inside the smog...      "TO: YOUGUYS@OUTSIDETHISSMO.KE      SUBJECT: RE: THAT Hi, You Guys! OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW Love, Rider Attachment: pain.wav"      Rider then comes spiralling out of the smoke, both airplane wings burning along behind him as he holds them like swords.      RUBBLE WALL      The group gets a look at Y2K and his bizarre airplane-wing swords, jets fully activated and everything, as he crashes into Assassin of Steel. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is getting more information from the servant and she seems thankful for it;. "Humm I understand, I do hope we can meet again sir." The man seems interesting and she would like to wleanr more but that's when the fight starts and she moves back Not wnting to get cuaght up in it as the fight is getting going now. She sees the wings and the figth about to start but they can't get mixed up in it. She hopes it ends well for the German man, but there's not much else she can do and ther's work to do but his foe? She wonders about them as well. There's work to do and she's needs to get to it. 

}}

3359/Counting Up To Zero

2015-11-17T06:44:25Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/11/08 |Location=The Secret World <TSW> |Synopsis=The signal is tracked to an old Soviet bunker in Transylvania, and the man behind the curtain..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/11/08
|Location=The Secret World <TSW>
|Synopsis=The signal is tracked to an old Soviet bunker in Transylvania, and the man behind the curtain is revealed. Part two (and finale) of The Broadcast arc.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=7, 40, 42, 495, 513, 515, 525, 886, 900
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:'''             THE BROADCAST         Tier 3: Counting Down to Zero The source of the signal has been found. It isn't on Solomon Island at all. Thanks to a little legwork in equal parts by Staren and Dave Screed (who still refuses to meet or speak to Multiversals, on the basis that they're not insulated and could be one of /them/), the signal has been traced to its source halfway across the globe. This does not seem to bother Wuyin; after all, Agartha connects all places and times, so it should be a simple enough matter of finding the way there. It's only been maybe an hour and a half since the encounters in the Black House and in the (now redecorated) Solomon Island cemetary. People have had a chance to rest and recuperate while the tracking and triangulation is done, but Wuyin seems hell-bent on getting this taken care of now instead of later. It is not a task for another day. Who knows what kind of damage will be done if they sit on it? The correct Agartha portal looms ahead of the group. The knothole-portal shows a shimmering sight of dark trees and secluded farmlands, and of /things/ moving in the darkness just out of sight. It's hard to make out anything specific. Who knows where they'll actually end up? Wuyin steps through first. On the other side, a tunnel opens up, barricaded in one direction and opening up to the exterior world in the other. There's a sound of buzzing bees amidst the dense foliage around the Earth-side Agartha entrance, and the gentle, honey-colored glow of an Anima Well, visible to those with even the most basic of magical senses or aptitudes. The Agartha entrance is in the side of the tunnel, tucked just out of sight. Outside, a road winds downhill into a sleepy little village. In the distance, fog shrouds the night-covered land, obscuring the view -- but the sky and stars can be seen from here. The fog is normal, natural mist. There's nothing horrible about it. Within it, though... Without preamble, Wuyin walks up to a truck abandoned at the top of the hill. It looks old and rusted, with a flatbed on the back with wooden fence-like sides and dirt covering the bed. He pulls the door open with a squeal of metal, and immediately starts checking it over. "This might work. I doubt the source is going to be nearby." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa had made ready to follow the singal, it wasn't from Solomon island it was elsewhere in the world. Thankfully she had endured the crazy haunting and now they were in Europe, she'd never got a chance to go there before but? Well this wasn't a for fun trip and she never liked being in Agartha for long if she could help it. She's very happy to be out of the portal. She's looking about as Wuyinb has just arrived she does pause to look at the bees and moves ahead. "Nothing out of place with the local weather so far...but hold on let me help you with that." She's a mechanic first and formost and just starts going over the truck with Wuyin to see what they can find. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' After a few hours, Inga is fully recovered. At least physically. While waiting for Wuyin and his technology types to locate the signal, Inga had waited and mentally checked out. She'd sat, spinning yarn on a wooden drop spindle, her hands moving mechanically while her eyes stared into space. Who could know what prophecies where spinning. Once it was time to go, she put her spindle away, took up her staff, and followed Wuyin through the portal. "Where are we?" she inquired, looking down at the misty village below. Inga rose an eyebrow at the truck then, lips pursing. Well, it was better than running the whole way. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Despite the odd events of last time's adventure, Lancer of Black is still all too happy to come along with Wuyin's quest. They may have found the source of the signal, but not its true nature, not its arcane significance, and not whatever secrets it might hold. As a favor to Thomas, Lancer had promised to find out, and Lancer is not a man who makes promises lightly. The last promise he made ended with a man having his arms torn off.      He lived.      He probably wishes he didn't.      Nor is Lancer the sort of person who can allow supernatural horrors to dwell within his sight. As a Knight of the Dragon, it is his duty to exterminate the Enemies of Christendom, the Evils that lurk outside the Gates and would batter them down to reach the good and honest people within. While in his life he never faced monsters, it took only one look to see that the creatures of this world were within his purview to strike down.      Besides-which, there was the witch and her pagan charms. She may not have been a Christian, but she was an ally, and so Lancer felt some level of responsibility for her. A good person on the wrong side is still a good person, after all.      But none of those thoughts run through Lancer's mind as he steps out of the portal of Agartha.      The hills, the trees. The natural mist. The sky, the stars, the sleepy little village. The power that swells inside him as he crosses the threshold and feels himself burning from the inside with a strength he has not felt since he was conjured. There is no mistaking it, no mistaking those glorious hills, no mistaking the rolling plains. Like returning to an old lover, the Lord of Execution, stoic and noble in all things, falls to his knees in shock and awe, his golden predator's eyes wide.      Wallachia.      Wallachia!      "I am home," the Impaler Voivode murmurs, "I am home, Wallachia. By the grace of the Lord, I am returned."      Lancer crosses himself and lowers his head. He murmurs something very low under his breath, a brief prayer of thanks, before he rises, as if his shock had never happened. It is the way of the nobility to do such things, to push aside such public displays as though they had never happened.      Before, he had followed this quest as a favor to Thomas, and out of a desire to see the world clean of Evil.      Now it is personal.      Very. Very. Personal. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren's tests confirm that whatever just happened doesn't seem to have messed with any of his other stuff, though it may have corrupted his support AI. After archiving the corrupted copy for later study, he loads a fresh copy from this morning and is good to go. His armor didn't sustain any substancial damage from ZOMBIE COMBAT.     When at last they can see, Staren looks down at the village, around, and up at the stars. "Shame we can't reach any GPS satellites... any idea where we are?"     STaren follows Wuyin up to the truck to help. He's not a 20th-century vehicle mechanic, but he does have a lot of tools to apply to any problems they identify. 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     So back to Agartha, and then through another portal once again. Even seeing the immense branches and boughs of the great tree from within the planet, Yukihana Masamune seems in awe. After the events within the graveyard however she has decided to keep something of a distance from the Impaler Lord, the kitsune still moves with the group regardless, arms folded in the sleeves of her kimono.     Scarlet eyes take in the new scenery, head tilting as Wuyin finds the rusty old truck.     "I do believe he just said where we were." She notes in a whisper to Staren." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva's chasing along with the others. She's in for a penny, in for a pound like everything else she does. When Lancer arrives and Riva suddenly makes the mental connection, she kind of gasps. "Welcome home, Lancer." She wanders forward a bit, and pulls out some binoculars, looking out from the hill. "Hrm... Looks like it's become a bit of a fixer-upper in the meantime." She comments. "But it looks nice." She turns to Wuyin and leaps into the bed, prepading to help Inga up. "Let's get this rolling, There's no need to waste time.... Though are you sure this is going to run long enough to get us there?" She says, drumming on the roof of the truck. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The wisewoman turns toward Lancer, brow drawn together curiously. Wallachia? She has never heard of it. The landscape is pleasing, though. Lots of trees. Home? This is his place. It must have been some time since he'd seen it. Inga swallows a lump in her throat, thinking of her own home, wondering if she'd ever see the place again, and even if she did...if it would be unrecognizable from what she knew. However the Bees did it, Inga sadly does not know how to time travel. She looks to Lancer with sympathy. She hoped he would not have great horrors in store, but feared that migh be the case. If these were his people... "Let us go. If the signal is here the people could be in trouble. Inga was near enough to Lancer to hear his words and to feel sympathy for him. Near enough, too, to be pulled into the tide of his fate. Inga's eyes widen as she looks down at him. "This is your place. This is....Order of the Dragon, oh, gods..impaler," she whispers, taking a step backward from him. Riva is there, so Inga takes her arm, allowing herself to be moved over toward the truck bed, her eyes still fixed on Lancer. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "It's all rusty!" Complains a white-furred fox who hops up onto the truck's roof right after Wuyin yanks the door open. Finna has been in fox form since going throught he portal, apparently more comfortable in animal form at the moment. But she's still quite vocal! "Do rusted cars work? I've only seen shiny ones moving!"     This, if nothing else, shows what she knows of mechanics. NOT MUCH.     But she's drawn out of her confusion by... more confusion. Seeing the powerful spirit over there, Lancer, fall to his knees, is enough to get her hopping off again and prancing over to the warrior. "We're in your domain, spirit?" This concept doesn't seem to bother her at all, but she does give Inga a glance, head-tilted. The little fox hops up onto Inga's shoulder, whispers...     "What do you know that I don't?" 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Wuyin gestures at Lancer by way of answer in regards to their location. He's checking wiring, possibly to start it. Wuyin looks out the dirty windshield and says to Kotone, "See if everything is in order, please?" As it turns out, it is. A couple minutes later, and Wuyin has the truck started. It rumbles with the pleasant sound of a vehicle that will make them have to walk far less for the duration of their quest. Wuyin gets in the driver's seat and makes sure everything is in order. It seems to be. "The signal is trouble wherever it is heard," he says. Wuyin sticks his head out the window, looking back and gesturing at the back of the truck. He fishes a rag out from somewhere and wipes off the windshield as best he can. "Trouble here... is..." He takes a slow breath. "In Harbaburesti," he says, in that peculiar, off-kilter lilt his voice gets when something else speaks through it, "dark days fade into black, endless nights." Wuyin puts the truck in gear. There's been plenty of time to get everyone in the back, and they had all best be in or move quick. He's going down the hill, into the village. The dirt road leads into the village, and old and dilapidated houses line it on either side. Only one headlight works; it's enough. They wind their way downward, towards what looks to be an old inn. Suspicious men look out from the front door. The road turns into a 'T' intersection, with what looks like a large palisade gate on their right and a guarded gap in a fence on the left. "People huddle like medieval peasants, trying to ignore the yowling shrieks from outside, trying not to think about what moves just beyond the feeble reach of their lights. They mutter words like 'strigoi' and 'moroi' and 'nosferatu' while clutching blood-caked rosaries." He turns to the left, accelerating down the road and the hill. Dark eyes belonging to what might be a cluster of children (it is not, the ones with good night vision will say, but he still won't stop) turn to the truck, but back away from its passage. He passes the guards, who are too stunned someone is going out to stop them. They clutch rifles, with blades hanging from their belts. The truck goes downhill, into a narrow pass between the hillsides, and turns right along the edge of an abandoned field. Ahead of them and to the right, practically against the gates of the village, dark shapes move amidst scattered firelight. They're shaped like humans, clad in completely-concealing heavy clothing, but don't move quite right. They pay the truck no mind, occupied with... something else. "An army of loathsome hungers," he says. His grip on the wheel is white-knuckled. "Siege engines looming at the forest's edge." A few of the things move to the edge of the hill, watching them. Only the attentive will spot them. Scouts, maybe. His head tilts, and he looks in the rear view mirror directly at Lancer of Black. "War has come." The road stretches on, passing between shrub-shrouded farmlands. Wuyin gasps for breath like he'd just won a race. He manages to get his phone out of his pocket, thumbing it on blindly. "Check the -- the signal. Radio. Must be here somewhere." 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     Eleanor has had better days. She's had better weeks.     The big sister is mostly just along for the ride right now, eyes closed as she takes in the rumble of the truck, the jostling of the road, and the Speaking that Wuyin is doing.     The Sister's eyes are dark and sunken, and she's resting on Riva's shoulder. Not a good day. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     You might think Staren would make a big deal about seatbelts, but he doesn't. Once it's clear the truck is working, he climbs right in back, standing with his hands on the roof as he peers ahead.     "'Yowling shrieks?'" he echoes. "'Nosferatu...'" Well, at least he knows /that/ word. He gives the guards a curious look.     After the bees finish their narration, he asks, "Wait, where are you going, anyway?" He got so caught up in the scenery and trying to understand the message that he forgot what he was doing. "Oh! Right." At least noone can see how embarassed he is given his helmet and current position. He checks the data recorded on the drive so far, and points. "That way." He might even be able to give an approximate distance. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Lancer has never ridden in a truck before. He expects the experience to be not unlike riding in a carriage. He knows what cars are, thanks to the Holy Grail, and he understands modern technology well enough to get that cars are basically the evolution of carriages. Trucks, therefore, with their spacious backs, are also like carriages. Wuyin has even traken up position as the driver.      He is entirely wrong.      The bumps do not suit the dignified Servant. The dirt road rocks and rolls, thumping and bumping along. His lance, settled over his shoulder, bounds up and down many times, smacking him roundly on the shoulder with each motion. No, Lancer does not care for this form of carriage.      But nor does he complain. The Servant is noble and stoic, as usual, as if his outburst of shock, awe, and joy had never happened. He takes the truck ride in stride, unspeaking, unswerving. There are more important things to see, after all. Harbaburesti is a glorious and wonderful place, a balm to his soul after many years, and as the mist washes over him like an old friend he greets it gladly. There is even a smile on the Impaler Lord's face as they bump and bumble their way through the village, a wistful smile of times well-spent and well-remembered, times firmly cherished in those memories still precious to the Hero's soul. The smile persists right up until he sees the not-children turn their eyes to the truck, right up until he sees the things that stand against the gates. Right up until Wuyin looks him in the eye.      War has come.      War is not new to Wallachia. Lancer of Black was baptized in it. His very legend comes from an act of war so abhorrent that those beyond Wallachia's borders believed it could only be the work of a devil. But the creatures he sees are not men. Never has the Impaler been at war with that which is not the work of humankind, as far as he has ever known. He has fought the devils and the monsters of the multiverse, but that is different, so very different, from seeing it in his own homeland.      Siege engines looming at the forest's edge.      It is fortunate, then, that Wallachia's once and future Voivode is a siege engine unto himself.      He hugs his spear a bit tighter, his golden predator's eyes locked firmly on the things that walk like but are not men. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa sees Lancer's reaction and remains polite, it's the man's hone even if it';s from another world. She could understnad going homne even if this was another iteration of home it was still one's home. She seems concerned for the moment not about Lancer but it's clear he's home and that does get a smile. "Right lets see here if I can get this thing up and working." A few min pass. Kotone looks up from her work. "It's operational lets get moving I even got the thing hot wired." She moves and will ride in the back as she looks out over the countryside. She thinks for a moment. "Yet those things do exist here don't they?" The ride is otherwise uneventful for the most part and she wonders about the Bees they certainly have an idea. Then she sees the seige engines and the strange people. Then the comment hit her. "Undead on the move but not mindless husks like in Kingsmouth? God help us all." She sees The war has come and she checks her weapons now once more she knows they will be need. "There's a lot to do...I promise you this Lancer? I'm in for the duration with the problems here." She looks out for a moment trying to picture this happenin to New Port or Vancouver and she just shudders. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "War has come," Inga repeats, bouncing along in the back of the truck bed. Indeed, it is not dignified, but neither is struggling to keep up with everyone else when they run, so she will deal with the truck. Inga's eyes, distant and dazed, look out into the darkness. 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     Even when piling onto a truck, Yukihana maintains dignified poise, settling in out of the way for others to pile on. At least until it moves and she's jostled around squeaking like a mouse stuffed in a tin can and shaken mercilessly. Her ears pin back, splaying slightly when Wuyin slides into that oddly cryptic tone of speech, his words not seeming to bode well in the least.     She begins to muse that she may not like it very much when Wuyin does that.     But her musings are interrupted by glowing eyes in the darkness. She's a little too distracted by those to think of the guards.     "War with... Who?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna, in fox form, scrambles back and forth. The bumps and jostling doesn't seem to bother her. Her legs bend and sway naturally has little problem keeping balance even without much weight to keep her from slip-sliding across the truck bed.     "There are... CREATURES... out there. Stick close, people, whatever you do. Don't go it alone." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva has access to Google here. And with that she can point out important things. Like what Wuyin is talking about, even though she can tell Lancer knows. Someone doesn't get that look on their face just from that. "Strigoi. Moroi." She says as they travel. "Those are old local terms for the dead who walk. Ghosts who rise from graves. Or more specifically..." She glances to Lancer, and back to the others. "Vampires." In the meantime, she tries tuning her phone herself, trying to lock into the signal so Wuyin can focus on driving. "Just be careful, stick together. I've never been here before and we don't have the time or ability to go fight and win any wars right now." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Wuyin nods at Staren's direction. He follows the road, and then turns left onto another. This one worn, but paved. It's cracked and pitted, but it's a far sight better than the bumpy dirt road they were on a moment ago. Every now and again, it looks like something is watching them from the woods, or from beyond the hedgerows on the abandoned fields. Gold-glinting eyes are barely visible when they're there at all, but whatever they belong to is both big and doesn't want to come out to meet them. The truck stops at the base of a huge concrete edifice. A ramp big enough to drive multiple cars up side by side leads to a busted chain link fence gate. Beyond it, a road turns sharply left and goes further upwards, towards what looks like some kind of bunker crossed with an observatory. It's probably Cold War-era, but most people in the group wouldn't recognize that. It also looks abandoned... but maybe not quite so much, recently. Wuyin gets out of the truck to proceed on foot. He gets his phone and taps it till he has the tracker app he used earlier up, a pulsing green circle visible on the display. It's a lot like Riva's in that respect. There's a steady 'beep... beep... beep...' that gets faster as they get closer. Nothing stops anyone from getting up the incline, and once they've taken the turn, a rusted blue metal door greets them. It looks like a side building. The main entrance must be further ahead, but judging by the size of the place, it would have to be heavily fortified. He points his phone at the door. It pings wildly. Wuyin glances between Staren and Riva for confirmation. "This must be it. Screed called it 'the Lonely Patriot.'" The handle is attached, and it doesn't seem to be locked. This time, though, he lets someone else go in first. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Vampire.      The word alone sets Lancer of Black on edge. His knuckles whiten around the lance on his shoulder, and, were it not his own, it might crack under the pressure. Vampire. The poisonous word that had stained him so completely, he could feel it even now gnawing, clawing at the innards of his soul. A Noble Phantasm born of a lie, born of a sick delusion. *Vampire*.      But was it a sick delusion, here? The people of this land acknowledged him - knew him. He could feel it through his power. He knew, /knew/, that they remembered Vlad the Impaler. The dark shapes, the wandering monsters, the devil-creatures lurching along in the misty night. Was it so inconceivable that there be somewhere, some version, of Vlad the Impaler who truly was...? Who could really have been...? Who...?      He wants to scream. He wants to roar with fury at the mere idea. The merest seeping poison of doubt is a sickness of the mind, a sickness that lingers and festers as they drive. He wants to shriek out to the heavens that it cannot possibly be so, but he knows - he /knows/ - that it could. The celestial spheres contain many secrets, many tests, many twists and turns.      It is not unfeasible that here, Stoker's Poison was not a lie at all.      The thought wells up inside his magically-made lungs, swelling them near to bursting. But it made sense! It made too much sense! The Dragon-man's prophecy, when he looked at Lancer! The nightmares stumbling through the darkness! The huddling peasants! The guns, the blades! The children with odd eyes! The fact that even now they knew his name, knew him as Lord of Wallachia!      No, no, no, no, no!      But...what else could there possibly be?      Lancer's face bears little of this internal struggle as they pull up to the heavily-fortified building. It is good that they do so. It gives him something to take his mind off his own nightmares, off the image of himself clad in the symphony of the night, wielding arias of sorrow to torture the living.      If that was so, Lancer decides - if it was *possible* in the wide, wide worlds that a Dracula who truly was an immortal blood-soaked hell-monster lived - then...      Then he would fight that monster with everything he had. Even if it meant...      No.      ...maybe.      Lancer does not hesitate to open the door. Even if he's attacked, at least it is something to do. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "From rusty car to rusty place!" Finna's still in fox form as she hops off the truck and paces towards the building Wyuin's pointed out. She's not so interested in the front door, that's often the WORST way to get into a possibly dangerous place. And so as she starts looking for another way in. A vent, perhaps a cracked or broken window... just in case the front door happens to be trapped.     Then Lancer just BARGES IN.     So much for that.     Hair raised, Finna focuses all her attention just in case something flips out at them! She is ready for ANYTHING! 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is likely at the back of the group as they walk up the incline, obviously struggling a bit with the hill. She's making her way though, leaning on her staff as she needs to. Lancer is the one to open the door. Inga is already with that. She begins channeling her anima, ready, not sure what they could be facing ahead, but some wards would likely be appreciated by /some/ people anyway. And if that failed, well, there's always lightning, acid blood, blood spears... all manner of things! 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren hops down from the truck, following. "Why is there a /bunker/ outside a rustic little village?" Staren considers possibilities. "Someone from somewhere else either hid something here... or wanted somewhere to hide. 'The Lonely Patriot'? Sounds like a tavern. Who /names/ a bunker like that?"     Aaand the door's open. Staren looks around. Once again, they're going underground and he's the only one bringing along his own air supply. Hmm. Oh well, it's usually not mattered before, right? Most of them wouldn't want to suit up anyway. 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     Eleanor's got an answer for that as she shuffles out of her spot and sticks close to Inga and Riva. "A lot of the number stations had fanciful names, Staren. Russian Man, Linconshire Poacher, Attencion, a number of them had very distinctive characteristics to them to help ensure that the station you're listening to was in fact the one that was supposed to be transmitting to you." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is on edge she knows there may be problems here they will hve to deal with but is she ready to deal with things like this? She does pauses at the bunker she seems to know the rough style it's clearly Russian and very old. "Lonely Patriot?" She nods once seeming to get it but the door is unlocked? Oh she's not happy about it, she is uneasy. She follows Lancer in and she's flicking on the flashlight on the bayonet lug of her rifle. She looks to be wary as she moves in. "This might have primative computer systems then again it might be too old fror that I can't tell. Quiet place like this? You could hide some black project resarch base here in a bunker like this." She looks over to Eleanor for a moment. "So it was the same here too, Eleanor? Same thing happened on my world... I wonder what else is in comon hummm." She then gets quiet as she starts to look about as they move in. 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     When the truck comes to a stop, Yukihana seems ill inclined to get out. Clutching her katana very tightly, and wary of the golden eyes in the night, there is a brief glimpse to Vlad's predator eyes before she finally decides maybe it would be better to join the others than hide in the truck as much as she wants to.     Her gaze turns to the bunker now- though she's certainly not the first to approach it- and certainly dares not get any closer to Lancer, even while wholly unaware of his internal turmoil. "Perhaps we should--" Lancer opens the door.     "-Knock." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The door opens. The interior is dark, a state breached by Kotone's flashlight and little else. The room is large, apparently opening ahead and to the right. It's tough to see, though -- -- until something ignites the barrels scattered around the room. With a burst of light, barrel-fires spring up, providing flickering illumination from the interior of old oil drums and who-knows-what else. It's not much, but it's enough to see by, if not clearly. An enormous bulkhead blocks the main passage inward. It would take truly superhuman strength to breach it; the thing must be solid steel and more than a foot thick. Off to its right, another room opens up adjacent to it... a room flooded with red light, shining from somewhere behind the lazily-turning fan-blades set in round openings near the ceiling. It's cold in here, but the air seems hazy... There is a static hiss, and spectres manifest. They glide through the air, becoming visible in the red light, their bodies lined in a haze of electronic snow. Three or four of them go in through the front wall, over the group's heads, and weave through the side room and beyond, vanishing again with a louder crackle-hiss of interference. Particularly keen ears will pick out numbers, andlessly droning, amidst the noise. The ghosts vanish. The haze goes with them. The light, formerly red, is merely the firelight of the barrels. Following the path they took leads to a breach in the interior wall, bypassing the bulkhead and moving into the confines of the arterial tunnel beyond. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva charges along with the others, simply shrugging as Eleanor clarifies for Staren. "They were supposed to be Cold War things, right? That narrows it down, really." She follows the others in, the charged action from Lancer no surprise to Riva. He wants something to take his mind off of how bad off his homeland apparently is. But she, like Lancer, knows that she's going to be back. Unfinished business is the worst business. Once they enter, Riva looks around the area, and frowns. "This is a pile of crap. How is this place even ruuuu-AAAH GHOSTS." Riva yells, pulling her guns immediately. However, the ghosts seem unconcerned wit hthe group, instead with the odd noise. "Well... This is pretty spooky..." She mutters. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga continues on, following the others as the enter this 'bunker'. It is a rather depressing place. Not helped by the fact there are actual ghosts. More ghosts. Inga reaches to touch the iron of her necklace. "They sound...like the noise the radio makes sometimes," she comments. She knows nothing about radios really, but she's heard static before at least. Inga stays near Riva, in case they need to run. They've got a system now. The system is Super Strong Riva carries slow Inga. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Perhaps places just LIGHTING UP with CONVENIENT FIREY DISPLAYS is normal for some people.     But not Finna.     Her body FREEZES UP like a panicked cat as the place all but WELCOMES THEM. "Creepycreepycreepy..." And yeah, the floating spectres aren't really helping.     Her opinion COMPLETELY matches Riva's. So Finna steps lightly through the place, focusing her senses and spirit as sharply as possible for ANY kind of danger.     "We hit pay dirt this time. No more roaming around. Why was this stuff showing up at Solomon Island though if it came from here?" 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     Eleanor.... seems oddly at home with this sort of thing. At least the worndown rusty crap and crumbling infrastructure and spooky maybe not there ghosts. She shuffles into her medic's bag and pulls out the regular sized pipe wrench, the wrench bit at the end frosting over as she grabs the handle.     "Shortwave signals can travel very very far. It's the atmosphere, it bounces the signals more than once and you get propogation that can travel for thousands of miles" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "'Number stations'?" Staren echoes. He doesn't know what those are. His helmetlight joins Kotone's flashlight in illuminating the room. And then... LIGHTS! Something mystical going on. And then... GHOSTS! Staren hesitates to fire. Can he hit ghosts? He doesn't want to bring the place down with heavy ordnance... also, they seem to be static ghosts, What's up with that?     He looks around warily for a bit after the spectres leave. "Uhh... are you sure following them is a good idea? ...Yeah, I guess we don't really have a choice, huh." 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      It's hard for ghosts to spook a ghost. Lancer looks at the wraiths like sad, distant cousins more than creepy enemies. He walks along through the bunker, unworried. The firelight, though...that concerns him. Someone's living here.      Lancer immediately starts checking for traps. Mostly, he's just keeping an eye out, but every now and then he stops and pokes odd-looking objects with the blunt end of his spear, testing for tripwires, pressure plates, and other things. The Grail's updated information has been made most useful.      "You are already walking with a dead man. Walking with more cannot hurt." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa looks about and eyes the barrel fires for a moment she lowers her weapon slightly and keeps pressing onward she's falling back on what training she's got some XCOM as she moves to keep her wits about here there's something horrible lurking in this bunker and she dreads what it might bet. Yet here she goes because who else aside herself and those here would deal with this. Then comes the ghost and she nearly fires off a shot but she's able to just control herself enough she looks quite spooked though. "So...we're not alone the dead are not settled here I like this situation even less..." She gives Finna a look and ponders she paused at one bit of painting on the wall it was faded and cracked. Yet she knew the symbol. "That symbol this was a Soviet Union instlation. Who knows what was going on here is the cause or if this place was just used by something else..." At Lancer's note that he's a dead man she just kinda stiffens a bit becoming very doll like in her posture for a moment. 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     A building of stone and steel. How so very different it is from the small homes of Hagane Town, and the creaking wooden spelljammer The One-Eyed Jack. Yukihana is more intrigued by the walls and bunker itself once inside, than anything else, when no attack comes as soon as everyone is inside.     It is perhaps the spirits that make her squeal, practically in the same time and tune as Riva.     But when they vanish, she is left, ears pinned back, tail bristled and tucked between legs, sidling somewhat closer to Finna as a result. No matter what Vlad says, walking everywhere around here regardless of with who has her prettymuch on edge.     Perhaps she regrets coming now. But at least she's not bolting back to the truck. "Is there not any place on this world where the dead do not roam?" 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "Most civilized places, they do not," Wuyin says quietly. He has his macuahuitl out, walking along. "The dead are not supposed to walk. It is distressingly common in this line of work, however." Lancer's TRAP SENSE finds one dead ahead: a spot where something feels distinctly /off/. All he has to do is pass something into it, and... BOOM. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. Explosions, small ones at floor-level, rip across the room. They're enough to throw someone off their feet, but for an Elite, it's hardly ruinous. Annoying, maybe. Painful, sure. Embarassing, if someone had wandered into it. The tunnel continues on, deeper and deeper. It opens into smaller chambers now and again, and the static spectres flit this way and that at odd intervals, passing through walls and inevitably going towards the center. The numbers and the static gets louder and louder each time they appear. They pay the group no heed. The attentive, though, will spot something important: their numbers are increasing. At last, the tunnel ends in a door with a knife switch on the wall next to it. Wuyin moves ahead and throws it with a crackle of electricity as it makes contact. The smaller bulkhead slides aside, and electric lights flicker on on the other side. There's a stretch of tunnel ahead, leading to a second small bulkhead door that's already open. He waves everyone forward, watching their backs for any opportunistic monsters, and follows after that. The moment the last person is through the door, both slam shut with an echoing clang. The lights fail as one, plunging the room into utter darkness. Yellow eyes open. Silhouettes, a deeper black that stands out within the pitch blackness, are starkly visible. They look like children. They stare, and whisper, but the words are little more than a garbled hiss of static filling the mouths of whatever they are. The lights come back on a moment later. Nothing is in the passagway. The doors are both open. In the distance, beyond a dark stretch of tunnel, the shape of a tall man in a dark coat can be made out standing amidst the lights of countless monitors. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is grateful she is in the back this time, as explosions happen as a trap is triggers. Inga hates those. She winces at the sound, reaching for her knife, waiing to see if anyone was hurt. Inga would of course, offer a healing spell to anyone who needed it. Once Wuyin opens the door, she passes through, still sticking close to Riva. The lights go out, yellow eyes stare...an instant later they are gone, leaving Inga feeling distinctly unsettled. She shivers, grip tightening on her staff. Her eyes focus on the man at the end of the hall. Her immediate urge is to throw lightning in his general direction, but she does not. She waits and watches. Will the Bees have anything further to say? 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Okay, now the radio has Finna pressing a bit closer to the nearest warm body that's NOT Lancer. Which happens to be Yukihana. She brushes up against her leg, doing her best to hide just how much she does NOT want to be around Lancer now.     EXPLOSIONS go off ahead. But she's not worried.     Chances are, that can't stop a guy who claims to have killed TWENTY THOUSAND MEN. And if it does... well, she won't complain. It might be punishment.     But her steps get jagged and spaced out, as periodically she stops to listen to the strange sounds or stare at one of the spectres.     She SNARL-HISSES when the lights go out, leaving her staring at the distant eyes. Finna's JUST about to activate her Anima when - ... it's over?     "... Oh screw THIS. The spirits in here are just trying to scare us!" And it's WORKING.     She breaks away from Yukihana in no time at all, bounding ahead instead.     Right towards the man. "This place is hardly fit for the dead. What're the living doing here?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren does flinch when Lancer remotely triggers the trap. That would have been bad to walk into.     More static spectres. "What is /with/ these things?!"     And then... DOORS SLAM. BOSS ENCOUNTER!     ...With... children? Small silhouettes, blacker than black... "The Filth?" Staren raises his weapon, but doesn't fire as long as they make no moves...     And there's nothing there. "Ugh. Everyone else saw that, right? This is like some creepy horror movie..." He never liked horror movies anyway. After a few adventures like this, he's not sure he /can/ like them...     A man. Or just a silhouette.     "John?" Staren asks uncertainly, as the group approaches. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Lancer has seen cannons before, of course. The Ottomans had brought gunpowder with them, and Byzantium had responded in kind. Still, the explosion surprises him. His spear whirls upwards in a sudden, smooth motion, as if readying to defend the party against the cannonballs. He promised, after all. He wasn't here to do them harm.      Lancer takes his promises seriously.      Deadly seriously.      But it turns out to be nothing but sound and fury. There's a little chuckle that escapes Lancer's throat at that. It was an intimidation tactic! He was an expert in those. It's arguable that he's the greatest expert on intimidation tactics in human history, given...      Well, given to what he just admitted.      Not confessed. Confessing is for people who do bad things.      Still, when the door slams, a feeling of supernatural unease creeps over Lancer. The yellow eyes confirm it, and he's about to stab them with his spears when they vanish. Staren's question prompts a nod from him. "Yes. I saw it. I-"      The man.      "Be wary!" Lancer tells Staren. He's clealy on edge, and not just from the man. This bunker is getting small, cramped, and underground, bringing up very unpleasant memories from him, memories of iron bars and stinging whips and pounding fists... 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     This place is not doing Yukihana any favors when it comes to scares. Explosions too, are scary things, but by this point she's so preoccupied with the dead, that when the traps go off, shee doesn'y cry out again. She simply covers her ears with a wince of pain and a jump from the shock. By this point, Finna being so close is not minded at ALL, and she near cringes when the other fox departs. But with a sigh, she manages to regain her clam for what best she can. This is absolutely RUINED when doors slam and everything goes dark. And then there are eyes... There are eyes everywhere. Yellow and sinisher, whispering hisses of static laden terror.     When the lights come on, Akayuki is in Yukihana's hands, the pink steel of the large katana gleaming, held in perfect stance, albeit in trembling hands, eyes wide and wild, ears pinned back with agitation.     It is a very, completely undignified look, and with a nervous cough, she slides her blade silently back into the saya and swishes her tail once at the sight of the assumed man up ahead.     "That is who we are looking for... Yes?"     Someone please say yes. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is now looking out into the depths of this bunker of Godless Russian Science. She thankfully does not fall prey to the explosions but she sees whomever is here had made preperations. She will be even more on guard the deeper they get and she's getting the pickups over her cybercom. The cyborg is more and more unsettled by this. The talk over the comm doens't help her much. "Well it's working pretty darn well Finna!" Then stat "The Flith...? Staren be carful." At that moment she locks down all her systems from remote contact she'd not eve thought this might be flith based. "If it's the flith be ready ..." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The tunnel opens into a hallway. It might still be subterranean, but it is definitely a hallway; it's squared like one, rather than rounded like the tunnel in the rest of the place. Two people could fit down it side by side comfortably. It's lit by electric lights, but there's a grey sort of haze to everything, like the world was a step or two closer to black and white. There's a quiet hiss of static everywhere... and, more noticably, the sound of old radio programs going off from four different directions, in four square, high-vaulted chambers attached to the hallway, two to a side with wide openings leading into them. The two on either side open into one another. There's some kind of broadcasting and monitoring equipment in each room, lining the low parts of the walls. All of it's on, and plugged into shortwave radios carefully set out on metal tables in front of each of the four banks. Behind that, monitors or windows show what might be the station's power plant, glowing with a pale violet light. "John?" The man has a distinctly Russian accent. "No, I am not he. John..." He lifts a too-thin hand, his coattails drifting this way and that on a breeze that nobody else feels, and touches his chin. He holds up his hand, extending a long, narrow finger the color of bone. "Ah! The voice from Tokyo! He could not be here tonight. He sends his regards to a, erm, 'Chuck,' I think. But I also think maybe once word gets out, he will come in person, yes?" He turns around. Any illusions that he was alive are immediately dispelled. His body is far too thin, too angular, to be alive. His face looks more like a detailed mask with a too-wide mouth, moving almost unnaturally while he smiles. His teeth are black as coal. He extends one hand, and a cane or short staff of some kind floats up and into it, topped with what looks like a very old-style microphone. "I," he says, touching his free hand to his chest, resting it on the surface of a black, oily-looking mantle draped over him, "am the Presenter. You must be here for the show! Ah, but --" He raises that hand again, as if he'd just remembered something. Static spectres slide into sight, flickering and then stabilizing in front of the banks of equipment on either side of the group. Two manifest in each room, four to a side. They slowly drift towards the hallway in the middle. "The living," The Presenter says, with a touch of sadness in his voice, "cannot, I am sorry to say, listen to this evening's broadcast. So if you would be so kind as to, eh..." He waves his fingers in a circle, "...die?" The Presenter swings the microphone at the ground. The spectres move inward from both sides faster, lunging with hazy hands that leaves exposed flesh with what feels like a horrible flash-burn. At the same time, violet energy races across the ground and explodes upwards, filling the hallway with cold, numbing energy, and terrible, malicious light. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Could this be connected with the Filth? Inga would not be surprised, but she certainly hopes not. She has no desire to speak with the Filth again, ever, even if she knows it is inevitable. The man. She knows he's not alive. But that does not mean he is not dangerous. He has spoken to John. Wants him to come...so, how to kill a ghost? You don't. You banish it. "Odin's bones," Inga curses, specters surrounding them, the air growing numbingly cold. Time for some wards. Inga draws her knife and uses it to slice into her wrist, opening the vein so that she'll have plenty of blood to go around. She wards those who she knows to be mortal, first. Crimson is flicked around in a shimmering mist, delivering protection and a boost to healing. Now she needs to think. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     As soon as it's clear that this man isn't human, and that he knows 'John', Staren jumps to a conclusion. "There's more of you? Living messages?" Still, he watches and listens nervously as The Presenter continues his schpiel... and then the real fight begins.     They're surrounded. Staren's not sure if he can hurt spectres, so he targets the Presenter. Manifesting magic wings and hovering just over the ground as the violet light washes past underneath him, he levels his arm at The Presenter and fires the twin particle beam cannons at him. Maybe it will do something? They're going to have to figure this stuff out mid-fight... 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva is skeered really badly. However, one thing that makes people get moving is a good old fight or flight response. With a yell, Riva begins shooting Anima bullets at the back, trying to help keep spectres off the flanks of the heroes as much as she can. This isn't pleasant at all. "How the hell are they even doing this?" Riva yells from behind. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is going to have to pester more about John later though the mention of Tokyo? That leaves her very worried given what little she's picked up about Tokyo's current state on this Earth is. She braces her self a she looks at the presenter and she narrows her eyes. "No..." but then the dread feeling comes she feels the flash burn even though her real flesh is almost all long dead. She shivers as she now starts looking for something. "There's got to be something around here?!" She stars looking about for a moment the Zombies however get her attention she opens fire with her weapon trying to bring the things down... 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Cold, grasping magic rips at Finna's life from the floor... but the little fox responds to this by LEAPING SKYWARD and switching to the ceiling. A few spectres manage to raspingly graze her flesh despite her efforts to twist around them, leaving her shivering. But in a handful of seconds Finna's shifted back to human form... STILL stuck to the ceiling. Right above the Presenter. Despite all the discomfort and pain she doesn't lose concentration. A few waves of her arms in preparation... and she thrusts both down. Silvery strands of Essence silk grasp for the Presenter. Her goal is simple.     HAUL the guy off the ground and maybe break whatever strange necromantic magic he's got. And if not, then make him a sitting duck for EVERYONE ELSE.     "HEY BONES. Find a better way to greet the living or we're gonna find out what happens when you die twice!" 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     So no. That is not who they had come to seek. Not who they came to seek at all. This 'presenter', with his corpselike appearance and the announcement that the living cannot partake is worrisome enough.     Asking the group to die seals the deal.     By now, Yukihana has been about as scared as she's going to get. The gauge is at full, and the needle tap-tap-taps at the end og the metaphorical gauge. Instincts kick in- and with the doors sealed there is to be no flight.     Once again Akayuki os drawn, the pink-steel blade glowing a chill blue while a corona of heat forms along the edge as she is gripped by chill terror and the passion of desperation all at once, the very blade coming to life to match its owner as one. There is no more delicate japanese maiden where Yukihana Masamune stands. Now there is a creature in the wild grip of instinct and terror, and yet even still a master with the blade in hand. Though hands shake, the stroke aimed at the nearest phantom on approach would be enough to cleave a man wholly in twain as she hisses, uncontrollable and primal. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Staren's energy weapons hit the Presenter, knocking him back a couple of steps. Smoke rises from where he struck him. It looks like he /is/ a solid object, and shooting him is a completely legitimate tactic. By way of response, he sweeps his microphone stand scepter upwards, sending a ripple of hazy, static-filled air back at Staren's power armor, carrying on it sparks of the same violet light. The power armor is actually a detriment, here; something like that is bound to be full of the kind of equipment a sonic attack /wants/ to transmit through. Better not have your radio on! "The living have no place in this show," The Presenter calls with a laugh. "Message? I am the Presenter! These messages are /mine/ to send!" The static spectres strike, and Riva and Kotone strike back. Anima-powered rounds do wonders to tear into the ghostly enemies, but solid slugs do little more than poke little holes in them. It's like Kotone was shooting at a sheet. Technically, it's hurting them.... Yukihana and Finna rush into the fray with two different goals in mind. Finna actually manages to take hold of the Presenter with her Charm and lift him off the floor, leaving him open for a few seconds, while Yukihana instead strikes one of the ghostly apparitions coming in from the sides... and /does/ cleave it in twain, ripping the creature apart. The static spectre's two halves ripple, a stunned look on its face momentarily becoming peaceful as it fades in a haze of electric snow. "Tsk tsk," says the Presenter, actually waggling a finger at Finna, even while the silvery lines suspend him in mid-air. "You can't kill something that's already dead!" There is an honest-to-God laugh track, which might be the worst offense of the evening. "Besides --" There is a FLASH of vivid violet, a pulse pushing outward that sends anyone it hits for a loop for a couple of seconds. The Presenter is simply not there anymore. Instead, he's standing in one of the rooms on the left side, twirling his microphone and pointing it at the radio. "-- I'm just getting warmed up!" Static spectres flow out of the shortwaves. Instead of filling the room he's in, he opens his mouth and sucks them into his black-toothed maw, consuming the creatures. A haze of grey light fills the wounds he's been given, and they start to solidify into... well, if not flesh, whatever it is he's made of. The other three radios, Kotone would notice, /are/ creating more ghosts. They pour out and rush in, grasping and tearing at the life force of anyone they can get their insubstantial hands on. There are better than a dozen of them, now, and, well who knows how many more are coming?! 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Lancer did not know what he expected to find. Himself, the vampire of his nightmares, given form by another world? Some demon conjured from the depths of the darkness? Certainly not....certainly not this. This thing. This oily, unnatural thing. This thing threatening death on those around him.      Lancer does not hesitate for an instant. Superhuman speed and superhuman strength blend together as Lancer plunges forward, stake gripped tight in hand. He is angry. He is very, very angry. He is angry at himself, angry at the other 'himself', angry at his lack of faith in Vlad Dracula, angry at his lack of faith in his own name. What a weak-willed man! There were so many possibilities. So many options!      Lancer lunges. His stake goes jabbing forward towards the thing. The dead things are ignored - they're targetting the *living*, after all, and Lancer hasn't been among the living for six hundred years. Oh, no. He remembers quite well how he died.      "You are correct," Lancer sneers as he jams the stake towards the man's head, "You cannot kill something that is already dead."      "But I can make your life a living hell! Kazikli Bey ~ Lord of Execution!"      There is no explosion of stakes this time. No storm of spikes fills the room, no destructive force erupts from the ground to magically skewer the presenter and his spooks and his radios. No, as far as anyone can tell, Lancer intoned his Noble Phantasm and it did nothing at all, as he drives the spear right for the Presenter's head. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren leaves the Presenter smoking! Someone points out they might not learn much if he dies, but he doesn't seem like he's planning to tell them anything unless /they/ die, so...     Staren tries to dodge the now-airborne attack, only for spectres to go through his armor and freeze him. /Geeze/ that's cold! The distraction makes it hard for him to control his flight. A sonic attack screeches over his helmet -- he turns off the sound too late, and crashes to the ground.     "Not trying to kill you..." he croaks out, aiming an arm and firing four micromissiles that try to ram into the presenter's flesh(?) and explode. "Trying to destroy you..." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is not doing much against the ghost she gets that she listens somewhat to what the Ghost to Ghost host has to say but she's more intent on the radios. She's rushing awya from the fight her weapon's stopped and she's noe tyring to get to one of the radios and turn it off and if not she'll crush is using her hand given all the strenght her cyborg body gives her? She should be able to do that if it comes to it. "The radios! The Ghosts are coming from the radios!" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Even in a situation as dire as this, Finna seems to appropriate a bit of humor. "Is that so? My ancestors killed things that were never born! Sure you wanna bet on that?!"     Lunar Essence whirls and ripples, igniting from Finna's flesh as she spreads out her stance and arcs her fingers like claws. Upon her forehead the mark of the moon shines, but it's quickly subsumed under the intense glow. In no time at all her whole body's engulfed in a bonfire of light... of which only her vulpine eyes, sharp teeth, and silvery claws shine through. Muscles flex...     And...     WHOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!     If a single word could encompass what follows, it might be PINBALL-BLENDER. Okay so that's two words.     Lunars break rules like that all the time.     With an unearthly snarl, Finna blurs through the room quick enough to kick up a very noticeable gale-like wind. Back and forth, back and forth. She bounces from wall to wall to ceiling to floor without any consideration from gravity, a whirl of claws and fangs. Her presence is nothing more than an incandescent shape and looking straight at her is probably a bit blinding.     These dark-dwelling ghosts might not appreciate that.     They'll appreciate the Claws of the Silver Moon a lot less, chances are!     And so the Lunar works at whittling down the numbers of spectres.     But after a bit of that, she changes course. Those mighty claws are turned on the radios. Everything with a speaker she can! 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     Driven to the depths of pure primal instinct, the kitsune screeches. A chattering, gekkering, guttural sound as she follows up on the first strike. Heedless and uncaring for all the phantoms sap her strength with their chill touch, for a long moment she concerns herself with falling into the flow of her sword kata, so trained and second nature as to be seemingly ingrained into this out of control frenzy as well.     Her heart surges, controlled by fear and forced to fury she only dimly registers other voices as pink steel flashes and flashes and flashes again at every phantom that so much as gets in her path.     But this surge of such an intense and uncontrolled state cannot last indefinitely. Her strokes begin to flag, her breath labors, before she draws it in- and expels it in a white gout of foxfire a the closed radio, on realizing the are in fact the source of what she is so desperate to be away from right now. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The Presenter is in the middle of healing himself. He's focused on drinking in ghosts like they were getting poured through a funnel. Staren is the first to try and interrupt him, dropping micromissiles into his body and blasting sizeable holes in his flesh. He stumbles, and then reaches out again, consuming more of the static spectres and stitching the holes back together, albeit slower than before. As a result, it is not difficult for Lancer of Black to get to him; he's distracted, after all. And, as it turns out, Vlad the Impaler is very good at impaling enemies without killing them. The stake pierces the figure's head, entering just beneath the brim of his hat. It doesn't go all the way through, and for a second, it looks like he's simply going to heal around it. "Heh heh hhghk--" Spikes start to explode out of the Presenter's undead body. Its clothing bulges weirdly and bursts at the seams, spears bursting forth from within. One spikes his leg to the ground, and another one pierces the opposite leg from the first. More drive out of his chest and into his arms, then from his arms to his hands, shattering fingers and ruining whatever could have been solid in this poor soul's form. And yet, he does not die. The Presenter struggles to turn his mask-like face to Lancer of Black, the back of his head cracking and breaking as he turns enough to get an eye on the Servant. "C-clever trickkhh, but you are nnno Vvv--" Kotone destroys the first radio, crushing it bare-handed. It shatters, a construction of metal and plastic that can't stand up to augmented strength. The ghosts nearby wail and come at her, but they seem less substantial near it, only managing glancing blows instead of full-on contact. Finna's mad rush and her silvered claws end four of the spirits before they can get into position. More start to flow outward from the shortwave, but she gets it during her frenzied attacks against anything remotely electronic. One of the rooms is savaged by a Lunar's fury in a way that almost any given garou from another world would approve of. The tide is stemmed there, but not wholly stopped; there are still two more. One more, after Yukihana's panicked powers get through with it. The foxfire melts it into slag, igniting spirits as it burns across the room. They catch like dry paper and burn away like the same, wafting on the hot breeze as little more than spectral ash. The source of her fear -- or rather, the source of the sources of her fear -- has been destroyed. She can breathe... /slightly/ easier, now. The last one is in front of the Presenter. Ghosts boil out and attack the Impaler instead of rebuilding the Presenter's body, tearing at the mana that makes up his body to try and make /themselves/ more real. They don't get far; an anima-wreathed macuahuitl slashes through the air, hitting the nearest ghosts full force and knocking them aside as Wuyin finally moves in. In the same motion, he hacks one of the stakes off as it emerges from the Presenter's body and snatches it up in his other hand. Twirling to strike down another phantom, the (unconfirmed) Dragon attacks with his left hand at the same time -- but attacks the radio, driving the stake through the top. The Presenter looks on in horror. A look of clarity passes over his false face. "I... I did it. I..." His body fades away, breaking apart in fragments of violet light until it is no more. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     This is not a good day. Staren has been deafened and numbed. He struggles to stand, and his allies end the fight.     He stands there, breathing, listening to the ringing in his ears.     and then the infernal BEES do their thing. He doesn't need working ears to hear over his head radio, which he just turned off Morg dammit! He holds his hands to the sides of his helmet uselessly and doubles over. "Augh, not again!"     ...At last his head is quiet again, except for the ringing. "...So there's /more/ of them." Staren speaks very loudly. He almost has to shout over the ringing. "Turning people into things. Not as agressively as the Filth, but trouble all the same. We should destroy all of them before they can hurt anyone else."     Any comments that he should use his indoor voice, or any comments at all, are met with the query: "WHAAAAT?" 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      The Impaler Prince is pleased that his ludicrous trick worked. He wasn't actually sure it *would*. He'd stabbed a lot of things, but never something that wasn't, at least a little bit, real. So when the stakes explode out of the Presenter's body, there's a little bit of satisfaction present. He watches the man/thing suffer as he rips two stakes - his own and a second - out of the monster.      Evil men suffering brings him great pleasure.      The pleasure lasts only for a moment. Wooden stakes are of little use against the ghosts - they are spirits, and while the Presenter may not be alive, he wasn't entirely un-solid. The ghosts tear at Lancer of Black's mana, ripping away at his clothes, at his face, at his beard. Wuyin's timely strike drives them away as Lancer stumbles backwards, blood flowing from his face and his side. He's a Servant, so it's not lethal, but...      But not lethal doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.      Lancer leans on the twin stakes as the buzzing starts. It's an infernal thing, a thing he can't stand. It throbs in his head, in the back of his mind, as he tries to bend some of his mana to regeneration. No dice; it's like a curse. It will probably wear off in time, but...      But for the moment he must simply bear it.      Lancer straightens.      "Agreed. If there are more of these, then it is our duty to ensure they cannot harm anyone else." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa crushes the radio in her hands and lets the remains drop to the table she's about to turn to go after the others but in a fury of Elites not holding back. She halts though when the Bees start going again and she cups her eats for all the good it will do. She looks over to Lancer. "I agree we need to kill the radio star." 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     Huff. Pant. Pant. Pant.     It is over, then. Yukihana is still holding her blade, knuckles white for a long moment before her grip relaxes. It's an even longer moment before she remembers to return the pink-steel sword to the saya, and once that is done, she promptly, quietly lowers herself to her knees, lays herself on her side, and curls up into a small ball.     The fox is done, folks. At least for a little while anyway. It takes some time before she dares push herself up to seating, only registering the cryptic message of The Buzzing so dimly.     "S-stories tell... Of when a man dies, how if he puts all his mind and being into one last thought, he will linger after death until it is completed. I never put much stock into the stories of ghosts and phantoms before now but..." She trails for a beat, her next words little more than a croaked whimper, "What manner of man would slay himself just to try and contact the dead...?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna finalyl comes to a halt when there are no more ghosts to deal with. She didn't have much opportunity to see the punishment being meted out... but in the aftermath...     In the AFTERMATH, she once again is blasted by an explanation from those wacky bees.     ... One that leaves her.... just as confused now as when she started. The still-glowing Lunar blinks a few times as her anima dies down to a sliiiightly less-intense blaze...     "Uhh.... thanks? Didn't understand most of that... hope SOMEONE did..." Wars, radios, and weirdos obsessing over numbers? It's way over her head. "Aaaargh, why can't these puzzles be something I can follow." The foxgirl grumbles. "Everyone alright?" 

}}

3331/This Is Only A Test

2015-11-17T06:43:15Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/11/05 |Location=The Secret World <TSW> |Synopsis=A mysterious signal breaches the Solomon Island fog and is doing who-knows-what in the proces..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/11/05
|Location=The Secret World <TSW>
|Synopsis=A mysterious signal breaches the Solomon Island fog and is doing who-knows-what in the process. Two groups investigate. Part one of The Broadcast arc.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=7, 40, 42, 495, 513, 515, 525, 707, 886, 900
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:'''             THE BROADCAST         Tier 2: This Is Only A Test Solomon Island. The island looks as gloomy as it ever has. The Fog hasn't lifted, and tonight, the haze of grey seems more oppressive than ever. The tendrils of black that sweep back and forth in the distance, obscured by the fog, look more and more like tentacles grasping at the edges of the island than ever. It's unsettling. But this place has never been anything else. The portal from Agartha leads to a ruined viking longship sticking out of the side of a mountain, and a path from there opens up to a paved road into Kingsmouth Town proper. The town hasn't changed one bit in the year it's been since anyone was here in force: the dead still roam the streets, and signs of life are minimal at best. it is perhaps for this reason that Wuyin Tsai, the erstwhile leader of this expedition, does not enter the town itself just yet. He pauses in the treets, just as the path opens onto what was a main road, and turns back to the group. "Remember: we are here looking for the source of the signal. The numbers station seems to be piercing the fog. If we knew why..." Wuyin looks down at his phone. "The signal looks to be coming from this direction, further into town. Stay on your guard. I do not think things have gotten any better since last time." 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     Much like last time, Eleanor has forgone any of her heavy armor or the Sister Suit, relying instead on her lightweight armored jumpsuit, her medic's bag of tricks... and that man sized pipe spanner she found on one of her tips here in the past. Everyone likes man sized bludgeoning weapons. Right?     Though, she does have an old school Off Brand Walkman with a tape deck and a tuner that's listening in to the shortwave, the headphones hanging around her neck. "I still don't like this. If it's someone like those suits that were manning the black helecopters... those people didn't seem like the sorts to be trifled with..." She dusts off her pants with her free hand, and hoists the wrench over her shoulder. "Lead on, though, fearless leader." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren is here again... has it really been a year? Those poor locals... but... "But why did it only start now? What has changed? 

:'''{{#var:707|Xiaomu (707)}} has posed:''' "So how bad were things last time?" Xiaomu wonders, on behalf of those who are new to this part of the Multiverse. She's busy checking the current loads in her handguns as she asks that question; seemingly more or less content with her findings, she slips the pair of pistols into their holsters under her vest, then lifts the carrypack she's toting around and settles it across her back, the strap running from right shoulder to left hip. A moment's fiddling ensures that both sides of her vest are relatively free - the better to get at her handguns in a hurry. She's also got her usual Buddhist monk staff, and once she's finished settling her gear for the trip into town, she picks it back up from where it was somehow perched vertically on the ground. Maybe she wedged the bottom of it into the ground somehow ... Either way, she's basically loaded for potential heavy combat. What she *doesn't* seem to have, at first glance, is a way to follow the signal on her own. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva's been out and about since then, clearly doing some additional research on the issue. She's even taken up tinkering, the fruits of her labor clearly visible as she approaches the group. "Oh YEAH, Wuyin? Well, I'm getting an entirely different signal!" She thrusts her phone at Wuyin with a triumphant look on her face. The phone has a bent coat hanger with tinfoil on it taped to it. "And it says there's a signal coming from THAT way!" She says, pointing in the general distance of the Savage Coast. "So what do you say to that, huh?" Looks like Riva's being particularly beliigerant today. Is it just Wuyin, or something else? 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa knew she would back here and here she is once more on Solomon Island, she's far stronger than she used to be but it own't be enough she knwos that but the good thing is she's not alone. Shes' also got her own comm system open as she's trying to track down the signal. "Roger that I'm going what I can to track it Wuyin." Still Kotone was on edge she wonded now about Jack would they have to deal with the soul so wretched not evan Satan wanted it in his collection? "A soul so wretched that hell and heaven didn't want it and they preyed upon children." She notes to Xiaomu as she falls in with Riva. "So to the Savagte coast?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "I don't know how radios really work." Finna remarks in a complainy tone, whilst walking alongside Wuyin. She's doing nothing at all to hide her nature now. Her Tattoos shimmer and seemingly glow faintly in the hazy light, tail flicks back and forth happily enough... and yet she's adopted a somewhat skimpy, highly flexible outfit in local style that bares her midriff. But she's switched out her sword for a pistol holstered in her side. Why has she bothered swapping out gear and clothes?     Probably... just for shits and giggles. Or maybe to impress Yukihana or make Riva double-take.     "Does it mean there's some kind of magic involved? Whatever's making these numbers?"     As for staying on guard... with eyesight being of limited use in certain parts of town, she's instead focusing on her hearing. Both her fuzzy ears periodically swivel like radio dishes for stray sounds. The slightest zombie shuffle will NOT get past them! 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Unsettling though it may be, Solomon Island is more like Wallachia than even Doncaster, the town Lancer of Black currently has been administrating after a disasterous fiasco involving a serial killer. The Fog that greets him is not the same as the mist, but the small town has a rustic, isolated sort of atmosphere that greatly reminds the Impaler Prince of home. A small place that time seems to have forgotten, nestled away in the midst of a vast geographic feature, edging up against a huge set of mountains...      Small towns always seem to be the same, Lancer reflects.      Except for the zombies.      Those are not the same as home.      Lancer looks from Riva to Wuyin with his predatory golden eyes. He says nothing, his eyes eventually turning down the street.      It would be a nice place, he reflects, without the zombies. The tentacles of fog leave something to be desired, but it could be a nice place. A real fixer-upper, in modern parlance. 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     Solomon Island is... A place Yukihana Masamune has never been before. Mostly here as a courtesy and favor to Wuyin, who has been very kind to her, the kitsune swordsmith arrives on the old longship looking very out of place, before making her way to join the other. Rather than her usual kimono she's settled for... A serafuku. It was an attempt to seem more modernized. It really does not help, considering the red tint to her cheeks. At least it's easier to move in than her kimono, if inifinitely more embarassing to wear.     Does she seem impressed with Finna?     Not particularly. In fact, the other fox-woman's garm earns something of a bewildered frown. "Ah... I apologize if I am late." She's fairly on time though, it's just a matter of politeness as she folds her hands together in front of her. Really, no one mind the out of place fox-girl. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Wuyin pauses as he gets another phone shoved in his face. He looks at the screen, and then at the bent coat hanger and tinfoil, and finally at Riva with a look of mild exasperation. "Well, gosh, Riva," Wuyin says, "then I guess we'll just have to split up, gang." "I'll follow this one." He holds up his own phone a little. "We'll communicate on the local frequency. As long as we are all on the island, it should not be a problem." Wuyin starts to stride down the road, apparently ready to do this himself -- or expecting people to follow in his wake. ROUTE SPLIT WUYIN is heading to KINGSMOUTH TOWN to investigate. Given the urban undead, COMBAT is all but assured. RIVA is heading to THE SAVAGE COAST to be contrary. As unexplored territory, TERROR is practically guaranteed. 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     There's a glare cast between Wuyin and Riva. What's all this about?     Nevertheless, Eleanor smiles at the group and falls into step behind her erstwhile Sister, hopping in time to Riva's beat and murmuring something in the woman's ear as she catches up. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      A choice is cast.      Ordinarily, the Impaler would go with the Templar. His Order is descended from - well, organized after - that one. They are Crusaders most high, holy soldiers who bled for the Holy Land. That lends them a certain weight with Lancer of Black, weight only really matched by the Saint of France.      But Lancer of Black does not particularly trust Wuyin. (This is not an uncommon scenario among the Multiverse, though Lancer doesn't know that.) Riva is a Templar, and thus can certainly handle herself, and will probably tell him anything he needs to know and not hold anything back. Wuyin, by contrast, is a slippery serpent, prone to couching his words in lies and misdirections, and Lancer might never learn anything that lies down that path - nor does he entirely trust Wuyin to make good decisions. (Again, not uncommon among the Multiverse.)      Lancer turns and heads down the path after Wuyin. 

:'''{{#var:707|Xiaomu (707)}} has posed:''' Xiaomu looks between the phones with the apparently-conflicting signals, then leans her staff against her shoulder, fishing around in her carrypack for a bit before she pulls out a package of fried tofu. She closes her pack again, then carefully tears open the plastic bag, taking out a piece of fried tofu for herself before offering the bag, in turn, to Finna and then to Yukihana. "Xiaomu, agent of Shinra, liaising to the Union," she introduces herself - to Yukihana primarily, but also to the rest of the group's members whom she doesn't really know yet. Sure, it's interrupting some of the attempts to determine who's going where, but she might as well be SOMEWHAT polite before the groups go their separate ways. If that is indeed what's about to happen. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''      Just a bit tardy, Inga arrives through the portal, outfitted for the weirdness of Solomon Island. A myriad of talismans hang from her belt and around her neck, her short knife ready, staff in hand. She's worn her less than nice clothes, knowing she'll get covered in blood and who knows what else. Her white hair is neatly braided. Inga looks around, locating the group a short distance from the portal. "Hail!" she greets, limping forward, leaning on her staff for support. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren raises a scrutinizing eyebrow at Finna's choice of clothing, and considers Yuri's hypothesis. She's not going to put zombies off-guard with flirting though. Maaybe she just doesn't like wearing clothes.     Staren considers as the group splits up. "I guess I'll follow the original signal." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa cringes as they have to split up but she knows they have to. She'll look over to Riva and speaks up. "I'll head with Riva." She'll fall in making ready to go she does have a few new things like her remote drones but the little spy came is going to have issue like all wireless thing seem to around here and she also look to see Inga catching up. "Inga, should have expected to see you here." 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     Phones and technology are things Yukihana is slowly- slowly- beginning to try and get herself accustomed to. Living on a mountain practically alone for so long means it's not particularly the easiest thing for her. Still, introductions must be made, and when Xiaomu does so, the silver-haired fox-girl dips into a low and formal bow. ... Before accepting some of said fried tofu and beginning to nibble daintily-- though with something of a relished gusto. "Masamune, Yukihana. A pleasure." Given as her own introduction.     Finna however receives something of a mild glower, after her antics the last time Yukihana had met her. Nevertheless, she rests her hand on her katana and quietly sidles into the group headings along with Wuyin, while munching fried tofu along the way. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva leads TEAM TEMPLAR out on an ADVENTURE! They pass through the tunnel into the Savage Coast, following a road strewn with corpses. A couple of them are less dead than usual, but they're so slow that even Riva just shoots them in the back of the head as they try to get up, putting them back down. As they pass over a bridge, a massive woodland is visible to one side, but it looks... Dead. The sight of long, thick webbing can be seen on some of the trees, and ominous-looking totems hum with energy as people might or night not stray near them. However, the group passes without incident, Riva leading the way down the street through a small, peaceful-looking subdivision. Finally, they come to a specific house in a back area of the subdivision... but house is kind of a misnomer. The burned, charred husk of a home stands slowly crmbling to the forces of time, the area feeling... weighty. It's only now that the sound of the birds singing is noticed to be gone, only split with the occacional raucuous call of a crow or raven to break the low creaking. Even color itself seems to be pale and wan, the area bearing a powerful spiritual presence. The scene of charred flesh barely tickles the nose with its sickening sweetness even now. And yet, there is something else vaguely audible. Is that someone talking? The house itself appears to have two floors, the windows shattered. There is no front door, the porch as scorched as the rest of the area. Riva frowns, looking to the others present. "This is not a nice place. But it's where I'm getting the signal from." 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     Eleanor comes up short behind Riva and... and lets out a breath. "Miss Banari, Halloween was this weekend. It is not today. Why are we at an actual haunted house?" She grips her wrench tighter, the business end of the spanner starting to crisp over with ice crystals. A glance at the wrecked porch though, and she steps forward.     Ghosts are just fleeting manifestations of the past... right?     Right? 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga has decided to go with Riva, wanting to explore more of this Savage Coast. Upon reaching the house, Inga is not sure she made the correct decision. The place has a choking aura of terrible evil. Inga reaches up to touch her mjolnir pendant. "Thor protect us," she says, coming to stand beside Eleanor. " Inga would have offered wards to anyone who wanted them on the way. So long as one is not adverse to being smeared with a bit of Inga's blood, they were very effective. Inga's grip on her staff tightens. "Are there any nice places around here?" she asks Riva sourly. "We will do what needs to be done...gods know this place is under a terrible curse," she sighs. Alright, so she probably had picked the right group, if by right one meant most horrifying and thus where she was most needed. Inga is already on guard. She expects the Bees might speak soon, and she will become their unwilling loud speaker. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' "This house is definately registering on my Scale of Excessive Spookiness." Riva replies. "Too bad some things are spooky year-round, Ellie." Eleanor mounts the front porch, leading the way. The air seems to thicken around her, tension growing. Is something going to attack her? Fear nauseating hatred and choking sensations grow... And then something snaps, the air visisbly bending as Eleanor is suddenly physically launched away from the house to a distance of a dozen feet. Riva eeps. "Okay, this house is /excessively haunted/." She declares as she hugs Inga. to comfort her, absolutely, and not because she's scared. That's silly. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The part of the party led by the (unconfirmed) Dragon starts into the town proper. The road up to Kingsmouth Town is paved, strewn with abandoned, bloodied cars, and always within earshot of the wandering mobs of the undead. Wuyin walks up the road and around, skirting the immediate notice of the worst of the zombies by way of what looks like a well-practiced route among the low, wooded hills that border the road on the right. On the way in, they pass by a green sign with white lettering, two letters marred by a splash of blood and streaks forming a crude replacement letter:          KINGSMOUTH TOWN          DEAD Wuyin bypasses the road beyond the sign, moving off-road into the dark woods. Green motes of light dance in the deeper woods, tempting those with him to go see precisely what they are. He keeps on moving around the outskirts, eventually coming to a toppled fence into a suburban house's backyard. He steps over it, pausing by a gently creaking swing set. A red stain covers the seat. He holds up his hand, a finger extended, and checks his phone. There's a quiet beeping. "We're getting closer. That way." He points around the side of the house, down a paved town road flanked by houses on either side. In the distance, around a bend, the vague shape of a church steeple stands out against the fog. Behind them, withered hands grasp the edge of the toppled part of the fence. A second later, a trio of the walking dead rush around the corner, charging into the group with a hiss of fetid breath. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' So Team Team Templar is on an adventure. That is such a loaded word for this place. Kotone keeps with Riva and the rest of Team Templar, she pays note toi Eleanor whom she's not seen in some time and pauses at her words. "Eleanor has a very good point, why are we at an actual haunted house after Halloween?" She sighs and she'll keep checking her own comms to see if she can confirm the signal or not. "Wait excessively haunted by your standards?!" She looks to Inga again for a moment. "I think it's just this region is Hellsmouth I don't think this entire earth is this bad but we need to get going." Kotone takes a deep breath what was waiting for them inside? 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Hooray tofu! Finna's never had any before, but she grabs some and starts munching, expression turning rather pleased and happy Xiaomu's way! "Looks like it's our night to have fun here!"     But oh, it's time to split up. How harrowing!     Finna very visibly ponders on this one, rubbing her chin. But then she dashes off for Riva's team!     "Take care of the newbie for me, Staren!" She answers Yukihana's gaze with a shameless but friendly little grin and is off like a start, tail curling oddly and wagging ever so briefly in the catboy's sight before she's off.     It's so weird, watching that. As if, for whatever reason, one can just imagine the tail tickling them in the back. It might induce a mild case of the willies. But it's over in a flash.     Yeah, Finna's totally trolling Staren.     BUT HOW.     ONWARDS!     Finna's still on high alert with TEAM TEMPLAR and the moment she spots that house her casual, easygoing pace is jarred to a halt. Her whole body refuses to move onto the lawn grounds for a moment.     "It just HAD to be a place like this. Is it a GHOST radio? Can that happen?" 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     "BLUH." is the sort of noise that escapes Eleanor just before she's bodily hurled from the porch. Thankfully she's nimble enough to plant her wrench into the ground and stop her flight too far past the front porch and into the asphalt of the street behind them.     She grumbles and gets back to her feet and hisses. "Ghosts... proper ghosts, are simply energy and thoughts left behind, Finna. It's not uncommon, actually, for them to leave traces of noise in static and radio. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren shivers briefly. Exalted magic? It's not importantt right now. He nods slightly. "have you foughtt zombies beforee?" he asks Yukihana.     Staren follows Wuyin. By this point, the undead-filled city is a familiar sight, so his thoughts are focused on what could be making that signal...     Until suddenly, he hears a noise behind him and turns--     AAAH ZOMBIE IN THE FACE     Staren blasts it point-blank with his beam cannons, then tries to shove it off of him! 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Riva as she is hugged, reaching up to pat Riva's shoulder. "There there, I am here to protect you," she teases. "Are you alright Eleanor?" she asks, frowning gently. Eleanor can certainly handle herself. "If it is ghosts here, the spirits are powerful indeed. This is a cursed place...a cursed place we have to find a way inside, it seems," Inga replies. To Kotone, she nods, but still looks doubtful. "If you say so, Kotone." Inga still hasn't seen much of their world outside Kingsmouth and London. Grumbling, Inga approaches the house, stopping about where Eleanor was thrown. She takes out her small knife and pricks her finger, reaching up to draw a symbol upon her brow in blood to aid in her sight as she tries to examine the barrier, looking for what sort of evil ward this might be, it's source, and how they could perhaps get around it or bring it down completely. She'd overloaded magical circles before...maybe it could be done again. 

:'''{{#var:707|Xiaomu (707)}} has posed:''' Not remotely creepy at all, thinks Xiaomu, heading along with Wuyin and the rest of TEAM DRAGON. Then again, zombies are roaming hereabouts, and you kind of expect creepiness in the shadow of a zombie apocalypse. She's doing her best to keep alert in basically every direction, although 'directly behind' isn't a particularly high priority - been there, done that, moving on, right? That's why it's behind - SUDDENLY ZOMBIE RUSH Okay, so it's only three zombies (to start with), but Xiaomu immediately draws Suiren's blade free of the staff's shaft, and attempts to cleave the closest zombie to her into a giant block of ice containing two zombie-halves. "Should've known it seemed too quiet ..." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     DOWN goes Eleanor. Finna frowns. She -hates- ghosts. Or rather... she hates ghosts she can't see. Some ghosts are great, like ancestor spirits helping their families. But all too often, 'some random ghost' turns out to be trouble.     And she knows that any ghost that can do THIS is powerful indeed. But she claps both hands together and leans forwards. "Come on out, spirit. Show yourself, if you can! Unless you'd rather we kick you across the yard too. What happened here?" 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     That is a creepy sign.     No seriously, the old congealed blood splashed on the board does not help matters in the least, and that might be perhaps why Yukihana is clutching at her katana a little more tightly while wandering down the road, ear pinned back as she dips her head and keeps somewhat close to Wuyin through the trip. But then her ears give a twitch.     Did she hear something.     "I have not." She admits to Staren quietly. "I know of legends of the dead that walk, but I have never encountered them myself before." Added further. Before she'd given a chance to test her resolve. It's nearly just as she honestly answers that she's never encountered the walking dead before that they approach. Swift. Silent. Deadly. As the round the corner, it's almost too late by the time she registers them, earning a startled yip of shock and terror. And as a result, the action is almost wholly reflexive. The way her hand snaps to the tsuka of her katana, delicate fingers curling around the grip and drawing the blade from it's sheath. The draw and cut are two actions put to the same motion, a lightning fast draw and cut all at once, the silver-pink bladed ornate blade yanked from the saya and put into use in a neat, clean, and well-practiced stroke. Even in haste it is an elegant and swift motion that follows up after the initial cut, shifting the blade into a proper stance, held out to her side, grip held high at her shoulder, with blade perpendicular to the ground in a high stance. She's already panting from being startled, but won't be caught near flat footed again. Probably.     Hopefully. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Lancer glances at the splashes of blood, the ignorant zombies, the streaks on the sign. He does not care for zombies, but wasting too much time and energy would just make more problems. Lancer is well-experienced in doing what he can with what he has, and in conserving effort for better points later.      When Wuyin diverts, Lancer raises an eyebrow, but continues his silence. The Church is a welcome sight, one that is unreflected on Lancer's face, but *is* reflected in the sudden change of posture. There's a bit of relief there, as his shoulders sag a tiny bit, and his spear dips downwards, and-      -Zombie Rush.      Lancer turns, the stake whirling off his shoulders. Like a predator he lunges into the onrushing crowd, meeting the zombies head-on to cut them off before they reach the rest of his party. He was not surprised - not because a horde of zombies is not surprising, but because urban combat is something Lancer is *extremely* skilled at, along with ambush tactics, and everything about this place is set up for exactly that sort of thing.      Lancer's three-headed stake meets the first zombie with the force of fourty men behind it. Superhuman strength meets rotten flesh. Lancer whirls, dragging the zombie along with him on the spear as he jams the hunk of wood into another of the filthy beasts. His free hand snaps outwards, ripping a chunk of the useless fence away and driving that into the skull of a third zombie as his furred cape whirls around him.      The Impaler Prince is primarily concerned with stalling the zombies and protecting his allies. He slings the impaled zombie off the spear, hurling it into the masses like a bowling ball into pins - an ugly, smelly, fleshy, airflow-resistant bowling ball into walking, groaning, running pins.      Fast zombies, Lancer decides, are awful. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva has the dignity to look super embarassed when Inga pats her, and she lets Inga go to do the Wisewoman thing. The spiritual force is intensely heavy. Finna can almost /taste/ the Resonance of Death on the air as she challenges the force. There is hatred here, hatred that burned bright. That faint sound seems to continue on as Inga investigates. What she does notice is that this.... isn't a complete circle. It seems to be focused towards the front door. Whatever supernatural force is acting here, it doesn't seem to want to... Or is incapable of answering Finna. Nothing manifests to savage the Lunar, nothing comes to challenge her. Riva seems to be sort of hanging out over near the side of the porch, clearly Spooked Out. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The first three undead rush forward, and Lancer of Black is there to meet them. The Servant's speed is hard to match in most circumstances, and in this one, it's enough to get him out in front while the rest of the group is taken by surprise. Lancer lifts the first zombie off the ground, coming up for the second -- -- which Staren has already perforated, his beam cannons dissolving dead flesh and ragged clothes. He tears off one arm with the shots and throws it backwards, into Lancer's swing. The third is intercepted by Yukihana, whose iaijutsu leaves a deep rend in the creature's body and staggers it long enough for it to be pinned to the ground by the Impaler, where it writhes as its body slowly gives out. It does not stop trying to reach for her, jaws snapping uselessly and greyed fingers clawing at the dirt. This is, of course, not all of them. The fence, further damaged by Lancer's actions, collapses with a loud creak and a distinct 'thump.' The rest of the mob that was behind it scramble forward over it, another half-dozen of the creatures rushing in on the small group. Xiaomu catches the first of them with her own strike, cutting it from shoulder to waist. Ice spreads over it, freezing whats left into two pieces that get trampled under the others. Wuyin's response to the whole affair is to hurl lightning at them. Bolts of electricity fly from his outstretched hand, slamming into the ranks of the dead and leaping from each one of the creatures to the next. They spasm, but only one more falls, the smell of cooked and rotten meat drifting over on the sea breeze. Of the other four, two pile onto Lancer of Black, swinging their arms like clubs, while the other two, mouths open wide, lunge for Yukihana and Xiaomu with nothing resembling tactical thinking and everything pointing to their unnatural, unending hunger. Anyone who cares to look will see Wuyin beating a hasty retreat towards the front of the house. "More will come," he says. "We need to keep moving towards the church!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga freezes her knife, ready to touch the barrier with cold iron. She freezes then, eyes going wide, muscles tensing as the Buzzing invade her with their broadcast.      "Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see. TRANSMIT - initiate New England signal - RECEIVE - initiate the burning cadence - EXIT HERE IN CASE OF FIRE - initiate the forgetting mantra - WITNESS - The Black House," she says, her own voice and yet not. Inga moves then, tracing her knife in the air close to the entrance of the house as trying to draw aside a curtain. She begins to move away from the front entrance, walking slowly. "Come with us. To the abandoned house at forest's edge, not far from the Overlook Motel. Come with us. Ravaged by fire thirty years ago, it hunches in blackened, twisted agony, charred like an ant husk under the searing sadism of childhood. The house is quiet, an ugly aftermath. But we can read the writing of scars," she says again, that particular cadence belonging to the Buzzing, most here would recognize it now. Riva would of course, be intimately familiar. Inga stops then, turning toward the others. "It is not a complete circle. The energy is concentrated at the front door. I believe we may be able to enter from another way," she says, herself again. She'll let someone else lead the way there, then if she needs to throw some of her anima around to punch though she would do so. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is not shocked Finna's barged in first then again she's glad to let her to be perfectly honests and is keeping with Inga for the moment. She looks to Eleanor with concenr but Inga's already seeming to have it handled. She can't help but cringe with how Eleanor got tossed like that. "Doesn't it depend on the world?" She's now heading in she's going to try to find another way around the barrier. "There's got to be another way in.... I... Do we even want to go in here?" Well she's cut off as the Bees start speaking through Inga and she heeds wht htye say. "The Bees want us go go in, /lovely/" With that Kotone's going to move out and about trying to head around the back and find a spot where she can get in even if she's got to leap to do it. 

:'''{{#var:707|Xiaomu (707)}} has posed:''' Wow, that sure is a lot of zombies. And their skulls are clearly as full as their stomachs (i.e. 'not remotely') if they're lunging at a foxgirl who's got a sword in her hand already. Xiaomu tends to prefer fast-draw attacks too, but she's learned not to be picky; monsters are rarely so kind and thoughtful as to let you implement your aesthetically ideal fight against them. She stabs the zombie that's headed for her, aiming for its throat and attempting to encase it in a whole lot of ice as well; then she gives the resultant ice block a *KICK* that should send it flying back into the next wave of zombies like a bowling ball into a rack of pins. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     The three zombies are dropped almost as soon as they attacked. Staren blinks at the brief calm moment. Is it over?     The fence collapses in. It is most definately /not/ over. Xiaomu mentions grenades -- this seems like a good plan. Staren unshoulders his laser rifle, flips a switch on it, and then fires the underbarrel grenade launcher into the horde, far back enough that his allies won't get hit at least. The amount of zombies on them now looks like an amount they can handle, so he'll keep moving and focus on thinning the horde.     Staren starts jogging towards the church, one-handedly firing more grenades wildly back into the crowd. Glancing back at Yukihana, Xiaomu, and Lancer to confirm that they're doing alright. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      The fence collapses. That was fine. That let them see what they were dealing with. The fence didn't really keep the zombies out and it didn't really aid the party in dealing with them. It was an obstacle that kept them from targetting their enemies. That is bad.      The splinters fly everywhere, and so do the zombies. Two of them swing their arms like clubs at the Servant. He meets the first one head-on, taking a rake from their claws along his face in order to jam the spear up through its jaws. Blood trickles down the cut. It'll heal shortly - Servants never remained cut for long - but it would take up valuable prana, prana he could've used for something else. Annoying.      As the second one comes in, Lancer twists the spear round to meet it. Its claws slash against the first zombie as Lancer jams the stake into the ground, a makeshift flesh-and-wood barrier.      One of the shattered fenceposts leaps up into his hand. The second zombie gets a face full of this, as well, pinning it to the previously-impaled zombie by the chest cavity. Another two fence posts slam their arms together at the shoulder/elbow.      Lancer collects the last of the fenceposts and, with an almost criminally casual air, flings it into the next wave of zombies. It streaks through the air with false aerodynamicity, and will probably pierce the head of the leader of the new wave - and possibly the second, too, especially if Xiaomu's kick is successful. Lancer is *very* strong.      "Agreed," Lancer says, "This place is poor for defense."      He starts moving backwards, still firmly in front of the party to soak hits and tank blows, but urging for them to move away. He wipes the blood off his face - both his own and the zombie's - with handkerchief apparently concealed in his coat's pocket.      "Quickly, now," he urges. 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     Well if you wanted action from Eleanor... "Not a complete circle? What about a complete /sphere/?" Oh my.     She smiles rakishly at the others, trying to hide her fear behind false Dreamworks Smug Face, and /leaps/ up and onto the roof of the building. How does she know it's not going to collapse under her weight? Call it a hunch. She then tries to duck inside one of those blasted out window into the second floor. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     After pushing forward and calling out the spirit... then getting nothing... a shudder goes through Finna and she takes a few steps back, now uncertain over this matter. "Never run into a ghost that only just hurls you away from a place. Creeeeeeepy." Yeah Kotone might have something to fear indeed.     But she's not scared of a ghost getting a little rough and hurling her around. She starts pacing the grounds, circling the old ruins towards the right. She's looking for a window.     Looking for a window, and suddenly adding after INga's explanation...     "Inside the Trauma cadence. A bad thing happened here." Once her lips briefly pause utter SHOCK shows on her face but she lets the voice continue.     "Do you see what we see? Fire burns away so many guilts, but the ashes remain." Arms held at her sides and tail now flicking about, she cants her head and gives the group a sly, knowing look, tone shifted from her usual bounciness to a storyteller's recitations. "Do you see what we see? No one goes to the Black House. Kingsmouth still feels the guilt, and the guilt has a name. Have you heard the story of Carrie Killian, sweetling?"     But the voice is also weird. After a bit it shifts further into someone else's. Or no, much weirder than that. The voice of the Buzzing itself comes from Finna's mouth, not her own. Somehow.     That of the voice in her head.     "She came to Kingsmouth and built the house in 1974. She worked from home, offering consultation and help through pagan practices. In those days, everyone liked her."     Then both her arms raise up high in alarm! "Malefactor detected! There, in the pattern of the ashes. Eye and Pyramid. Do you see what we see?"     The hands lower down and spread out more welcomingly. "Carrie Killian was no fraud, but an independent practitioner of magical arts. This concerned the Illuminati. They did not like the way she observed the Innsmouth Academy."     And just like that the strange theatrics die down. Finna is silent for a good five, seven seconds...     "... Iiiiiiinga, you're contagious!" The foxgirl blurts, waving a hand ineffectually over at the wise woman. It's a silly manuever, but she gazes more fiercely at the old house than before now.     "Maybe there's something this Carrie doesn't want us to encounter..." 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     Quick as she was on the draw, this does not mean Yukihana wishes to remain and continue a fight. Her very first experience with the walking dead and... Let it be said it is perhaps what she hopes to be the last. As soon as the zombie she cut is pinned and impaled she's already backing away, sword caked with congealed blood and zombified fluids, she's a little more concerned with trying to get AWAY than clean the blade.     She's already panting by the time she rushes to keep up with Wuyin, daring not glance back unsure if it is the zombies she's truly terrified of...     Or the Impaler and his brutality..     Towards the church, then. And not even bothering to turn on the zombie chasing her she's already on the move, until she suddenly wheels around, drawing a deep breath. Immediately the stench of rotten flesh makes her regret the decision, illiciting a wretch and gag, before she exhales. And what she breathes out is a plume of white fire, the colore of snow, but with all the heat of a roaring forge furnance, as she tries to make a wall of flames and buy just a little more time on the path to the church. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Eleanor has a clever idea and leaps onto the crumbling roof. Somehow, her expectations are correct: She doesn't immediately plunge throug hthe cracked, decrepit shinglework, and she can swing in through one of the windows. The close one, however, happens to be missing something important: The floor. Meanwhile, Kotone penetrates the back of the house. Surprisingly, the back of the house does not cause the same reaction as the front, allowing her to investigate inside. Within the house, all color seems to drain away, the imprint of horrific pain and terror deeply staining the area. While it does not seem to be actively trying to harm anyone, the atmosphere is intensely stifling. the inner rooms are just as wrecked as the outer ones, with deep scorchmarks and blackened bits of furniture littering the area. There is a stairwell down into the basement, while another stairway, lacking a bannister and several steps, leads up to the second floor, the only intact room appearing to be some kind of bathroom. Up there, the sound is more audible: "It clicks!" A boy? "It Clicks!" A man? "It clicks!" A crowd?! "What clicks? The Eversharp-Shick Ejector Razor, made by Evershark-Shick, purveyor of Eversharp blades and fine shaving..." Is that a radio announcer? But the broadcast sounds like it's straight out of the 60s! 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's eyes close, but it is Finna the Buzzing decides to speak through now. The Buzzing doesn't want anyone to feel left out. A shudder runs through Inga as all the words register, a sense of extreme terror gripping her at what almost feels like a memory...the heat, the smoke, the complete sense of betrayal, the sounds of her screams... Inga begins to hyperventillate, not realizing what she is doing for a moment. She reaches up to touch the iron of her pendant, whispering a charm, trying to dispel the vision. The fact that she is here is here seems entirely intentional now. She thought she could feel the norns pulling at her fate. "Witch," she says quietly. "Eye and pyramid...Illuminati?" she asks, looking to Riva for confirmation. Bloody Illuminati! Inga sighs to Finna, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. "Unnerving, isn't it?" she comments, then begins toward the back of the house after Kotone. She certainly isn't going to be doing any roof leaping. Once inside, the overwhelming feeling of fear and pain intensify. For someone like Inga who is extremely sensitive the spiritual world, it nearly bowls her over. She reaches out to whoever is nearest to steady herself, her head swimming. Everything in her wants to quit this place. Shaking, she forces herself to push it back a little so that she can function, looking around, wondering if they will be going upward or down. " There's a sound coming from upstairs. It sounds far away. A radio? "Is...this the message you were getting?" she asks Riva, face pale. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Xiaomu handily dispatches the monster coming at her, freezing it solid with a skilled stroke and then kicking it forward. Lancer does about the same, but more brutally disposes of the pair first, catapulting another into the mob with something sharp attached. Xiaomu's frozen corpse (someone else's corpse, mind, but her freezing of it) smashes down the lead, and Lancer's hits the second, making a gap in the oncoming and growing mass of the dead crawling in from out of the woods and behind houses. Staren starts firing grenades. This is a terrific idea and a terrible one. On the one hand, the blasts start to scatter the groups of the undead, blasting pieces and parts forward and backwards and all over the place. Some larger zombie-bits actually keep moving, if they're attached to the head. They seem to obey that 'law' of the undead, anyway. On the other hand, that is very, /very/ noisy. Shapes start to pull themselves along from the beach, further away, cresting the hill and briefly visible as they join their brethren coming out of the woods. The swelling ranks of the dead grow, pushing inward as they move between two houses to get to the front yard, with Lancer between the dead and the rest of the group. Yukihana has a solution to that problem: foxfire, billowing up into a wall. The wall of flames cooks the undead as they get near it and try to push through it, filling the gap with burned corpses and still-flaming undead. Their numbers are severely diminished from that side, and they're terribly slowed even if they aren't destroyed in the chokepoint. Another lunges out of a bush on the side of the street at her exposed flank. Wuyin is abruptly there, intercepting its open mouth with his left arm. His clotheslining attempt turns into him getting bitten, hard, but he follows through, pivoting on one foot and swinging it into the side of the house. It loses its grip, and he rotates back the other way, his macuahuitl coming up in his other hand. Obsidian teeth slam through the creature's neck, putting an end to it in short order. He jerks his head towards the church. The path is clear. Up a few short steps, across the lawn, up a couple steps more and into the building... and there's safety. The wards on the door, small sigils in red near the bottom, will take care of any of the dead that follow. Except that the sound of the transmission's source doesn't come from /inside/ the church. A tinny voice comes from beyond it, audible in the otherwise-quiet night. There's a bang, like a gunshot or something being blown down, and a crash. A man's voice comes up a second later, an announcer of some kind: "Calling all adventure fans; calling all Dick Tracy fans. Stand by!" The sounds of police sirens, or someone's impression of them, fill the air. The announcer's voice continues over the sirens. "Here comes Dick Tracy now!" The sirens get louder, and louder... and it's becoming clearer and clearer that whatever the source is, it's coming from /behind/ the church. In the graveyard. Of course. 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     No florr is fine because Eleanor plants one foot against the Windowsill, snags the top of the window with her hand, and holds there like a ninja. Thanks Sports Boost. She's looking around though for the source of that radio signal. It's not the numbers station. It's... it's advertising. Awful awful advertising.     Though as she hangs there, and then hops to a 'good' bit of floor, she can feel... the Narrative bubble up through the floor. it's seeping out of this place.     This place /wants/ its story to be told, despite all the rest of this awfulness and haunting. There's a grudge on this place.     "Rumors turn to fact turn to certainty. This is the place of a devil worshipper, a witch, a barginer of men's souls. The pretty home is now a den of evil and house of iniquity." The words escaping her lips are hers, but the knowledge is not. She looks almost cross as her brain transits the Sweet Flowing. "One foul little monkey decides to come and poke the hive and then runs right on back to the rest, screeching about the horrors within." Even as the words come out and echo through the home, Eleanor's looking for the radio. It's got to be here. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Unwilling to be left behind, and intensely rattled by that experience, Finna puts a hand on Inga's shoulder in return. It seems Inga is not alone in feeling creeped out by this place. "Could be worse. I think your spirit's being helpful. This place, though... aaaaalmost feels like a Shadowland. Same awful shivers! Wwwwwwwuuuuuurgh." A SHUDDER goes right through her... and just like that Finna transforms into her fox form within a few seconds. White fur replaces clothing and she's vastly shrunk in size... but seems to have NO trouble at all simply LEAPING up onto Inga's shoulder. "We'll be fine!" She hopes.     As Inga's circling around, Finna LEAPS AGAIn, right through the second story window that Eleanor located and--     She yips in midair! NO FLOOR!     But it's not a problem. The little fox comes tumbling down through the air but executes a stunning spin manuever, going skidding daintily over the scorched floor and collapsed debris... SOMEHOW without breaking anything or even so much as disturbing more than a single cough of dust. It's an incredibly light landing and incredibly light steps she takes pawing through the house...     But this probably doesn't take her far from INga and Kotone's entry after all.     "... Should've guessed the floor would've collapsed..."     But Fox-Finna starts pacing around... and in almost no time at all beelines towards the basement. She has no torch or flashlight, but foxes have excellent nightvision. A silvery Moon sigil burns on her forehead and her brilliant anima kicks up just as she steps foot near the stairs... and freezes.     Both ears straighten alertly. "What in...? Carrie?" 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     There's a moment when Eleanor can find her own voice. "...She was a Chosen. She was one of Gaia's children."     And then the Voice blurts again, though now the Words are tinged with malice, somehow, something deep within Eleanor letting itself out. "Sometimes fuel gets spilt on the fire." A twisted, awful look on her face as she gazes down at Inga and Riva, an... an awful look in her face, dour and soul seering, as if death itself is being wrenched out of her brain.     "Almost 30 years ago, several guests disappeared from the Overlook Motel, and then the talking monkeys went riiiiight back to chattering. New rumours. New /truths/. The investigation proved Carrie Killian innocent, but the seed was already planted in the simian brains of the townsfolk."     A lilting lift to the voice, as Eleanor twirls her hair in a finger. "We visited a few of the mundanes, hovered over their beds and tried to warn them off the coming disaster, but they saw us...."     Malicious glee springs in her face. "...and lost their simian minds." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren stops long enough to sight a shot on the zombie chasing Yukihana with his laser rifle if her white fire didn't finish it. Then he runs for the church.     ...Which turns out not to be the source of the transmission, which has become an OLD TIMEY RADIO DRAMA. There will be time to wonder about that later. He shoulders his laser rifle and pulls out a spraycan as he runs for one corner of the church. "This can contains tiny machines!" he exposits loudly while running, "which are specially designed to detect the contagion and attack it!" After reaching the corner, he runs for the fence and starts spraying at the ground, a mist of water and disassembler nanites. "Although the filth does not seem to be composed of conventional matter, its physical presence combined with complete /lack/ of a chemical signature can be recognized!"     Hopefully, the science holy water trick still works, and any draugr that try to go around the church on that side will also catch fire.     Staren turns to look into the graveyard... 

:'''{{#var:707|Xiaomu (707)}} has posed:''' Xiaomu raises her eyebrows at Yukihana's display of power. Actual, genuine, honest-to-heaven foxfire? Xiaomu can't do that nearly as easily as Yukihana apparently can - she probably wouldn't rely so much on Suiren's ice magic if she had fire at her beck and call. More importantly, between the foxfire and Staren's grenades, it seems like the zombies are sort of under control for now ... And then the Chinese sage fox's ears prick straight up at the sound of the radio program. "Dick Tracy?" she echoes. "What year is it supposed to be around here, anyway? I haven't heard this program since -" She LOOKS way too young to have ever heard Dick Tracy on the radio; that was back in the 1930s and '40s. But then, given that Xiaomu's not as human as she (mostly) looks ... yeah. She cleans Suiren's blade quickly, re-sheathes it, and draws one of her handguns as she heads around to the graveyard, following Staren. She seems skeptical about the 'solution' Staren's spraying around, but if it doesn't work, she's ready for more zombies to show up and prove it. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva skitters along with the others, bringing up the rear. It totally wouldn't be proper for them to get ambushed by errant zombies now, would it? Yes, totally. It is not Riva being still Spooked The Hell Out at all. On the other hand, when Inga starts to collapse, Riva is there at her side, helping to steady her, even if she's a little shake herself. "This place is terrible." She mutters, and then looks over at Finna, stretching out a hand as the foxwoman not only turns what would be a faceplant into a graceful fox landing, but immediately zoomes into the basement. The basement, for what it's worth, is the worst of the area. If there is a such thing as a Shadowland outside of Creation, Finna might just be standing in one, as she stares directly at a faintly sooty spot. Is this where Carrie died, choking to death? Patterns seem to grate along her senses like electric teeth, trying to mesh into a whole. This entire area is full of a terrible story... And as Eleanor comments, a story that demands to be told, decades after it took place. Sometimes, reality is far worse than what our imaginations conjure up. Riva looks up at the unpleasant expression in Eleanor's face, shuddering a bit at that glimpse of what Eleanor /could/ have been instead of what she knows Eleanor to be. "That's messed up, Ellie... But the Bees... Like Agartha, regular people can't be exposed to them." Meanwhile, Riva looks at the stairs and moves to pick up Inga in her arms. "Hold still." She cautions, and then leaps up over the broken stairs to get up to the wrecked second floor. The radio continues to play, clearer as it seems that it is hidden in an area that is still intact up here. "Well, it doesn't sound like a numbers station." Riva comments. "But this is definately a broadcast." She pauses. "Waaaaait a minute. There's no power in here. How is it playing radio? Batteries won't last 30 years!" When Inga looks in an alcove near the shattered bathroom, she'll find a shortwave radio transciever in perfect condition, tuned to 6587 kHz. There are no batteries in the radio. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      The broken bits still move.      Lovely.      Lancer falls back into the church last of everyone. When everyone else has already gone in, Lancer remains outside, smashing through zombies with pure strength. Russian bare-knuckle boxing is a brutal thing even without the strength of a Servant behind it. Lancer does not move forward, only backwards, each step back accompanied with a fierce punch. Each punch is rewarded with claws and scratches raking across his arms, tearing at his coat and drawing mystically-emulated blood from his body. It only strengthens his willingness. The Impaler Lord smashes his fist through a head, spears another with a flat-palm strike through the jaws, and knocks a third from its feet by blowing out its knees with a fluid one-two. He holds the line, for that is what the Lord of Wallachia always did and shall always do. Holding the line against superior numbers is what he /does/. What he *is*. It is the core of his Noble Phantasm, the center of his very legend.      Finally, *finally*, Lancer crosses the wards. He is battered and bloody, though already Servant regeneration is kicking in, healing his wounds. None of them were to his spiritual core. He'll survive.      As the zombies collapses in front of him, Lancer stands, sweeping out his handkerchief again and wiping his arms. A brief, detached motion tears the ripped cloth from arms. He ties the cloth around the wounds as he starts walking, largely because no matter how great his regeneration is, old habits (like battlefield dressing) die hard.      He rounds into the graveyard, where the radio speaks. Staren runs past him with a watering can.      Holy water. The Lancer nods, thoughtfully. He has no idea what Staren is talking about, but holy water isn't hard to figure out.      He's currently unarmed, but that'll be rectified...shortly. 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     It can't be called much of a 'solution' and more of a wild panicked and half-formed idea. But when her foxfire seems to actually be helpful, Yukihana does not intend to push her luck by gloating about it. Merely pausing to rest her hands on her knees and pant as soon as there is a free moment by the church and graveyard.     "What is a Dick Tracy?" Asided to Xiaomu. 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     ...Eleanor, for her part, slumps against a scorched wall and sags. This was not what she wanted, not even in the slightest... and even if the Buzzing was... well, not an all out psychic attack, her brain in throbbing and all the /usual/ voices that crowd into her mind are screaming ever louder now.     She retches, and falls to her bottom, holding the sides of her head in an effort to keep the voices in. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks a bit startled when Finna turns into a fox and leaps onto her shoulder. Hey, that's not how this is suppose to work! The fox then leaps upward, only to apparently falls back down again upon discovering there is no floor. Inga looks up then at Eleanor, eyes widening. She was a Chosen? Then...how could she have been killed? Inga sways as if physically assaulted by the words, the story seeping into her bones. She already knows it, doesn't she? What a terrible place this is. What a terrible time. Inga leans on Rive for a moment, glad of her presence. She lets out a small sound of protest as she's scooped up and carried up the stairs, clinging to Riva in surprise. "Goodness, I knew you were strong..." she trails off, shaking her head. While Inga knows very little about how radios work, she can understand Riva's confusion. Following the sounds, she reaches toward the radio... Just when it seemed the Bees were taking pity on her, Inga feels their buzzing voice seize her again. Her spine straightens, a small gasp escaping before their words beging to broadcasts using her vocal chords. "When two mangled children were found near Ms Killian's house, it was too late. The torches. The mob. The intent to frighten away, warped by the compiling misunderstandings." Inga raises a hand, palm raised toward the roof, a flame appearing to dance brightly in her hand. She stares into the flame as she continues, dark eyes mirroring the flickering light. "The roar of fire out of control. The screams of a woman. The shocked silence of a mob that sees hell reflected in the flames," she continues, quieter. "Guilt distills into stories until it is palatable. A story formed in every mouth by the time the fire died. "House was already on fire when we got there, and she was at the window, cackling," mumbles a man over his drink. The city council arranged a quick funeral." Inga grows angry now, the flame in her hand growing larger. "No mourners showed. Carrie Killian was cremated and buried beneath a cheap gravestone," she adds, the fire winking out as she closes her hand into a fist. Inga lowers her head, shoulders slumping, her face disappearing into shadow. "The Black House still stands. No one wants to tear it down. No one wants to pick at the scab of their guilt. They cover it up with stories of wicked witchcaft. We listen as the sweet children sing the name Carrie Killian in their jump rope rhymes, the way they used to sing about the Black Plague," Now, Inga turns in a wobbly circle, spinning faster, her long braid whirling. "Ashes. Ashes. We all fall down." Inga collapses onto the floor in a heap, panting. 

:'''{{#var:707|Xiaomu (707)}} has posed:''' "Fictional American detective," Xiaomu quietly answers Yukihana. "Out of Chicago, I think - the Americans brought some recordings of that program with them after the war. Didn't really catch on in Japan, but it might have inspired a few things." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Seeing Eleanor's face get all twisted up is enough to make Finna prefer getting far away. And that happens to mean leaping down the basement stairs. Her sense of hearing is currently sharpened so conversations upstairs are still audible, easily.     But it's rather hard to focus on them. Scuffling around a lot and pawing at the soot and the dust and dirt.... she starts pacing nervously around a patch in the basement. "How... did a mob of angry townsfolk corner a real sorceress with a mere burning house? Could she not command the rain come and extinguish it, or shield herself...?"     But then she gets an idea. In a few moments she's once again in her human form, with a knife in her left hand and right hand outstretched, resolve on her face.     This might lead to nothing at all. She cannot be sure that the ghosts of this land will listen the way Creation's do. She cannot be sure that anything is around to answer... or even if whatever answers will be a good thing.     But Finna is prone to acting on instinct.     There's a flash of moment and Finna BURIES THE KNIFE IN HER OPPOSITE PALM. The knife's immediately bloodied... and she holds the bloodied hand over the place, letting a fairly copious amount spill.     In about ten seconds though the wound stops bleeding... not only that, but the flesh mends and seals as if there were no wound to begin with. And Finna claps her hands together.     "You who have fallen, answer the call of Finna Snowdancer. With this blood I beckon... appear before me, Carrie Killian!"     It's a simple ritual that almost anyone in Creation hears about as a child. But only a few people are brave enough to do it and for good reason. Ghosts are SCARY and the ritual is very unpredictable. Sometimes OTHER THINGS answer. Sometimes the target answers and is very uncooperative.     But no power actually compels the ghost to come. Only the sweet smell of life. Finna has no time to try burnt offerings and a more elaborate ritual... but the blood and call alone might be enough.     It is exceptionally potent blood, after all. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' No draug chases them up the street. The undead seem to be held at bay for the moment, but there's movement in the side roads and further down the hill. It's hard to tell if they're circling around or if they're amassing for an attck... or maybe the holy ground actually /does/ do something. It is diffult to tell if it's the church grounds or the 'holy water' Staren has deployed, but one of the pursuing zombies hits the fence-line and starts to burn, falling with a hiss and slowly burning away without a flame. It's not very pleasant to watch. "After that program's time," Wuyin remarks, when asked the year. He moves around the church, keeping against it, and looks around the corner, joining the rest. The graveyard is, while not an enormous cemetary, quite large for an island this size. A number of graves appear to have been dug up, leaving holes and wandering corpses amidst the tombstones. Larger statues dot the back end, and a picket fence seems to have been erected around the graveyard, only to be pulled down on either side by what looks like enormous, hulking undead, at least ten feet tall, hunched over, and made of too-much muscle. There's two of them, and they're surrounded by normal-sized, milling zombies. The radio is perched on the base of a statue of an angel, apparently weeping into its hands with its wings broken off. It's a yellow shortwave, playing endlessly. "This electrically-transcribed series of thrilling Dick Tracy Detective Adventures is brought to you by Quaker Puffed Wheat and Quaker Puffed Rice. Those specially-delicious nourishing cereals that give you trigger-fast food energy -- because they're shot from guns!" There's a sound like a staged gun going off. Something else fades in for just a moment: a hollow-eyed spectre of a woman, rendered in black and white, stretched too thinly to be mistaken for a normal person and drifting like a leaf in the wind above the radio. The ghost fades out again, and another appears, a man this time, on the opposite side. They seem to be staring at it with rapt attention. Wuyin looks at it quizzically for a moment. "We need to check that radio. I wonder..." He trails off. If Inga were here, this would be far simpler. Lacking her particular gift for this sort of thing, he walks back around the corner of the church, out of sight of the rest of the group, reaching into his pocket. There's a quiet click, a muted gunshot, and the sound of something heavy hitting the dirt. The monstrous undead in the graveyard look up towards the group as one. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren considers the scene before him. Ugh, the dead have literally risen from these graves. Clearly, the radio has meaning to those two ghosts. But what? And how did it get there?     Staren turns his head towards the sound of the gunshot. What? ...Oh. He looks back towards the radio. "Cover me, I'm gonna try something stupid." He starts making his way towards the radio, trying to avoid the aggro radius of the zombies shambling around if he can.     Once within conversation distance, he says, "Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs... Ghost. I see you enjoy stories... I enjoy stories too." He has to half-force a friendly smile. "But can I ask why you have not passed on?"     If the ghosts don't talk but also don't attack, he removes his gauntlets, pulling a pair of black-cloth-and-clear-crystal gloves from his bag and slipping them on. He holds up his hands in a nonthreatening gesture, "Let me get a better understanding... I'm not here to hurt you." Slowly, gingerly, he touches his fingertips to the radio. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      The zombies burn. Lancer watches. He's seen and done many more horrible things in his life. This is just another tiny little footnote in the grand scheme of the Impaler Prince's life. The radio holds little interest for him - it's rambling nonsense from long after his time, meaningless drivel from an age of swing. What *does* hold his interest are the massive musclebound undead - nightmares in fleshy form. Lancer suspects that they're about to turn on the party.      There is a thump. Lancer is proven right.      Never about anything he'd like to be right about.      The dead start moving. Lancer lets out a quiet sigh. He is unarmed, wielding nothing. The nearest stabbing implements are behind walls of muscle and milling monsters. He is wounded, though not cripplingly, and while he could feasibly leap over them and get to the fenceposts, he has doubts about their veracity as weapons against the musclebound monstrosities. Those things look...bothersome. Like something you wouldn't want to fight in close-quarters. Given that everyone else in this party was close-quarters...      No. No, not everyone.      Lancer gives some orders over the radio as he starts walking calmly forward. Though he is unarmed, he seems remarkably unbothered by that fact.      Lancer plants his foot upon a stone (it is not a headstone. He is not blaspheming. Indeed, Lancer is avoiding stepping on a *single grave*.) "Savage beasts that Heaven rejects, rejoice! Sing the Lord's hallelujahs, for salvation comes to you this night."      Lancer gestures, a grandiose motion sweeping outwards along the battlements. "Let my faith in God Almighty become the instruments of yor salvation, and tremble with joy as your souls are cut free of your blasphemous form! KAZIKLI BEY ~ LORD OF EXECUTION!"      There is no rumbling. There is no thunder. There is no *warning* whatsoever, except to the magically-sensitive, who might detect the huge upsurge of Lancer of Black's prana.      There is no warning.      Then there are spears.      Wicked stakes, identical to the one he was wielding earlier, explode out of the ground. They skewer the milling zombies, raising them into the air to wriggle helplessly. They tear apart the dead piece by piece, stakes dragging zombies apart forcefully at the seams. There are stakes emerging from the ground, stakes emerging from the fenceposts, stakes emerging from *other stakes*, pinning and hemming in and *shredding* as many of the dead as Lancer can target.      The musclebound ones get a special treat. Lancer spares no less than ten stakes per *limb* for them, stabbing at every joint he can find with pinpoint precision. Fingers. Shoulders. Elbows. Knees. Groin. Eyes. Jaw. Everything Lancer can target *is* targetted, every piece of soft and pliable flesh he can find filled with wicked wooden stakes.      Lancer himself does not move a muscle. He simply watches the unfolding, *brutal* horror with a dispassionate gaze. 

:'''{{#var:707|Xiaomu (707)}} has posed:''' Overkill has its uses, but that doesn't mean it's not cringeworthy. Xiaomu herself is cringing as she sees Lancer summoning lots and lots and lots of spears, stakes, or whatever they are. And a *LOT* of zombies get speared through as a result. 'Cringeworthy' is honestly an understatement here. The sage fox has seen some bloody death in her time - and occasionally been the one to inflict it - but that doesn't make it any easier to watch what Lancer is doing. She doesn't have the leisure of looking away, though; Lancer 'asked' her and Yukihana to lend some elemental support. So Xiaomu hefts her monk staff, slamming its butt against the ground to raise a loud jangle from the rings on its headpiece, and starts focusing ice magic against the largest of the pinned zombies. For good measure, though, she also draws a handgun from her vest - Not one of the pair whose loads she was checking earlier, but a black handgun with a white spot on the handle. Why depend solely on one source of ice-elemental power when you have a second source on hand, and one that's designed for use at range for that matter? She hasn't made much use of the Roc's Icebrand before, but this seems like an excellent time for it. So she uses it. Suiren's magic for the closer of the biggest zombies; Roc's Icebrand is used for the further-away targets. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' The Black House is a traumatic place. It is not selfish, however. The Black House is more than happy to share that trauma with anyone who cares to look closely enough. Eleanor looked, and she is left to the mercies of her reeling mind, having glimpsed again into the cruelties that Man inflicts upon Man. Inga glimpsed, and the Wisewoman was shown that no matter how far mankind progresses, there are always throwbacks, history repeating over and over in the shrieking fires, simian brains unwilling to let go of the freedom and cruelty of mob mentality, to punish the Other and the Outcast. Riva kneels next to her, hugging her and whispering words of comfort. Perhaps only Time can mend those wounds, however, before it cruelly tears them open again. Later, Riva will take the radio with them on the way out to show to Wuyin and compare notes. Provided he's not dead at the time. You never know with him. Finna, however. the clever fox. The crafty fox. The fox who played at being wolf. The Lunar cries out, half-remembered rituals and incomplete incantations sweetened with the delicious scent of life. There are reasons why the rituals exist. THE LINES EXIST FOR YOUR PROTECTION. There is a rumble in the house as it creaks, then shakes as a flame explodes in the air, a howling, burning spectre rippling before the foxwoman for moments before it plunges into the wall. The apparition vanishes. The fire does not. Quickly, the flames begin to spread against reason and logic, consuming that which is already burned, travelling up walls that do not exist. The Black House burns once more, a rapidly spreading ghostfire that water will not quench. Riva promptly picks up Inga and the radio and explodes towards the door with anima-quickened speed, rushing to get the wisewoman to safety. The others can take care of themsevles, she is sure. If they can't, she'll be back for them. 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     If there's one things simple simain brains can remember, it's that fire is bad. Fire is really bad, and that is enough to shake Eleanor from parts of her mental cacophany. Enough of the voices are screaming at her to run that she wobbles up and looks around at the rapidly burning room, staggering up to her feet and gasp-choking out.     And then she's rumbling stumbling through the way she came, the heavy weight of her spanner an anchor rather than a shield now. More of a stumble than a rumble though, as she mis-judges a jump and pitches right through a wall of flames and into the first floor of the house... and then is catapulted out the front door of the ruins, smouldering.     Her skin crisps and boils, but does not burn away. A living candle that smells like bacon. 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     So the radio is making about zilch all sense for Yukihana. Even with Xiaomu's explanation. The graveyard is ominous and eerie to her even despite the small size, and perhaps for that reason she's lingering somewhat closer to the other fox when she hears the click.     The gunshot makes her shump, scarlet eyes darting wildly for the source. "Did... Did not Wuyin go in that direction?" She does note.     There is, however, apparently little time to ruminate on the thought. Ordered thusly by the Impaler to await instruction and then douse someplace with her foxfire. And then she cringes. The sudden blooming eruption of spears from the very earth earns another wince, but she draws her breath regardless. A deep breath, this time with less of the wretch from before as she expels it- into the mass of impaled undead, long plumes of white fire reaching out in a burning cloud of foxfire forge heat. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Suddenly there is fire again. Inga isn't sure anymore if it is real or if she's slipped into a vision of the past. Perhaps she'll relive Carrie's terror and pain again and again. Riva scoops her up again, Inga clinging to her staff to make sure it isn't left behind. Inga is set down on the ground by Riva, staying where she is, looking at the burning house. Flames that don't consume, only remind. "Let it. Let is burn, let it stand. Let it /scream/ a reminder that will never be forgotten," Inga says with venom. Needless to say, she's pissed, feeling something of a personal connection with the victim. She's not in any mood to try to purify the place. She has a curse on her lips, ready to fly. There were people still inside, however. Friends. They may be hurt. "Riva...Eleanor, Finna..." she says, looking from her to the house. Eleanor launches out, so there is that. She's hurt. She's on FIRE. Blood is kind of like water, right? Inga reaches for her knife and plunges it into middle. She's going to need a lot of blood for this. Crimson soaks her dress, but is then pulled from her wound by her will, flinging outward in a fine, shimmering mist toward Eleanor, trying to both heal her and put out the flames. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna has heard tales of strange things answering the beckoning call. The wrong ghost. Too many ghosts. Sometimes plasmic animals that are scary but mostly harmless. MOST of the time the right ghost answers in ideal circumstances.     But there are things and phenomena in this world that Finna did not account for. Phantoms of power and freakish violence that do not manifest as she's expecting and do something she didn't think a ghost could do.     Oooooooooooops.     At first, eyes go wide. She takes a few steps back, knowing that this should not cause the HOUSE to react. Or start a fire. Her lips peel back in that very universal 'oh crap' way, a nervous fight or flight grin sparking up...     And then the worst possible vision of burning HORROR erupts-- "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"     ... And scares the bezoozles right out of her.     It is a rare thing indeed, but everyone upstairs gets treated to the rare sight of Finna, in HUMAN FORM, scampering up the stairs in an impossible 'four legged' style, not even thinking about what form she's in. She vaults and leaps, shrieking at the top of her lungs!     "OUT OUT OUT OUT OUT OUTOUTOUTOUTNOWNOWNOW!!"     And bolts for the nearest window! 

:'''{{#var:40|Eleanor Lamb (40)}} has posed:'''     The blood... well yeah, the healing field with extinguish Eleanor. She's healing just fine on her own though. Her body always heals.     There's a dull, pained look in her face though, and she doesn't much feel like moving. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga moves over toward Eleanor, staying near to comfort her, offering a hand. "Yes...I know," she says quietly. "I know." Inga looks to Finna as she runs out, eyes widening slightly. She shakes her head, motions her over. There might need to be some kind of group hug of support. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna's very shaken. Like a kid who's about to face parental judgement, that's how she looks at the moment. But she saunters over to Inga and Eleanor and plops down near them, grasping both. They're outside and it's apparently safe, but she's not letting her guard down... 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' A forest of spikes envelops the graveyard. Wooden spikes erupt from the ground in every direction, filling the bounded space meant for the dead. In a way, it still is -- the undead are there, and trapped within... because they are pinned, impaled, spiked and, in all ways, rendered immobile by the precision use of Vlad the Impaler's Noble Phantasm. The scene is gruesome. The zombies aren't even necessarily killed when the spikes strike upwards into them. They're twitching, flailing and writhing, suspended in the air and born downward by their own weight and the motion of their bodies as the stake presses deeper into their decomposing forms. Blood and other things slide down the stakes, the innards of the worst of them emptied onto the ground. Very few have their heads struck clean through, and are still. Forgefire heat and frigid cold reach out to encompass them. The cold freezes their bodies to the bone, frost and ice forming on the bodies and the stakes. The fire burns, scorches and sizzles, the moist island air condensed and then flash-boiled off their bones. It turns into a mixed vision of white fire, tinged an unnatural blue by whatever it is burns in the dead, and immobilizing cold, preventing the largest from going anywhere. The behemoths, the hulking corpses, are stabbed from dozens of angles until they resemble insects on a board pinned by an overenthusiastic child. They still move, bodies tearing as they try to fight their way free of the mass of stakes. It isn't until the cold and then the fire reaches them that they stop, reduced to blackened husks standing on frozen, cracking ground. A light mist, unrelated to the fog, settles over the graveyard from the conflicting elements. It, thankfully, obscures the worst of the carnage from the outside. Staren, though, goes to find the radio. The ghosts don't respond, but he can see two things about it immediately. The first, its frequency, set to '6236 kHz'; the second, the total lack of any sort of batteries or power source. The radio program has carried on with gusto, recounting adventures not heard from one of these in decades. The ghosts manifest all at once. A dozen of them, spectres all, surrounding him. They look down with hollow, blackened eye sockets and mouths that are a terrible void. Each moves with an odd fluidity in the air, unrestricted by gravity. They slowly descend... His gloves take hold of the radio. He doesn't see anything. Dawn, his Muse, does. "Entities made of signals. Beings made of message." Dawn's voice is dischordant, multitudinous, glitching madly. It takes up all his awareness. It plays out over his short-range radio. He can't seem to stop it. "It tickles our empathy! We flirt with those heady strings of numbers, those cosmic sonnets - we blush - we burn - a strange melody - a beep - a child's voice - a woman's voice - synthetic - distant - valentines in slinky static. We'll cop your cipher." The phantoms, as one, look at a point next to the radio where there is nothing. Staren can see this clearly. Everything is in focus. Then, again as one, they vanish, flickering out of sight like the film reel had run out. All is quiet, save for the continuing adventures of Dick Tracy... or maybe his ghost, instead. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Lancer of Black just straight up /IMPALES ALL THE ZOMBIES AT ONCE. Staren stares for a moment. "Wow. /That/ was cool."     Once he makes it to the radio, Staren has mentally braced himself for something horrible and dreadful. What terrible fate these two met, or perhaps, being put in direct telepathic and empathic contact with an evil spirit...     Nothing happens.     For a split-second. As Staren's about to take his hands off the radio, his radio is hijacked by his own support AI's voice. HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK?! He steps back, holding his hands to his helmet, sending mental commands to Dawn to terminate this process, then telling his headware to force-close it, then telling his headware to turn off the radio, then sending commands to all his devices to lock down, then trying to reboot the headware. Nothing works.     He's forced to listen to it. What does the message mean? Is it a warning that the radio signal was the Filth itself? Or are the bees just showing off what /they/ can do?!     If his systems start responding again after the message is over, he tells Dawn to shut down, archiving this iteration of her to a tablet he pulls out of his bag for later analysis. He'll make do without a muse till he sorts out how much of his stuff is contaminated. If his stuff isn't responding, then he's /extremely nervous/ until it is. 

}}

3312/The Broadcast

2015-11-17T06:42:21Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/11/02 |Location=The Secret World <TSW> |Synopsis=A numbers station reaches out to the Multiverse. Secret Worlders suspect foul play. Prelude t..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/11/02
|Location=The Secret World <TSW>
|Synopsis=A numbers station reaches out to the Multiverse. Secret Worlders suspect foul play. Prelude to The Broadcast arc.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=287, 495, 513, 515, 525, 886, 900
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Our story begins, as many do, in the boughs of the World Tree. Agartha is warm, balmy even, and well-lit from no discernable source high above or far below. The warp gate into this Earth leads to Agartha, a place dangerous to the minds of the uninitiated -- which is to say, non-Elites who are not prepared for the mind-bending spatial scrambling that this place seems to have undergone. Enormous branches of brightly-colored wood weave between one another, above and below, with platforms and 'knotholes' of silvery portals scattered hither and yon. The warp gate is one of these, though perhaps bigger than the rest. It opens to a wide platform (without any railings to prevent one from falling into an infinite abyss) at the top of a gently sloping 'ramp' of a branch. From there... well, who knows? Where do you /want/ to go? Wuyin waits at the warpgate platform, holding his cell phone to his ear and murmuring into it while he stares out into the white void in the distance. There's a battery-operated radio on the ground next to him; he's kneeling down and rotating the antenna, apparently listening to both the voice on the phone and the numbers from the radio. "...Thirty. Forty-one. Seven. Three. Ninety..." "Do you have it yet?" Wuyin asks whoever is on the other end. There's a response, but it's indistinct. He sighs, and keeps adjusting. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Agartha. The Hollow Earth. Shambala, beneath Tibet. According to a French Occultist, it is the place where the Ten Commandments were drafted by Moses and Jesus.      Lancer of Black has never believed in the Hollow Earth. The idea was spawned well after his life, and in any case, the only part of the world that ever truly held any meaning for him was the little strip of country called Wallachia. That still, to some degree, remains.      But Lancer nonetheless has a duty to uphold. The numbers rattling about on the radio have caught the attention of his Master, Thomas von Richten Yggdmillennia, and, as a favor to his courtier, Lancer has come to investigate.      The Servant emerges in Agartha and immediately pauses to examine the vast and sweeping spectral tree. It is unlike anything he has ever seen in his life, or in the new life he has been granted. For a brief instant, he wonders if this is what the Magi mean by the Swirl of the Root - but judging by the man kneeling with a radio antenna, he very much doubts it.      Lancer walks over the platform and looks down at Wuyin. The tall, pale Servant gives him a curious stare, too polite to interrupt but far too curious not to watch. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Getting to Agartha is easy. Nothing is easier, really. It is the one place she goes to that she can't possibly get lost trying to find. The conduit makes certain of that. Of course, once at the world tree, that is a different matter. Luckily for Inga, she happens to appear directly in front of Wuyin, both hands folded on top of her oak staff, frowning gently. She looks as though she'd been in the middle of baking. There's flour on the apron she wears and she has a white kerchief tied around her head. She hadn't done much more than strap on her usual belt, make sure she had her pouch and her knife, then come straight over. "Wuyin," she greets with a nod. It's been awhile since she'd seen her...what? Bee-brother? Inga shakes her head slightly at the thought. Fellow Chosen of the Buzzing. That'd do. Inga approaches, frown deepening. "So," she says, waiting, preparing. She reaches up to grasp the hammer amulet she wears, whisping a prayer to Thor. "I've my wards ready. What is it Wuyin?" she asks. The Buzzing was silent at present. Sure that won't last. 

:'''{{#var:287|Yumi Musumi (287)}} has posed:'''      Yumi Musumi was an adventerous soul... and bored.      This is not a good combination. After hearing some talk on the radio - and the brief but somewhat cryptic warning from Inga - she had decided it was time to have some Fun, or at least, well, go do something Interesting. In fact, it was so quiet and boring lately! Or, well, quiet. It's never boring in the multiverse, even if Yumi was pretty much the eternal house wife lately. Er, well... the house... planeswalker. That doesn't really cook.      Yumi steps out into the tree, and pauses to look up, her eyes widening as she takes in the sight that is... Agartha. She feels a inkling in her bones, and all things considered, her hands rifle through her trio of pouches set on her side. Her Ent deck is happy, at the least.      "It's beautiful." She breathes, finally. Thanks, Yumi. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' It's been a while since Riva's spent a decent amount of time in Agartha. She likes it. The place is bright and comforting despite telling Euclid to #getrekt. Hell, Riva can look in the distance and see other Bees running here and there, all dressed in whatever the hell they're using to murder supernatural things and each other these days. Regardless, the Templaress approaches Wyuin, looking huffy as she puts her hands on her hips and leans in towards the (still unconfirmed) Dragon, Inga, and assembling Elite group. "Okay, Wuyin, what did you do /this/ time? Is this more random chaos bullcrap?" Oh God, Riva's being the straight woman, someone save us all. 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     Perhaps the feeling of being cooped up on a magical wooden space faring sea vessel that flies is a feeling that one must get used to. It must be, considering once more Yukihana Masamune feels the need to stretch her legs. Given a convenient excuse in the form of a somewhat familiar voice being somewhat cryptic about and even more cryptic string of numbers over the radio.     It should make for an interesting tale to tell the crew when she gets back, at least. Perhaps. Still, a trip through a Dimension Door, and then a warpgate or two places the silver-haired fox-girl at the boughs of Agartha. Scarlet eyes gaze around in awe- and perhaps with the beginnings of a mild headache as she shuffles her way along the platform, arms folded together within the sleeves of her kimono, katana slung in the sash. An elegant yet simple design of pink silk with white snowflake patterns as she approaches Wuyin and the forming group. The agent of Dragon will easily recognize her. He may also perhaps find her in miserable condition, pale, dark bags beneath her eyes. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Rather than directly respond verbally, Wuyin offers Inga a polite incline of the head, and then very deliberately turns away from Riva and holds up a finger. Give him a minute. He's cradled his phone against the side of his head and his shoulder. "Yes. Yes, that's right. It's..." He turns a little to the right, towards where the antenna is pointing. Then, he takes his phone, looks at the screen, and puts it back where it was. "...northeast of you. Uh huh. Uh... /huh/. Yes, I'll look into it." He lowers the phone again and ends the call. Then, he stands up, and turns around, looking at the people that have assembled so far. Lancer in particular, who is directly in his personal space, gets a look involving a quirked brow from behind his 3D glasses. "Numbers. All /I've/ done is track them. Do you know David Screed, in New York? Weird Non-Fiction Magazine?" he asks Riva. "He claims an anonymous man calling himself 'the Presenter' has been speaking to him through his newsletter about numbers stations, and that he gave him a frequency to listen in on." Wuyin bends down to collect the radio. There is a distinctly unsettling quality to the repetition. It's like there's something else being said, and yet... "He threw away his radio after that. Made as much noise as he could to get it out of his head. Sound familiar?" Wuyin turns the radio off, tucking it into a pocket, and then immediately drawing a small bottle of something dark from wherever he keeps things. He offers it to Yukihana. "Miss Swordsmith," he says in an uncharacteristically gentle voice, "you do not look like you have been sleeping well. This should help." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''      Others are arriving. People she has never seen before, and by the looks on their faces upon coming to Agartha, they have probably never been to Solomon Island. Which means its talisman and speech time. Inga takes a breath and looks to the newcomers. "Hello, I am Inga Freyjasdottir, wisewoman. Before we proceed out of Agartha and into our world I would like to place wards on those who do not have more long term talismans. There is an...entity. A substance. It is extremely infectious. The wards help, but if you find any strange black liquid on anything or anyone, do NOT touch it. Do not examine it. Do not even look at it too hard, do you understand?" she asks, not unkindly. She's clearly given this talk many times before.      Riva arrives and Inga turns to toward her, smiling in greeting. "Riva, how good to see you. You have your talisman I trust?" she asks. Inga turns back to Wuyin, frowning as she hears the repitition of numbers over the radio. Something prickles at her skin. The wisewoman fetches one of the pouches at her waist then, reaching in to pull a few small objects. When she opens her hand she has pulled three runes, the bones glow a faint blue. "Well, that /is/ ominous," she sighs. Of course it is. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     IT happens without warning. One moment a certain smith may think all is well, all is good. The next, SOMETHING'S batting at her tail. Or rather... brushing it, just barely. A wind rushes up her back from behind and... in just an instant there's weight on her right shoulder.     A single fox paw, and the head of a female Arctic Fox in full winter coat. Standing on one forepaw, body completely vertical and balanced on Yukihana's shoulder.     A cheek lick commences! One brief lick!     Although her gaze is fixed enough on Wuyin that there's no doubt the fox is seriously listening to the news about the debacle.     Astute observers might see that instead of pure white, her ears and tail have a strange silvery gleam... 

:'''{{#var:287|Yumi Musumi (287)}} has posed:'''      "Yeah, hi, I'm uh, Yumi Musumi. Planeswalker. Magic ...ey... type person. I guess? I mean, feel free to ward me, but I don't know how it'll interact."      She rifles through her deck. "Also, uh, pardon me, but would walking and talking trees be less bad or dragons and goblins?      Thanks, Yumi. 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      "Crusader," Lancer of Black greets Riva politely, placing a hand over his chest and bowing low in the style of a knight. His accent is *sharply* and *noticably* Romanian - it comes out sounding more like "Crew-say-duhr." He takes a step back pretty much as soon as Wuyin acknowledges his existence, evacuating personal space to, again, be polite. Over the Servant's shoulder is slung a wicked-looking spear, a weapon that looks designed more for punishment than combat, though it doesn't appear to be magical in any sense of the word. The silver-haired Fox Girl also receives a glance from him, as does the fox itself. His eyes are a shining gold, like a nighttime predator.      Inga introduces herself. Lancer places his hand over his chest and bows to her, though it's not as low a bow as he gave Riva. "I am Lancer of Black, Knight of the Dragon. Please, lady, save your talismans; my own magical resistance is not-inconsiderable. I would prefer that those without such blessings are covered."      He leaves unsaid that talismans sound unpleasantly unChristian, because that would be super impolite. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva grumbles at Wuyin's back. He did that on purpose! Before she can get sulky about Wuyin being Wuyin, however, she looks to the others present. "Lancer! Good to see you!" Riva waves to him, smiling. Inga gets a sudden bouncing squeal, however as Riva hugs her. "INGA! Good to see you again! Man, it's been forever since we went out and /did/ things. Don't worry, everything's cool!" She assures the wisewoman, and then waves to the pair of foxes. "Hiiiii there! Hey Finna!" She approaches Yukihana and offers a hand for a shake. "Good to meet you! I'm Riva Banari of the Templars. I've heard you a bit around! Great to meet you in person!" She grins, and then also looks to Yumi. "Hey there! Have we met? I actually can't remember, I'm terrible." When she gets a chance, she holds out a hand for Yumi too. "Nice to see you as well!" 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     "I have not been well." It is a quiet, honest, admission. But not one the kitsune chooses to dwell on in the moment, opting to flow into a much more polite: "I hope you have fared well?" The bottle however receives something of a confused look, but with a bow of her head and quiet 'thank you' while fiddling with the bottle, popping it open for a sniff of the contents... Before...     "Hm?"     Her tail swishes. A little sway, and she turns her head to see just what's batting at her before finding a fox right on her shoulder. The cheeklick is met with wide scarlet eyes, and then a sharp yip of surprise. It is very unelegant, and the resultant heated flush on her face says she regrets making the sound in the first place, when those predatory topaz eyes of the Impaler Lord upon her.     She seems VERY GRATEFUL for the distraction of Riva's introduction, working for a beat to recover from her fluster. The hand is not accepted, which could be considered somewhat awkward as she fips forward in a formal bow.     "Ah... Masamune, Yukihana. H-Heard of me?" 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The bottle smells... well actually, it's hard to tell. Agartha smells fairly pleasantly of honey all the way through, like they were inside some kind of enormous bee-hive. If you looked around enough, you might even be able to see something that resembles bees buzzing around. The bottle /is/ a sweet smell, though, but it's a different kind. (It's blueberry!) "As well as I ever am." Wuyin smiles slightly at Awkward Fox, and nods a bit at the resident Lunar. They'll... well, maybe they'll get along. He doesn't know much about various forms of supernatural fox beyond some vague legends. "I hope you find it in you to feel better soon." Wu shoots a glance at Inga, giving her a quizzical look over the tops of his red-and-blue-lensed glasses. She did a thing with runes he doesn't know how to read. What did that come up with? Then, he turns to Lancer more fully. Wuyin himself seems to be carrying a straight wooden club with black stone teeth up opposite sides, and a big ol' triangular piece stuck in the top. He wears it like a sword, odd though it is. That spear, though... "I am Wuyin Tsai. I am no knight," he says, voice and expression utterly serious, "but I am an expert at swallowing bees." 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      "An odd thing to be an expert in," Lancer of Black replies, "But I have met many strange men, and just as many have had expertise as strange as they themselves. I am certain it is a pleasure, Wuyin Tsai the Bee-Eater."      The fox's reaction gets another look from Lancer, though he apparently pays it no mind. Perhaps he simply thinks she's a little weird. There's nothing chastising in those predator's eyes - in fact, his gaze is kind of flat, despite the feeling of predatory power behind it.      "The numbers, then. They are presumably a message. Do you know the contents of it?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''      "We shall see," Inga says to Yumi. She approaches, trying to give her a quick smile to reassure her before pulling her knife and pricking her finger with it. "I must draw the rune upon your skin to activate the ward," she explains. And yes, it is to be drawn in blood.      Upon turning to Lancer, she bows in return. "A pleasure, Knight of the Dragon," she replies. Her brow furrows gently at his refusal of her charm, though it is done so politely she can only purse her lips in momentary disapproval. "I am sure that you are right, but please do keep my warning in mind. Whatever resistances you have, this...infection...spreads very easily. We cannot bring it to other worlds," she cautions.      And yes, it is extremely Unchristian.      Finna has arrived. Inga greets her with a smile. She's another who has been given a more permanent talisman. Riva practically knocks Inga over with her enthusiasm. The small woman can't help but laugh, returning the embrace. "Yes, it has. A year in fact. Strange, isn't it?" she says, her smile fading. "Too long." An amused smile returns briefly at Wuyin's quip about swallowing bees, but fades again as she pats her rune pouch thoughtfully. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva steps back in surprise at the bow, and returns it momentarily and slightly awkwardly. "Yeah! On the radio! Everyhting's cool though." She pauses and looks back to Wuyin, a sudden realization flashing across her face. "Waiiiiiiiiiiiitaminute. Are you telling me that we're chasing our tails for that tabloid guy in New York? This is already getting stupid. He buries everything he gets neck deep in furry-toothed conspiracy theories." She grumps dome more for a moment, and then sighs. "Okay, /fine/. Where are we going?" 

:'''{{#var:287|Yumi Musumi (287)}} has posed:''' "It's nice to meet everyone!" Yumi mentally adds a 'I think'. "Uh... okay. Wow. Blood magic?" She sounds slightly nervous. She isn't as well educated as Theo is about the actual nature of their abilities and the other worlds, and thus she's kind of confused. But she allows it! Her goblins would approve. Some of her dragons, too. Dorks. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Well I for one will accept Inga's help!" Speaks the fox, leaping off Yukihana's shoulder with a move light as a feather. She's apparently pleased with Yukihana's reaction, going by the triumphant little smirk on her face as the vaulting fox shifts to human form, fur receding into pale northerner flesh and sprouting the thing leather decorative attire of her barbarian homeland. Although if you asked them about, she's taken an entirely odd risque flair of showing off midriff and other areas. Probably seen too many other adventurers in the Multiverse doing it.     The young woman lands with the biggest, cheeriest grin. "Finna Snowdancer. Of course, I had to greet my sister-in-spirit here first... hello, Inga, Wu, Riva! Up to the usual escapades, huh?"     She'll grab a charm no sweat if needed. But honestly, only if the one she's received from a previous matter isn't good enough. She dangles that first and wears it...     Only to stick out her tongue at Lancer in the next moment. "You don't know what you're missing out on. She knows her stuff. Ah well. Luna favors the bold. Sometimes." 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Lancer's eyes follow the dangling pendant as Finna puts it on. Then, as politely as he can, he says, "no, thank you. The Lord will keep me safe."      There's disapproval in his rich Romanian voice. It's clear that he's not entirely pleased by the aid of pagans. He may be willing to work alongside them and help them with a greater problem, but actually adopting their ways is something that he's *clearly* unwilling to do.      "I am confident that between my God and my ability, the infection will find no vector through me," he adds, again remarkably politely, to Inga. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''      Inga slips the runes back into her pouch, looking up. Her eyes widen slightly, "Ah...there they are," she says quietly, just before her body goes rigid. She gasps a breath before she begins.      "We call upon their names: Nancy Adam Susan, The Swedish Rhapsody, The Gong Station, the English Woman, Magnetic Fields, Tyrolean Music Station, Three Note Oddity, The Counting Station, Papa November, and The Lonely Patriot."      Then it is done. Inga nearly falls over, shaking her head.      "Well, at least it was brief this time....but I haven't the slightest idea what any of that means," she sighs. Inga leans toward Finna, still a little....buzzy. "I do appeciate your confidence in me, Finna," Inga replies before looking to Lancer. Oh, she knows /that/ look. It is all she can do to keep a sudden scowl from appearing. Inga has made progress in a year here in the multiverse. She's met Christians that are not terrible, that indeed she can call friend.      But she still doesn't like it. His feeling of disapproval is entirely mutual. But he is polite, he is respectful enough, and so Inga presses her lips shut and nods. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "I am certain it is a pleasure," Wuyin Tsai the Bee-Eater replies to Lancer of Black, in an almost identical tone. He's a strange one, all right. "A message? Perhaps. It is from a numbers station, a sort of radio broadcast that transmits numbers with no explanation nor any sort of clear origin. Theorists and enthusiasts have been attempting to decipher them for decades. What I /do/ know, is that it is being broadcast from more than one location --" Inga does her thing. Wuyin pauses for a second, watching her and listening with rapt attention. Once it's done, he mouths the words for a few seconds, as if mulling it over. He turns his head to look to Riva. "Thanks to that 'tabloid guy,' we have a lead: north-east of him, most probably there," he points at a branch in the distance, an oft-travelled one for some of them, "is roughly where the closest signal is coming from. And if something is broadcasting from the island, and we're /hearing/ it..." 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     H-huff. Well at least the OTHER fox is off her shoulder now. The kitsune quietly adjusts her kimono with a small fidget before her head dips in another bow. First to Wuyin, then to Riva. Another sniff ad the bottle and she finally opts to put it to her lips. There is a mild look of surprise at first that crosses her face, tongue flitting over her lips thoughtfully before she makes her verdict and downs the contents of the bottle rather quickly, before daintily dabbing her lips clean. Before she asks the most pivotal and important question of the moment.     "... What is a tabloid?" 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Hmmmm..." Finna blinks a few times at Lancer, studying him. She utterly lacks Inga's cultural knowledge of the situation, but decides to clap her hands together, fingers folded together, and exclaims, "You're very bold. May he help all of us, perhaps. Whenever it's a problem on this world? You need all the divine help you can get. Skill and good steel helps a lot too."     It is perhaps funny in a way how gracefully and earnestly Finna states such, but perhaps it's to expected of the Creation-born.     In truth though, she's putting most of her faith in skill, steel, and the protean Essence burning in her soul.     "I like a good mystery investigation, Wuyin! What do you expect over there? Forest? Desert? More mess in zombietown? I don't know what's that way!"     And, well, for that matter she's nto sure what's ANY way in this place sometimes. It's so confusing. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' "A tabloid is a kind of newspaper that specializes in sensationalism instead of strictly reporting truthful news. A lot of them simply fabricate complete lies." Riva replies. When Finna transforms back,, Riva is already there, giving the snowfox a big hug. They've always been helpful! The Templaress looks over her shoulder one she's done greeting Finna, peering at Wuyin. "Wait. Northeast of New York is... Solomon Island. You can't mean they're broadcasting from that hellhole, right?" There is a headshake. "So we're going to go drop everything to go try to triangulate the broadcast and figure out where it's coming from, huh?" 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "If they /are/ broadcasting from Solomon Island," Wuyin feels like this adequately answers Finna's query, just mentioning it, "and they're capable of breaking through the interference caused by the fog /without/ the aid of Multiversal communication, then this is something that is worth looking into." He shrugs his shoulders. "Besides, what else will you be doing? I doubt you or I have much to drop. This may be precisely what we were made to do." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''      Well, she is glad that was helpful to Wuyin at least. Now they know where to begin. Inga sighs, looking to Wuyin. "Yes, it is time to get back to what we were made for." 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Lancer shrugs. "The Lord defends His faithful," he replies. Beyond that, he remains silent. He sees no need to step in or interfere - these people have done this before, clearly, and when people have experience, it's wisest to let them use it.      "Then let us go," the pale man replies. 

:'''{{#var:287|Yumi Musumi (287)}} has posed:''' "So, I never got an answer." Yumi says perkily. "Ents or dragons? Either way, I'm going Lord Of The Rings on this thing." Thanks, Yumi. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Yumi, blinking. "What is an ent?" she inquires. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva folds her arms and tries her best to look sternly at Wuyin. She fails her Intimidation roll and more or less just looks like an indigant teen. It's not like she can admit she was beginning to really like getting paid double to sit around and party at the HoH building, do artwork, and do reports sometimes. Yumi asks about ents or dragons. Riva rubs her chin. "Well, Solomon Island has a lot of forest so I'd recommend ents. They'd hide better." She doesn't even question what's up with this anymore. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "If I had to choose, I would say I am partial to ents," Wuyin asides. He's messing with his phone. "I'm told dragons are unreliable, and shouldn't be trusted." 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     Finna returns the hug with full fervor! "Hello to you too!" But she bristles at the name 'Solomon Island.' SHIVER.     The shiver's so bad it vibrates through her tail even. "That place again... it's like all the evil in the world got boiled into a soupy mess and dumped there. It still hasn't been evacuated? Come ON." Finna BOGGLES, fully wide-eyed...     But with a grouchy resignated noise, reaches into her tail and pulls out A WELL-POLISHED VIKING ARMING SWORD. What really looks like one, anyways. It's a bit on the lean side, but its only decorations are minor etchings. It's meant for business.     "Lead on, then. Can't do too much scouting if it's through THAT place... best not to travel alone." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga Looks at Wuyin, quirking a brow as if to ask 'did you really just say that with a straight face?' 

:'''{{#var:900|Yukihana Masamune (900)}} has posed:'''     That explains... That explains thins fairly well actually.     "Oh." Is Yukihana's response when Riva fills her in on the deets of just what the tabloids are, the fox-girl scrunches her nose in thought for a moment. "I do not think I would enjoy reading one of those." More importantly though: "... I believe I will accompany. If you will have me?" 

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''      Lancer bristles. "I have been called many things in my life, but never unreliable or untrustworthy, Bee-Eater." 

:'''{{#var:287|Yumi Musumi (287)}} has posed:''' Yumi looks at Inga for a moment, before she pulls out a set of cards from her pocket. She rifles through them carefully before handing a card out to Inga to show her the Cloudcrown Oak, the anthromorphic tree at the top half of the picture. "It's... basically a live tree." She explains. "I... me, Theo, Neva, Conor, all of us... when we use our mana, our magic, and these cards, we can make them... come to life, essentially. I call them 'ents', after a similiar creature in a book from my world. Riva is right, they're a better choice, because my main mana draw for this deck, well, my only mana draw, is well..." She holds up the Forest card. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga takes the card, examining it. "You cast your magic through these cards? Interesting," she says, turning the card over once in her hand. "Well...I do like trees...so that would be what I would pick--however, fire is quite useful on Solomon Island as well. Difficult decision," she comments. To Lancer, Inga smiles slightly, then shakes her head. She isn't going to explain. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Wuyin's expression is and was totally serious. His poker face is legendary. "We would be glad to have you, if you are prepared to endure the terrible things that lie on that island. We are quite well-prepared for them, now, but it is still dangerous," Wuyin says seriously to Yukihana. He looks up from his phone at Lancer of Black. "You are also not an enormous winged fire-breathing reptile with teeth like swords and claws like spears," he retorts easily, "and furthermore, it was a joke." 

:'''{{#var:287|Yumi Musumi (287)}} has posed:''' "Haihai! That's essentially how it goes. Um, I do have a combined deck that takes the best of both worlds, but, er... two of the big things that involve with it kind of are a god and... well, a Tarmogoyf, which can be the weakest or strongest thing on the field considering what's going on. So it's one of those risky decks." Yumi does not sound phased that she can will a god to life. Magic, you know. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' "Of course you can come!" Riva replies to Yuki with a smile. Riva is always in favor of more foxgirl. It's objectively better than less foxgirl. They're always fun to be around! "Hokay, okay. Anyway, let's all break and get some stuff together, and then we'll go hit Solomon and see if it's the culprit, or if Screed is going to spontanously blame aliens or something and selfdestruct." Riva shrugs. "Anyway, we have enough /defined/ problems without chasing rumors like this. I'll humor you though, since if you're just trolling us I don't want to get left out." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks confuses, but nods. "Ah...right..." a god!? Ugh. "Mmm, yes, let me go back home so I can put on something less nice," she says. She's wearing rough homespun, stained with flour and what not now. Solomon Island gets very messy. Inga has to break out the blood resistant clothing. 

:'''{{#var:513|Finna (513)}} has posed:'''     "Be ready for a trip through hell, sister. I mean it. Smelly, ugly, moldy, fish-monsters and angry dead tromping everywhere." Finna warns Yuki before checking over here blade... 

}}

Theo Morrison

2015-11-03T03:32:31Z

Binary:

{{CharacterNoLogs
|NameOnMUSH=Theo Morrison
|Color= #6495ED
|Char_id=317
|Img=http://i.imgur.com/29FhfLG.png
|FullName=Maldwyn Theodotus Morrison
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human (Planeswalker)
|Theme=Deckmaster-1
|Chartype=OC
|Function=Theo, the Deckmaster
|Faction=Unaffiliated
|Rank=X-None
|Ranktype=Unaffiliated
|Groups=[[Gatecrashers Union]], [[Users.Net]], [[Heaven Or Hell]]
|Quote="Okay, things are about to get both really stupid and completely amazing."
|PAge=19
|AAge=19 (Nov. 3)
|Aging=Yes
|Height=5'9"
|Weight=200 lbs.
|Hair=Red-brown
|Eyes=Green
|Voice=
|Song=The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/mdu8yYhtp9s Universe]
|Profile=A young man from an Earth like many others, Theo Morrison is many things: a student, a gamer... and a Planeswalker. After narrowly avoiding death by meteor, Theo's latent Planeswalker's Spark ignited, the previously-unknown inborn talent suddenly granting him phenomenal cosmic power and little knowledge of how to use it. Curiously, a popular card game on his home Earth functions with this power, allowing him the ability to conjure armies and lay waste to his enemies... but only if he plays by the rules. Clever, curious, outspoken and otherwise friendly, Theo wants nothing more than to explore the Multiverse, see all there is to see, and to hone his newfound strength along the way -- and will accept nothing less, either. However, between his reliance on the game, his near-nonexistent skill in typical combat and his growing heroic streak, Theo seems destined to get into deeper trouble than he can handle alone sooner rather than later...
|Powers='''PLANESWALKER'S SPARK:''' Theo possesses an ignited Planeswalker's Spark, an inborn talent granting him several abilities. First and foremost is the ability to sense and call upon large quantities of mana very quickly, though only from the local environs. Second is the ability to harness said mana in order to fuel spells of a scale beyond the ability of normal mages, and to do so much more swiftly. It also gives him the eponymous ability to travel between planes -- more specifically, to travel between Unified worlds he knows of or has been to (see Planar Travel, below). Theo's ability to draw upon mana can be blocked by the right forces (or, in some instances, resisted). Drawing mana from certain locations might also be considered unwise, carrying with it various repercussions, be it magical (from tainted mana, for instance) or otherwise (like, say, drawing on mana from an intelligent place without permission).

'''PLANAR TRAVEL:''' By opening momentary doorways in space, Theo can travel the Multiverse without any external aid. Theo's planeswalking activation method requires directed will, a shock of some kind to reflexively draw upon local mana, and sudden motion. Due to the required ritual, the amount of mana required to open a hole and his total lack of short-range teleportation capability, Theo's planeswalking ability is effectively useless in combat. While he is capable of bringing passengers through the Aether with him, the dangers inherent in his method of transit make it extremely risky for anyone who lacks a method of protection against the Aether's effects to come with him. The usual wards against teleportation will suffice to prevent use of this power. (See +info Theo/Planeswalking for more.)

'''DECKMASTER:''' Like most Planeswalkers, Theo is a powerful mage, capable of using large amounts of mana to craft spells of immense power. Unlike most Planeswalkers, Theo requires a very specific focus to accomplish feats of magic: a deck of trading cards from a particular game from his homeworld. Theo's arsenal of spells is wide and varied, ranging from flinging fireballs to conjuring creatures and beyond, but they always follow a particular theme or pattern governed by the color of mana used to cast them and the composition of his deck. Creatures and objects summoned with this ability are strictly temporary, though the effects of something like a conjured lightning bolt might not be. Theo is currently only capable of channeling and controlling Blue and White mana, limiting his range of effects. While he can draw on other colors of mana and convert them to generic, colorless mana, he can't use them to cast colored spells outside his specialty. (Some spell effects, such as those that cause physical or mental alteration, require consent. See +info Theo/Deckmaster1 and 2 for more details.)

'''MAGICAL POTENTIAL:''' Theo has surprising innate magical potential. At the moment, this only manifests through his deck-based abilities, though he is capable of learning to emulate card effects outside the bounds of a duel through time and effort, and already has access to several minor tricks in that regard. (See +info Theo/Spells_Known for more.)
|Skills='''MUNDANE SKILLS:''' Theo possesses all the skills associated with being a 21st-century urbanite and has a practiced knack for illustration. He's also got an excellent memory; he can generally see or hear something once and reproduce it with exceptional accuracy. (Consent required to perfectly recall information obtained from scenes or other sources outside my direct control.)

'''MAD SKILLS:''' Theo is an exceptional player of games of skill, including card games, board games, and war games. While this to some degree translates to other mediums -- like being good at skill-based MMORPGs, for instance -- it primarily means that if you need someone to beat Death at chess to save a soul, he's your guy.
|Assets='''COOL STUFF:''' Theo has been slowly accumulating objects from various Multiversal locations and implementing them into his usual list of things to carry around. This includes a growing variety of weapons, tools and miscellaneous helpful objects. You never know when youre going to need a frog-themed sword or a twined bit of vine that slows your fall.

'''MANA FIX:''' Among his pieces of exceptionally useful gear are what Theo would call "mana fix," and what anyone else would call "some kind of magical converter." These objects, signets of membership normally given to the Izzet and Azorius Guilds of Ravnica (and a Protoabstractum made from one of the former), allow him to convert normally-colorless or wrong-colored mana from his environment into useful colors. While this is useful in a pinch and when he only needs a little of a particular type of mana, they have a limit to how much they can convert at once, and are insufficient to do more than somewhat mitigate his reliance on specific terrain.

'''DECKS:''' Theo has a number of decks of trading cards he carries, foci through which he channels mana to cast spells and summon creatures. While his actual card collection is quite large, the number of decks he has that are useful in a Multiversal context are somewhat more limited. Without outside alteration, Theo's decks are vulnerable to anything that might normally damage pieces of card stock in a thin sleeve of plastic, though Aura and other items prevent casual damage to them when they're in use. Notably, Theo's decks are not unique, being constructed from a selection of mass-produced components for a game; thus, should they be damaged or destroyed, he can replace them fairly quickly and with relative ease. (See +info Theo/Decks for a list of approved decks in play.)
|NPCs='''KICKOTRON, MYR SERVITOR:''' Kickotron is a Myr Servitor that Theo keeps summoned for all kinds of busywork. Small, silent and relentlessly dedicated to doing whatever it is it's told to do, Kickotron is useful for utility but not so much in a fight. (PL 22)

'''ABSTRACTUM:''' Theo has an Abstractum, a Blue-type named Aetherwright meant to enhance and modify his Deckmaster abilities and give him further mastery over his unusual powers. See the character Abstractum.Net for further information.|Disadvantages='''COMBAT INEPT:''' Outside of his deck-based spellcasting, Theo is actually a completely untrained combatant. Barring some afternoons spent hitting people with sticks for fun, any engagement with him outside his element will be laughably one-sided.

'''RULEBOUND:''' Theo's ritualized method of casting spells through trading cards requires him to observe all the rules he would normally have to to play the game. In addition to requiring a legal deck, Theo has to go through all the motions of playing a normal game for anything to work, even in the midst of combat. If he wants to cast a spell hes drawn from his deck, he has to cast it during the right part of his turn and have the mana to use it. Similarly, he has to have garnered an appropriate reaction from an opponent to take another turn, effectively making it all but impossible to use his abilities from a position of surprise or to use them unhindered. Should he render a foe unable to act through any means available to him by means of his deck short of actually defeating them, he may continue to act as normal; similarly, if someone deliberately allows him time to build up, a reaction is unnecessary to continue.

'''SPECIALIZED FOCI:''' While Theo does possess the capacity to learn magic normally and to become a powerful mage to boot, his total reliance on his deck means that without it, he's effectively helpless. Removing it from him before he can begin using it is a perfectly reasonable method of stopping him before he becomes a problem. Until he learns a more traditional method of casting all the spells theoretically available to him via his decks, his reliance on them as a crutch will surely continue.

'''MANA DEPENDENCY:''' Theo's spellcasting ability relies heavily on the use of mana to function. Spells are grouped according to the color of associated mana needed to cast them, with each color having a particular environment it's found in. If Theo finds himself casting spells of the wrong type in the wrong environment -- say, fighting someone in a forest while attempting to draw blue mana, normally found around islands -- he can be at a significant disadvantage. Certain objects (artifacts) can generate a small amount of mana outside the appropriate environments or alter the color to suit his needs, though they're almost never enough to wholly negate a bad choice of battlefield.

'''CURIOSITY KILLED THE CASTER:''' Theo likes the idea that there are all sorts of cool things out there among the Multiverse. In fact, he might like it a little too much. If given the opportunity, he'll go out of his way to look for and collect cool things, to ask pointed questions, and to try and learn things people don't want known. This will almost certainly get him into a lot of trouble down the line.

'''MALDWYN THEODOTUS MORRISON:''' Yes, that is his full name. No, you may not call him by it.
 
==Miscellaneous==
===Trivia/Facts===
* Theo babbles when he's nervous. This has been observed in action -- repeatedly.
* Theo is followed around by a [http://gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Card/Details.aspx?multiverseid=50179 Myr Servitor] he has dubbed Kickotron. The name is both a stupid joke and pretty appropriate.
* Theo has been gathering equipment to make his life easier. This list includes an [[Eclipse Phase-1|"ecto"]], a trio of [[Ravnica-1|Guild Signets]] (including the revised Izzet one), a sword from a [[Princess Bubblegum|privately-owned dungeon]], and a .45-caliber pistol that has exchanged owners multiple times.
* Theo plays ALO. He plays a Leprechaun, and largely hits things with hammers and makes the hammers what hit things.
 
===Soundtrack===
# Avantasia -- [http://youtu.be/MJLjuJJSDvE Forever Is A Long Time]
# The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/APHVIG-s8Ws Universe]
# Mumford & Sons -- [http://youtu.be/a2e8-ZmtU7c Dust Bowl Dance]
 
}}

===Decks===
====Anterior Causality====

Anterior Causality (sometimes called "Tolarian Toolbox") is a mono-Blue deck focusing on Suspended cards and field manipulation. It uses a combination of time effects (delaying the casting of spells and providing extra turns to cast more, for instance) to prevent an enemy offense from forming, and then uses one of several creatures to overwhelm any defense.

(Anterior Causality doesn't actually allow for any OOC turn manipulation unless opponents think that'd be fun; it's just more time to "build up" in the context of the game-within-a-game and cool stuff to pose.)

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554297

====Goat Simulator====

Sometimes you just need an endless supply of expendable minions. Goat Simulator is a mono-White deck built with this thought in mind, focused around using Kithkin -- short, telepathic shepherds native to a strange dualistic plane -- to herd goats onto the battlefield and then use them to overrun your opponents. With a number of options included to make the inevitable goat swarm incredibly strong in a variety of ways, and an equal number of methods available to get even more goats on the field at once, Goat Simulator is a deck whose strength should not be underestimated... even if they /are/ kind of adorable.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/719511

====Plan B====

"Plan B" is a deck best described as "desperate times call for desperate measures." With a slew of synergistic artifacts, a few landscape-blasting lasers and a rapidly-upgrading machine army, the deck lives up to its name as the ultimate backup plan. "Plan B" is slow to build up, using interlocking parts to make a dangerous machine. In the end, it's remarkably straightforward, using massive golems to crush the opposition.

"Plan B" has an oddity: the Darksteel Reactor, an indestructible object that, were it to come online, would provides limitless power with which to rapidly forge a machine army. Its inclusion makes a long, drawn-out battle against the deck unwise, though the likelihood of it going off is slim enough that it becomes a sort of "Plan C" rather than "Plan B."

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554254

====Mirran Metal====

All the planes in the Multiverse create weapons to war with, and the artificial world of Mirrodin is no exception. Collecting the best among them, Mirran Metal puts deadly artifacts in the hands of talented artificers and skilled warriors, using their often-unique powers to level the playing field. With a dagger hosting a demon lord's essence and a sleeping dragon-turned-sword included in the mix, Mirran Metal has a truly impressive number of ways to defeat the enemy. When mythical weapons arent enough, Khemba, Kha Regent leads the leonin prides into battle, and the armaments of the legendary hero Kaldra wait to be gathered so the hero's avatar may walk again.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/705642

====Weapons of the Gods====
A mono-White deck built around enhancing creatures, Weapons of the Gods features a number of ways for making a warrior more than they are. With the inclusion of the Nyxborn, creatures from the starry sky of Theros who can bestow their strength on the worthy or take up arms themselves, this deck's flexibility lies in its capability to both empower one or summon many. When things get too hot for the Nyxborn to handle, Heliod, Theros' God of the Sun steps in to level the playing field -- and a Mass Calcify in the sideboard means that even the seemingly-endless ranks of the dead or the monstrous can be stopped in their tracks with enough time and preparation.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/729870
==Logs==
{{Character Logs}}
==Cutscenes==
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Theo Morrison

2015-11-03T03:32:15Z

Binary:

{{CharacterNoLogs
|NameOnMUSH=Theo Morrison
|Color= #6495ED
|Char_id=317
|Img=http://i.imgur.com/29FhfLG.png
|FullName=Maldwyn Theodotus Morrison
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human (Planeswalker)
|Theme=Deckmaster-1
|Chartype=OC
|Function=Theo, the Deckmaster
|Faction=Unaffiliated
|Rank=X-None
|Ranktype=Unaffiliated
|Groups=[[Gatecrashers Union]], [[Users.Net]], [[Heaven Or Hell]]
|Quote="Okay, things are about to get both really stupid and completely amazing."
|PAge=19
|AAge=19
|Aging=Yes
|Height=5'9"
|Weight=200 lbs.
|Hair=Red-brown
|Eyes=Green
|Voice=
|Song=The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/mdu8yYhtp9s Universe]
|Profile=A young man from an Earth like many others, Theo Morrison is many things: a student, a gamer... and a Planeswalker. After narrowly avoiding death by meteor, Theo's latent Planeswalker's Spark ignited, the previously-unknown inborn talent suddenly granting him phenomenal cosmic power and little knowledge of how to use it. Curiously, a popular card game on his home Earth functions with this power, allowing him the ability to conjure armies and lay waste to his enemies... but only if he plays by the rules. Clever, curious, outspoken and otherwise friendly, Theo wants nothing more than to explore the Multiverse, see all there is to see, and to hone his newfound strength along the way -- and will accept nothing less, either. However, between his reliance on the game, his near-nonexistent skill in typical combat and his growing heroic streak, Theo seems destined to get into deeper trouble than he can handle alone sooner rather than later...
|Powers='''PLANESWALKER'S SPARK:''' Theo possesses an ignited Planeswalker's Spark, an inborn talent granting him several abilities. First and foremost is the ability to sense and call upon large quantities of mana very quickly, though only from the local environs. Second is the ability to harness said mana in order to fuel spells of a scale beyond the ability of normal mages, and to do so much more swiftly. It also gives him the eponymous ability to travel between planes -- more specifically, to travel between Unified worlds he knows of or has been to (see Planar Travel, below). Theo's ability to draw upon mana can be blocked by the right forces (or, in some instances, resisted). Drawing mana from certain locations might also be considered unwise, carrying with it various repercussions, be it magical (from tainted mana, for instance) or otherwise (like, say, drawing on mana from an intelligent place without permission).

'''PLANAR TRAVEL:''' By opening momentary doorways in space, Theo can travel the Multiverse without any external aid. Theo's planeswalking activation method requires directed will, a shock of some kind to reflexively draw upon local mana, and sudden motion. Due to the required ritual, the amount of mana required to open a hole and his total lack of short-range teleportation capability, Theo's planeswalking ability is effectively useless in combat. While he is capable of bringing passengers through the Aether with him, the dangers inherent in his method of transit make it extremely risky for anyone who lacks a method of protection against the Aether's effects to come with him. The usual wards against teleportation will suffice to prevent use of this power. (See +info Theo/Planeswalking for more.)

'''DECKMASTER:''' Like most Planeswalkers, Theo is a powerful mage, capable of using large amounts of mana to craft spells of immense power. Unlike most Planeswalkers, Theo requires a very specific focus to accomplish feats of magic: a deck of trading cards from a particular game from his homeworld. Theo's arsenal of spells is wide and varied, ranging from flinging fireballs to conjuring creatures and beyond, but they always follow a particular theme or pattern governed by the color of mana used to cast them and the composition of his deck. Creatures and objects summoned with this ability are strictly temporary, though the effects of something like a conjured lightning bolt might not be. Theo is currently only capable of channeling and controlling Blue and White mana, limiting his range of effects. While he can draw on other colors of mana and convert them to generic, colorless mana, he can't use them to cast colored spells outside his specialty. (Some spell effects, such as those that cause physical or mental alteration, require consent. See +info Theo/Deckmaster1 and 2 for more details.)

'''MAGICAL POTENTIAL:''' Theo has surprising innate magical potential. At the moment, this only manifests through his deck-based abilities, though he is capable of learning to emulate card effects outside the bounds of a duel through time and effort, and already has access to several minor tricks in that regard. (See +info Theo/Spells_Known for more.)
|Skills='''MUNDANE SKILLS:''' Theo possesses all the skills associated with being a 21st-century urbanite and has a practiced knack for illustration. He's also got an excellent memory; he can generally see or hear something once and reproduce it with exceptional accuracy. (Consent required to perfectly recall information obtained from scenes or other sources outside my direct control.)

'''MAD SKILLS:''' Theo is an exceptional player of games of skill, including card games, board games, and war games. While this to some degree translates to other mediums -- like being good at skill-based MMORPGs, for instance -- it primarily means that if you need someone to beat Death at chess to save a soul, he's your guy.
|Assets='''COOL STUFF:''' Theo has been slowly accumulating objects from various Multiversal locations and implementing them into his usual list of things to carry around. This includes a growing variety of weapons, tools and miscellaneous helpful objects. You never know when youre going to need a frog-themed sword or a twined bit of vine that slows your fall.

'''MANA FIX:''' Among his pieces of exceptionally useful gear are what Theo would call "mana fix," and what anyone else would call "some kind of magical converter." These objects, signets of membership normally given to the Izzet and Azorius Guilds of Ravnica (and a Protoabstractum made from one of the former), allow him to convert normally-colorless or wrong-colored mana from his environment into useful colors. While this is useful in a pinch and when he only needs a little of a particular type of mana, they have a limit to how much they can convert at once, and are insufficient to do more than somewhat mitigate his reliance on specific terrain.

'''DECKS:''' Theo has a number of decks of trading cards he carries, foci through which he channels mana to cast spells and summon creatures. While his actual card collection is quite large, the number of decks he has that are useful in a Multiversal context are somewhat more limited. Without outside alteration, Theo's decks are vulnerable to anything that might normally damage pieces of card stock in a thin sleeve of plastic, though Aura and other items prevent casual damage to them when they're in use. Notably, Theo's decks are not unique, being constructed from a selection of mass-produced components for a game; thus, should they be damaged or destroyed, he can replace them fairly quickly and with relative ease. (See +info Theo/Decks for a list of approved decks in play.)
|NPCs='''KICKOTRON, MYR SERVITOR:''' Kickotron is a Myr Servitor that Theo keeps summoned for all kinds of busywork. Small, silent and relentlessly dedicated to doing whatever it is it's told to do, Kickotron is useful for utility but not so much in a fight. (PL 22)

'''ABSTRACTUM:''' Theo has an Abstractum, a Blue-type named Aetherwright meant to enhance and modify his Deckmaster abilities and give him further mastery over his unusual powers. See the character Abstractum.Net for further information.|Disadvantages='''COMBAT INEPT:''' Outside of his deck-based spellcasting, Theo is actually a completely untrained combatant. Barring some afternoons spent hitting people with sticks for fun, any engagement with him outside his element will be laughably one-sided.

'''RULEBOUND:''' Theo's ritualized method of casting spells through trading cards requires him to observe all the rules he would normally have to to play the game. In addition to requiring a legal deck, Theo has to go through all the motions of playing a normal game for anything to work, even in the midst of combat. If he wants to cast a spell hes drawn from his deck, he has to cast it during the right part of his turn and have the mana to use it. Similarly, he has to have garnered an appropriate reaction from an opponent to take another turn, effectively making it all but impossible to use his abilities from a position of surprise or to use them unhindered. Should he render a foe unable to act through any means available to him by means of his deck short of actually defeating them, he may continue to act as normal; similarly, if someone deliberately allows him time to build up, a reaction is unnecessary to continue.

'''SPECIALIZED FOCI:''' While Theo does possess the capacity to learn magic normally and to become a powerful mage to boot, his total reliance on his deck means that without it, he's effectively helpless. Removing it from him before he can begin using it is a perfectly reasonable method of stopping him before he becomes a problem. Until he learns a more traditional method of casting all the spells theoretically available to him via his decks, his reliance on them as a crutch will surely continue.

'''MANA DEPENDENCY:''' Theo's spellcasting ability relies heavily on the use of mana to function. Spells are grouped according to the color of associated mana needed to cast them, with each color having a particular environment it's found in. If Theo finds himself casting spells of the wrong type in the wrong environment -- say, fighting someone in a forest while attempting to draw blue mana, normally found around islands -- he can be at a significant disadvantage. Certain objects (artifacts) can generate a small amount of mana outside the appropriate environments or alter the color to suit his needs, though they're almost never enough to wholly negate a bad choice of battlefield.

'''CURIOSITY KILLED THE CASTER:''' Theo likes the idea that there are all sorts of cool things out there among the Multiverse. In fact, he might like it a little too much. If given the opportunity, he'll go out of his way to look for and collect cool things, to ask pointed questions, and to try and learn things people don't want known. This will almost certainly get him into a lot of trouble down the line.

'''MALDWYN THEODOTUS MORRISON:''' Yes, that is his full name. No, you may not call him by it.
 
==Miscellaneous==
===Trivia/Facts===
* Theo babbles when he's nervous. This has been observed in action -- repeatedly.
* Theo is followed around by a [http://gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Card/Details.aspx?multiverseid=50179 Myr Servitor] he has dubbed Kickotron. The name is both a stupid joke and pretty appropriate.
* Theo has been gathering equipment to make his life easier. This list includes an [[Eclipse Phase-1|"ecto"]], a trio of [[Ravnica-1|Guild Signets]] (including the revised Izzet one), a sword from a [[Princess Bubblegum|privately-owned dungeon]], and a .45-caliber pistol that has exchanged owners multiple times.
* Theo plays ALO. He plays a Leprechaun, and largely hits things with hammers and makes the hammers what hit things.
 
===Soundtrack===
# Avantasia -- [http://youtu.be/MJLjuJJSDvE Forever Is A Long Time]
# The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/APHVIG-s8Ws Universe]
# Mumford & Sons -- [http://youtu.be/a2e8-ZmtU7c Dust Bowl Dance]
 
}}

===Decks===
====Anterior Causality====

Anterior Causality (sometimes called "Tolarian Toolbox") is a mono-Blue deck focusing on Suspended cards and field manipulation. It uses a combination of time effects (delaying the casting of spells and providing extra turns to cast more, for instance) to prevent an enemy offense from forming, and then uses one of several creatures to overwhelm any defense.

(Anterior Causality doesn't actually allow for any OOC turn manipulation unless opponents think that'd be fun; it's just more time to "build up" in the context of the game-within-a-game and cool stuff to pose.)

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554297

====Goat Simulator====

Sometimes you just need an endless supply of expendable minions. Goat Simulator is a mono-White deck built with this thought in mind, focused around using Kithkin -- short, telepathic shepherds native to a strange dualistic plane -- to herd goats onto the battlefield and then use them to overrun your opponents. With a number of options included to make the inevitable goat swarm incredibly strong in a variety of ways, and an equal number of methods available to get even more goats on the field at once, Goat Simulator is a deck whose strength should not be underestimated... even if they /are/ kind of adorable.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/719511

====Plan B====

"Plan B" is a deck best described as "desperate times call for desperate measures." With a slew of synergistic artifacts, a few landscape-blasting lasers and a rapidly-upgrading machine army, the deck lives up to its name as the ultimate backup plan. "Plan B" is slow to build up, using interlocking parts to make a dangerous machine. In the end, it's remarkably straightforward, using massive golems to crush the opposition.

"Plan B" has an oddity: the Darksteel Reactor, an indestructible object that, were it to come online, would provides limitless power with which to rapidly forge a machine army. Its inclusion makes a long, drawn-out battle against the deck unwise, though the likelihood of it going off is slim enough that it becomes a sort of "Plan C" rather than "Plan B."

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554254

====Mirran Metal====

All the planes in the Multiverse create weapons to war with, and the artificial world of Mirrodin is no exception. Collecting the best among them, Mirran Metal puts deadly artifacts in the hands of talented artificers and skilled warriors, using their often-unique powers to level the playing field. With a dagger hosting a demon lord's essence and a sleeping dragon-turned-sword included in the mix, Mirran Metal has a truly impressive number of ways to defeat the enemy. When mythical weapons arent enough, Khemba, Kha Regent leads the leonin prides into battle, and the armaments of the legendary hero Kaldra wait to be gathered so the hero's avatar may walk again.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/705642

====Weapons of the Gods====
A mono-White deck built around enhancing creatures, Weapons of the Gods features a number of ways for making a warrior more than they are. With the inclusion of the Nyxborn, creatures from the starry sky of Theros who can bestow their strength on the worthy or take up arms themselves, this deck's flexibility lies in its capability to both empower one or summon many. When things get too hot for the Nyxborn to handle, Heliod, Theros' God of the Sun steps in to level the playing field -- and a Mass Calcify in the sideboard means that even the seemingly-endless ranks of the dead or the monstrous can be stopped in their tracks with enough time and preparation.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/729870
==Logs==
{{Character Logs}}
==Cutscenes==
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Theo Morrison

2015-10-31T00:05:45Z

Binary:

{{CharacterNoLogs
|NameOnMUSH=Theo Morrison
|Color= #6495ED
|Char_id=317
|Img=http://i.imgur.com/29FhfLG.png
|FullName=Maldwyn Theodotus Morrison
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human (Planeswalker)
|Theme=Deckmaster-1
|Chartype=OC
|Function=Theo, the Deckmaster
|Faction=Unaffiliated
|Rank=X-None
|Ranktype=Unaffiliated
|Groups=[[Gatecrashers Union]], [[Users.Net]], [[Heaven Or Hell]]
|Quote="Okay, things are about to get both really stupid and completely amazing."
|PAge=18
|AAge=18
|Aging=Yes
|Height=5'9"
|Weight=200 lbs.
|Hair=Red-brown
|Eyes=Green
|Voice=
|Song=The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/mdu8yYhtp9s Universe]
|Profile=A young man from an Earth like many others, Theo Morrison is many things: a student, a gamer... and a Planeswalker. After narrowly avoiding death by meteor, Theo's latent Planeswalker's Spark ignited, the previously-unknown inborn talent suddenly granting him phenomenal cosmic power and little knowledge of how to use it. Curiously, a popular card game on his home Earth functions with this power, allowing him the ability to conjure armies and lay waste to his enemies... but only if he plays by the rules. Clever, curious, outspoken and otherwise friendly, Theo wants nothing more than to explore the Multiverse, see all there is to see, and to hone his newfound strength along the way -- and will accept nothing less, either. However, between his reliance on the game, his near-nonexistent skill in typical combat and his growing heroic streak, Theo seems destined to get into deeper trouble than he can handle alone sooner rather than later...
|Powers='''PLANESWALKER'S SPARK:''' Theo possesses an ignited Planeswalker's Spark, an inborn talent granting him several abilities. First and foremost is the ability to sense and call upon large quantities of mana very quickly, though only from the local environs. Second is the ability to harness said mana in order to fuel spells of a scale beyond the ability of normal mages, and to do so much more swiftly. It also gives him the eponymous ability to travel between planes -- more specifically, to travel between Unified worlds he knows of or has been to (see Planar Travel, below). Theo's ability to draw upon mana can be blocked by the right forces (or, in some instances, resisted). Drawing mana from certain locations might also be considered unwise, carrying with it various repercussions, be it magical (from tainted mana, for instance) or otherwise (like, say, drawing on mana from an intelligent place without permission).

'''PLANAR TRAVEL:''' By opening momentary doorways in space, Theo can travel the Multiverse without any external aid. Theo's planeswalking activation method requires directed will, a shock of some kind to reflexively draw upon local mana, and sudden motion. Due to the required ritual, the amount of mana required to open a hole and his total lack of short-range teleportation capability, Theo's planeswalking ability is effectively useless in combat. While he is capable of bringing passengers through the Aether with him, the dangers inherent in his method of transit make it extremely risky for anyone who lacks a method of protection against the Aether's effects to come with him. The usual wards against teleportation will suffice to prevent use of this power. (See +info Theo/Planeswalking for more.)

'''DECKMASTER:''' Like most Planeswalkers, Theo is a powerful mage, capable of using large amounts of mana to craft spells of immense power. Unlike most Planeswalkers, Theo requires a very specific focus to accomplish feats of magic: a deck of trading cards from a particular game from his homeworld. Theo's arsenal of spells is wide and varied, ranging from flinging fireballs to conjuring creatures and beyond, but they always follow a particular theme or pattern governed by the color of mana used to cast them and the composition of his deck. Creatures and objects summoned with this ability are strictly temporary, though the effects of something like a conjured lightning bolt might not be. Theo is currently only capable of channeling and controlling Blue and White mana, limiting his range of effects. While he can draw on other colors of mana and convert them to generic, colorless mana, he can't use them to cast colored spells outside his specialty. (Some spell effects, such as those that cause physical or mental alteration, require consent. See +info Theo/Deckmaster1 and 2 for more details.)

'''MAGICAL POTENTIAL:''' Theo has surprising innate magical potential. At the moment, this only manifests through his deck-based abilities, though he is capable of learning to emulate card effects outside the bounds of a duel through time and effort, and already has access to several minor tricks in that regard. (See +info Theo/Spells_Known for more.)
|Skills='''MUNDANE SKILLS:''' Theo possesses all the skills associated with being a 21st-century urbanite and has a practiced knack for illustration. He's also got an excellent memory; he can generally see or hear something once and reproduce it with exceptional accuracy. (Consent required to perfectly recall information obtained from scenes or other sources outside my direct control.)

'''MAD SKILLS:''' Theo is an exceptional player of games of skill, including card games, board games, and war games. While this to some degree translates to other mediums -- like being good at skill-based MMORPGs, for instance -- it primarily means that if you need someone to beat Death at chess to save a soul, he's your guy.
|Assets='''COOL STUFF:''' Theo has been slowly accumulating objects from various Multiversal locations and implementing them into his usual list of things to carry around. This includes a growing variety of weapons, tools and miscellaneous helpful objects. You never know when youre going to need a frog-themed sword or a twined bit of vine that slows your fall.

'''MANA FIX:''' Among his pieces of exceptionally useful gear are what Theo would call "mana fix," and what anyone else would call "some kind of magical converter." These objects, signets of membership normally given to the Izzet and Azorius Guilds of Ravnica (and a Protoabstractum made from one of the former), allow him to convert normally-colorless or wrong-colored mana from his environment into useful colors. While this is useful in a pinch and when he only needs a little of a particular type of mana, they have a limit to how much they can convert at once, and are insufficient to do more than somewhat mitigate his reliance on specific terrain.

'''DECKS:''' Theo has a number of decks of trading cards he carries, foci through which he channels mana to cast spells and summon creatures. While his actual card collection is quite large, the number of decks he has that are useful in a Multiversal context are somewhat more limited. Without outside alteration, Theo's decks are vulnerable to anything that might normally damage pieces of card stock in a thin sleeve of plastic, though Aura and other items prevent casual damage to them when they're in use. Notably, Theo's decks are not unique, being constructed from a selection of mass-produced components for a game; thus, should they be damaged or destroyed, he can replace them fairly quickly and with relative ease. (See +info Theo/Decks for a list of approved decks in play.)
|NPCs='''KICKOTRON, MYR SERVITOR:''' Kickotron is a Myr Servitor that Theo keeps summoned for all kinds of busywork. Small, silent and relentlessly dedicated to doing whatever it is it's told to do, Kickotron is useful for utility but not so much in a fight. (PL 22)

'''ABSTRACTUM:''' Theo has an Abstractum, a Blue-type named Aetherwright meant to enhance and modify his Deckmaster abilities and give him further mastery over his unusual powers. See the character Abstractum.Net for further information.|Disadvantages='''COMBAT INEPT:''' Outside of his deck-based spellcasting, Theo is actually a completely untrained combatant. Barring some afternoons spent hitting people with sticks for fun, any engagement with him outside his element will be laughably one-sided.

'''RULEBOUND:''' Theo's ritualized method of casting spells through trading cards requires him to observe all the rules he would normally have to to play the game. In addition to requiring a legal deck, Theo has to go through all the motions of playing a normal game for anything to work, even in the midst of combat. If he wants to cast a spell hes drawn from his deck, he has to cast it during the right part of his turn and have the mana to use it. Similarly, he has to have garnered an appropriate reaction from an opponent to take another turn, effectively making it all but impossible to use his abilities from a position of surprise or to use them unhindered. Should he render a foe unable to act through any means available to him by means of his deck short of actually defeating them, he may continue to act as normal; similarly, if someone deliberately allows him time to build up, a reaction is unnecessary to continue.

'''SPECIALIZED FOCI:''' While Theo does possess the capacity to learn magic normally and to become a powerful mage to boot, his total reliance on his deck means that without it, he's effectively helpless. Removing it from him before he can begin using it is a perfectly reasonable method of stopping him before he becomes a problem. Until he learns a more traditional method of casting all the spells theoretically available to him via his decks, his reliance on them as a crutch will surely continue.

'''MANA DEPENDENCY:''' Theo's spellcasting ability relies heavily on the use of mana to function. Spells are grouped according to the color of associated mana needed to cast them, with each color having a particular environment it's found in. If Theo finds himself casting spells of the wrong type in the wrong environment -- say, fighting someone in a forest while attempting to draw blue mana, normally found around islands -- he can be at a significant disadvantage. Certain objects (artifacts) can generate a small amount of mana outside the appropriate environments or alter the color to suit his needs, though they're almost never enough to wholly negate a bad choice of battlefield.

'''CURIOSITY KILLED THE CASTER:''' Theo likes the idea that there are all sorts of cool things out there among the Multiverse. In fact, he might like it a little too much. If given the opportunity, he'll go out of his way to look for and collect cool things, to ask pointed questions, and to try and learn things people don't want known. This will almost certainly get him into a lot of trouble down the line.

'''MALDWYN THEODOTUS MORRISON:''' Yes, that is his full name. No, you may not call him by it.
 
==Miscellaneous==
===Trivia/Facts===
* Theo babbles when he's nervous. This has been observed in action -- repeatedly.
* Theo is followed around by a [http://gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Card/Details.aspx?multiverseid=50179 Myr Servitor] he has dubbed Kickotron. The name is both a stupid joke and pretty appropriate.
* Theo has been gathering equipment to make his life easier. This list includes an [[Eclipse Phase-1|"ecto"]], a trio of [[Ravnica-1|Guild Signets]] (including the revised Izzet one), a sword from a [[Princess Bubblegum|privately-owned dungeon]], and a .45-caliber pistol that has exchanged owners multiple times.
* Theo plays ALO. He plays a Leprechaun, and largely hits things with hammers and makes the hammers what hit things.
 
===Soundtrack===
# Avantasia -- [http://youtu.be/MJLjuJJSDvE Forever Is A Long Time]
# The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/APHVIG-s8Ws Universe]
# Mumford & Sons -- [http://youtu.be/a2e8-ZmtU7c Dust Bowl Dance]
 
}}

===Decks===
====Anterior Causality====

Anterior Causality (sometimes called "Tolarian Toolbox") is a mono-Blue deck focusing on Suspended cards and field manipulation. It uses a combination of time effects (delaying the casting of spells and providing extra turns to cast more, for instance) to prevent an enemy offense from forming, and then uses one of several creatures to overwhelm any defense.

(Anterior Causality doesn't actually allow for any OOC turn manipulation unless opponents think that'd be fun; it's just more time to "build up" in the context of the game-within-a-game and cool stuff to pose.)

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554297

====Goat Simulator====

Sometimes you just need an endless supply of expendable minions. Goat Simulator is a mono-White deck built with this thought in mind, focused around using Kithkin -- short, telepathic shepherds native to a strange dualistic plane -- to herd goats onto the battlefield and then use them to overrun your opponents. With a number of options included to make the inevitable goat swarm incredibly strong in a variety of ways, and an equal number of methods available to get even more goats on the field at once, Goat Simulator is a deck whose strength should not be underestimated... even if they /are/ kind of adorable.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/719511

====Plan B====

"Plan B" is a deck best described as "desperate times call for desperate measures." With a slew of synergistic artifacts, a few landscape-blasting lasers and a rapidly-upgrading machine army, the deck lives up to its name as the ultimate backup plan. "Plan B" is slow to build up, using interlocking parts to make a dangerous machine. In the end, it's remarkably straightforward, using massive golems to crush the opposition.

"Plan B" has an oddity: the Darksteel Reactor, an indestructible object that, were it to come online, would provides limitless power with which to rapidly forge a machine army. Its inclusion makes a long, drawn-out battle against the deck unwise, though the likelihood of it going off is slim enough that it becomes a sort of "Plan C" rather than "Plan B."

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554254

====Mirran Metal====

All the planes in the Multiverse create weapons to war with, and the artificial world of Mirrodin is no exception. Collecting the best among them, Mirran Metal puts deadly artifacts in the hands of talented artificers and skilled warriors, using their often-unique powers to level the playing field. With a dagger hosting a demon lord's essence and a sleeping dragon-turned-sword included in the mix, Mirran Metal has a truly impressive number of ways to defeat the enemy. When mythical weapons arent enough, Khemba, Kha Regent leads the leonin prides into battle, and the armaments of the legendary hero Kaldra wait to be gathered so the hero's avatar may walk again.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/705642

====Weapons of the Gods====
A mono-White deck built around enhancing creatures, Weapons of the Gods features a number of ways for making a warrior more than they are. With the inclusion of the Nyxborn, creatures from the starry sky of Theros who can bestow their strength on the worthy or take up arms themselves, this deck's flexibility lies in its capability to both empower one or summon many. When things get too hot for the Nyxborn to handle, Heliod, Theros' God of the Sun steps in to level the playing field -- and a Mass Calcify in the sideboard means that even the seemingly-endless ranks of the dead or the monstrous can be stopped in their tracks with enough time and preparation.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/729870
==Logs==
{{Character Logs}}
==Cutscenes==
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Theo Morrison

2015-10-30T20:13:45Z

Binary:

{{CharacterNoLogs
|NameOnMUSH=Theo Morrison
|Color= #6495ED
|Char_id=317
|Img=http://i.imgur.com/prJ8KYv.png
|FullName=Maldwyn Theodotus Morrison
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human (Planeswalker)
|Theme=Deckmaster-1
|Chartype=OC
|Function=Theo, the Deckmaster
|Faction=Unaffiliated
|Rank=X-None
|Ranktype=Unaffiliated
|Groups=[[Gatecrashers Union]], [[Users.Net]], [[Heaven Or Hell]]
|Quote="Okay, things are about to get both really stupid and completely amazing."
|PAge=18
|AAge=18
|Aging=Yes
|Height=5'9"
|Weight=200 lbs.
|Hair=Red-brown
|Eyes=Green
|Voice=
|Song=The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/mdu8yYhtp9s Universe]
|Profile=A young man from an Earth like many others, Theo Morrison is many things: a student, a gamer... and a Planeswalker. After narrowly avoiding death by meteor, Theo's latent Planeswalker's Spark ignited, the previously-unknown inborn talent suddenly granting him phenomenal cosmic power and little knowledge of how to use it. Curiously, a popular card game on his home Earth functions with this power, allowing him the ability to conjure armies and lay waste to his enemies... but only if he plays by the rules. Clever, curious, outspoken and otherwise friendly, Theo wants nothing more than to explore the Multiverse, see all there is to see, and to hone his newfound strength along the way -- and will accept nothing less, either. However, between his reliance on the game, his near-nonexistent skill in typical combat and his growing heroic streak, Theo seems destined to get into deeper trouble than he can handle alone sooner rather than later...
|Powers='''PLANESWALKER'S SPARK:''' Theo possesses an ignited Planeswalker's Spark, an inborn talent granting him several abilities. First and foremost is the ability to sense and call upon large quantities of mana very quickly, though only from the local environs. Second is the ability to harness said mana in order to fuel spells of a scale beyond the ability of normal mages, and to do so much more swiftly. It also gives him the eponymous ability to travel between planes -- more specifically, to travel between Unified worlds he knows of or has been to (see Planar Travel, below). Theo's ability to draw upon mana can be blocked by the right forces (or, in some instances, resisted). Drawing mana from certain locations might also be considered unwise, carrying with it various repercussions, be it magical (from tainted mana, for instance) or otherwise (like, say, drawing on mana from an intelligent place without permission).

'''PLANAR TRAVEL:''' By opening momentary doorways in space, Theo can travel the Multiverse without any external aid. Theo's planeswalking activation method requires directed will, a shock of some kind to reflexively draw upon local mana, and sudden motion. Due to the required ritual, the amount of mana required to open a hole and his total lack of short-range teleportation capability, Theo's planeswalking ability is effectively useless in combat. While he is capable of bringing passengers through the Aether with him, the dangers inherent in his method of transit make it extremely risky for anyone who lacks a method of protection against the Aether's effects to come with him. The usual wards against teleportation will suffice to prevent use of this power. (See +info Theo/Planeswalking for more.)

'''DECKMASTER:''' Like most Planeswalkers, Theo is a powerful mage, capable of using large amounts of mana to craft spells of immense power. Unlike most Planeswalkers, Theo requires a very specific focus to accomplish feats of magic: a deck of trading cards from a particular game from his homeworld. Theo's arsenal of spells is wide and varied, ranging from flinging fireballs to conjuring creatures and beyond, but they always follow a particular theme or pattern governed by the color of mana used to cast them and the composition of his deck. Creatures and objects summoned with this ability are strictly temporary, though the effects of something like a conjured lightning bolt might not be. Theo is currently only capable of channeling and controlling Blue and White mana, limiting his range of effects. While he can draw on other colors of mana and convert them to generic, colorless mana, he can't use them to cast colored spells outside his specialty. (Some spell effects, such as those that cause physical or mental alteration, require consent. See +info Theo/Deckmaster1 and 2 for more details.)

'''MAGICAL POTENTIAL:''' Theo has surprising innate magical potential. At the moment, this only manifests through his deck-based abilities, though he is capable of learning to emulate card effects outside the bounds of a duel through time and effort, and already has access to several minor tricks in that regard. (See +info Theo/Spells_Known for more.)
|Skills='''MUNDANE SKILLS:''' Theo possesses all the skills associated with being a 21st-century urbanite and has a practiced knack for illustration. He's also got an excellent memory; he can generally see or hear something once and reproduce it with exceptional accuracy. (Consent required to perfectly recall information obtained from scenes or other sources outside my direct control.)

'''MAD SKILLS:''' Theo is an exceptional player of games of skill, including card games, board games, and war games. While this to some degree translates to other mediums -- like being good at skill-based MMORPGs, for instance -- it primarily means that if you need someone to beat Death at chess to save a soul, he's your guy.
|Assets='''COOL STUFF:''' Theo has been slowly accumulating objects from various Multiversal locations and implementing them into his usual list of things to carry around. This includes a growing variety of weapons, tools and miscellaneous helpful objects. You never know when youre going to need a frog-themed sword or a twined bit of vine that slows your fall.

'''MANA FIX:''' Among his pieces of exceptionally useful gear are what Theo would call "mana fix," and what anyone else would call "some kind of magical converter." These objects, signets of membership normally given to the Izzet and Azorius Guilds of Ravnica (and a Protoabstractum made from one of the former), allow him to convert normally-colorless or wrong-colored mana from his environment into useful colors. While this is useful in a pinch and when he only needs a little of a particular type of mana, they have a limit to how much they can convert at once, and are insufficient to do more than somewhat mitigate his reliance on specific terrain.

'''DECKS:''' Theo has a number of decks of trading cards he carries, foci through which he channels mana to cast spells and summon creatures. While his actual card collection is quite large, the number of decks he has that are useful in a Multiversal context are somewhat more limited. Without outside alteration, Theo's decks are vulnerable to anything that might normally damage pieces of card stock in a thin sleeve of plastic, though Aura and other items prevent casual damage to them when they're in use. Notably, Theo's decks are not unique, being constructed from a selection of mass-produced components for a game; thus, should they be damaged or destroyed, he can replace them fairly quickly and with relative ease. (See +info Theo/Decks for a list of approved decks in play.)
|NPCs='''KICKOTRON, MYR SERVITOR:''' Kickotron is a Myr Servitor that Theo keeps summoned for all kinds of busywork. Small, silent and relentlessly dedicated to doing whatever it is it's told to do, Kickotron is useful for utility but not so much in a fight. (PL 22)

'''ABSTRACTUM:''' Theo has an Abstractum, a Blue-type named Aetherwright meant to enhance and modify his Deckmaster abilities and give him further mastery over his unusual powers. See the character Abstractum.Net for further information.|Disadvantages='''COMBAT INEPT:''' Outside of his deck-based spellcasting, Theo is actually a completely untrained combatant. Barring some afternoons spent hitting people with sticks for fun, any engagement with him outside his element will be laughably one-sided.

'''RULEBOUND:''' Theo's ritualized method of casting spells through trading cards requires him to observe all the rules he would normally have to to play the game. In addition to requiring a legal deck, Theo has to go through all the motions of playing a normal game for anything to work, even in the midst of combat. If he wants to cast a spell hes drawn from his deck, he has to cast it during the right part of his turn and have the mana to use it. Similarly, he has to have garnered an appropriate reaction from an opponent to take another turn, effectively making it all but impossible to use his abilities from a position of surprise or to use them unhindered. Should he render a foe unable to act through any means available to him by means of his deck short of actually defeating them, he may continue to act as normal; similarly, if someone deliberately allows him time to build up, a reaction is unnecessary to continue.

'''SPECIALIZED FOCI:''' While Theo does possess the capacity to learn magic normally and to become a powerful mage to boot, his total reliance on his deck means that without it, he's effectively helpless. Removing it from him before he can begin using it is a perfectly reasonable method of stopping him before he becomes a problem. Until he learns a more traditional method of casting all the spells theoretically available to him via his decks, his reliance on them as a crutch will surely continue.

'''MANA DEPENDENCY:''' Theo's spellcasting ability relies heavily on the use of mana to function. Spells are grouped according to the color of associated mana needed to cast them, with each color having a particular environment it's found in. If Theo finds himself casting spells of the wrong type in the wrong environment -- say, fighting someone in a forest while attempting to draw blue mana, normally found around islands -- he can be at a significant disadvantage. Certain objects (artifacts) can generate a small amount of mana outside the appropriate environments or alter the color to suit his needs, though they're almost never enough to wholly negate a bad choice of battlefield.

'''CURIOSITY KILLED THE CASTER:''' Theo likes the idea that there are all sorts of cool things out there among the Multiverse. In fact, he might like it a little too much. If given the opportunity, he'll go out of his way to look for and collect cool things, to ask pointed questions, and to try and learn things people don't want known. This will almost certainly get him into a lot of trouble down the line.

'''MALDWYN THEODOTUS MORRISON:''' Yes, that is his full name. No, you may not call him by it.
 
==Miscellaneous==
===Trivia/Facts===
* Theo babbles when he's nervous. This has been observed in action -- repeatedly.
* Theo is followed around by a [http://gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Card/Details.aspx?multiverseid=50179 Myr Servitor] he has dubbed Kickotron. The name is both a stupid joke and pretty appropriate.
* Theo has been gathering equipment to make his life easier. This list includes an [[Eclipse Phase-1|"ecto"]], a trio of [[Ravnica-1|Guild Signets]] (including the revised Izzet one), a sword from a [[Princess Bubblegum|privately-owned dungeon]], and a .45-caliber pistol that has exchanged owners multiple times.
* Theo plays ALO. He plays a Leprechaun, and largely hits things with hammers and makes the hammers what hit things.
 
===Soundtrack===
# Avantasia -- [http://youtu.be/MJLjuJJSDvE Forever Is A Long Time]
# The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/APHVIG-s8Ws Universe]
# Mumford & Sons -- [http://youtu.be/a2e8-ZmtU7c Dust Bowl Dance]
 
}}

===Decks===
====Anterior Causality====

Anterior Causality (sometimes called "Tolarian Toolbox") is a mono-Blue deck focusing on Suspended cards and field manipulation. It uses a combination of time effects (delaying the casting of spells and providing extra turns to cast more, for instance) to prevent an enemy offense from forming, and then uses one of several creatures to overwhelm any defense.

(Anterior Causality doesn't actually allow for any OOC turn manipulation unless opponents think that'd be fun; it's just more time to "build up" in the context of the game-within-a-game and cool stuff to pose.)

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554297

====Goat Simulator====

Sometimes you just need an endless supply of expendable minions. Goat Simulator is a mono-White deck built with this thought in mind, focused around using Kithkin -- short, telepathic shepherds native to a strange dualistic plane -- to herd goats onto the battlefield and then use them to overrun your opponents. With a number of options included to make the inevitable goat swarm incredibly strong in a variety of ways, and an equal number of methods available to get even more goats on the field at once, Goat Simulator is a deck whose strength should not be underestimated... even if they /are/ kind of adorable.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/719511

====Plan B====

"Plan B" is a deck best described as "desperate times call for desperate measures." With a slew of synergistic artifacts, a few landscape-blasting lasers and a rapidly-upgrading machine army, the deck lives up to its name as the ultimate backup plan. "Plan B" is slow to build up, using interlocking parts to make a dangerous machine. In the end, it's remarkably straightforward, using massive golems to crush the opposition.

"Plan B" has an oddity: the Darksteel Reactor, an indestructible object that, were it to come online, would provides limitless power with which to rapidly forge a machine army. Its inclusion makes a long, drawn-out battle against the deck unwise, though the likelihood of it going off is slim enough that it becomes a sort of "Plan C" rather than "Plan B."

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554254

====Mirran Metal====

All the planes in the Multiverse create weapons to war with, and the artificial world of Mirrodin is no exception. Collecting the best among them, Mirran Metal puts deadly artifacts in the hands of talented artificers and skilled warriors, using their often-unique powers to level the playing field. With a dagger hosting a demon lord's essence and a sleeping dragon-turned-sword included in the mix, Mirran Metal has a truly impressive number of ways to defeat the enemy. When mythical weapons arent enough, Khemba, Kha Regent leads the leonin prides into battle, and the armaments of the legendary hero Kaldra wait to be gathered so the hero's avatar may walk again.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/705642

====Weapons of the Gods====
A mono-White deck built around enhancing creatures, Weapons of the Gods features a number of ways for making a warrior more than they are. With the inclusion of the Nyxborn, creatures from the starry sky of Theros who can bestow their strength on the worthy or take up arms themselves, this deck's flexibility lies in its capability to both empower one or summon many. When things get too hot for the Nyxborn to handle, Heliod, Theros' God of the Sun steps in to level the playing field -- and a Mass Calcify in the sideboard means that even the seemingly-endless ranks of the dead or the monstrous can be stopped in their tracks with enough time and preparation.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/729870
==Logs==
{{Character Logs}}
==Cutscenes==
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Theo Morrison

2015-10-30T20:13:03Z

Binary: Changed picture.

{{CharacterNoLogs
|NameOnMUSH=Theo Morrison
|Color= #6495ED
|Char_id=317
|Img=http://i.imgur.com/prJ8KYv.png
|FullName=Maldwyn Theodotus Morrison
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human (Planeswalker)
|Theme=Deckmaster-1
|Chartype=OC
|Function=Theo, the Deckmaster
|Faction=Unaffiliated
|Rank=X-None
|Ranktype=Unaffiliated
|Groups=[[Gatecrashers Union]], [[Users.Net]]
|Quote="Okay, things are about to get both really stupid and completely amazing."
|PAge=18
|AAge=18
|Aging=Yes
|Height=5'9"
|Weight=200 lbs.
|Hair=Red-brown
|Eyes=Green
|Voice=
|Song=The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/mdu8yYhtp9s Universe]
|Profile=A young man from an Earth like many others, Theo Morrison is many things: a student, a gamer... and a Planeswalker. After narrowly avoiding death by meteor, Theo's latent Planeswalker's Spark ignited, the previously-unknown inborn talent suddenly granting him phenomenal cosmic power and little knowledge of how to use it. Curiously, a popular card game on his home Earth functions with this power, allowing him the ability to conjure armies and lay waste to his enemies... but only if he plays by the rules. Clever, curious, outspoken and otherwise friendly, Theo wants nothing more than to explore the Multiverse, see all there is to see, and to hone his newfound strength along the way -- and will accept nothing less, either. However, between his reliance on the game, his near-nonexistent skill in typical combat and his growing heroic streak, Theo seems destined to get into deeper trouble than he can handle alone sooner rather than later...
|Powers='''PLANESWALKER'S SPARK:''' Theo possesses an ignited Planeswalker's Spark, an inborn talent granting him several abilities. First and foremost is the ability to sense and call upon large quantities of mana very quickly, though only from the local environs. Second is the ability to harness said mana in order to fuel spells of a scale beyond the ability of normal mages, and to do so much more swiftly. It also gives him the eponymous ability to travel between planes -- more specifically, to travel between Unified worlds he knows of or has been to (see Planar Travel, below). Theo's ability to draw upon mana can be blocked by the right forces (or, in some instances, resisted). Drawing mana from certain locations might also be considered unwise, carrying with it various repercussions, be it magical (from tainted mana, for instance) or otherwise (like, say, drawing on mana from an intelligent place without permission).

'''PLANAR TRAVEL:''' By opening momentary doorways in space, Theo can travel the Multiverse without any external aid. Theo's planeswalking activation method requires directed will, a shock of some kind to reflexively draw upon local mana, and sudden motion. Due to the required ritual, the amount of mana required to open a hole and his total lack of short-range teleportation capability, Theo's planeswalking ability is effectively useless in combat. While he is capable of bringing passengers through the Aether with him, the dangers inherent in his method of transit make it extremely risky for anyone who lacks a method of protection against the Aether's effects to come with him. The usual wards against teleportation will suffice to prevent use of this power. (See +info Theo/Planeswalking for more.)

'''DECKMASTER:''' Like most Planeswalkers, Theo is a powerful mage, capable of using large amounts of mana to craft spells of immense power. Unlike most Planeswalkers, Theo requires a very specific focus to accomplish feats of magic: a deck of trading cards from a particular game from his homeworld. Theo's arsenal of spells is wide and varied, ranging from flinging fireballs to conjuring creatures and beyond, but they always follow a particular theme or pattern governed by the color of mana used to cast them and the composition of his deck. Creatures and objects summoned with this ability are strictly temporary, though the effects of something like a conjured lightning bolt might not be. Theo is currently only capable of channeling and controlling Blue and White mana, limiting his range of effects. While he can draw on other colors of mana and convert them to generic, colorless mana, he can't use them to cast colored spells outside his specialty. (Some spell effects, such as those that cause physical or mental alteration, require consent. See +info Theo/Deckmaster1 and 2 for more details.)

'''MAGICAL POTENTIAL:''' Theo has surprising innate magical potential. At the moment, this only manifests through his deck-based abilities, though he is capable of learning to emulate card effects outside the bounds of a duel through time and effort, and already has access to several minor tricks in that regard. (See +info Theo/Spells_Known for more.)
|Skills='''MUNDANE SKILLS:''' Theo possesses all the skills associated with being a 21st-century urbanite and has a practiced knack for illustration. He's also got an excellent memory; he can generally see or hear something once and reproduce it with exceptional accuracy. (Consent required to perfectly recall information obtained from scenes or other sources outside my direct control.)

'''MAD SKILLS:''' Theo is an exceptional player of games of skill, including card games, board games, and war games. While this to some degree translates to other mediums -- like being good at skill-based MMORPGs, for instance -- it primarily means that if you need someone to beat Death at chess to save a soul, he's your guy.
|Assets='''COOL STUFF:''' Theo has been slowly accumulating objects from various Multiversal locations and implementing them into his usual list of things to carry around. This includes a growing variety of weapons, tools and miscellaneous helpful objects. You never know when youre going to need a frog-themed sword or a twined bit of vine that slows your fall.

'''MANA FIX:''' Among his pieces of exceptionally useful gear are what Theo would call "mana fix," and what anyone else would call "some kind of magical converter." These objects, signets of membership normally given to the Izzet and Azorius Guilds of Ravnica (and a Protoabstractum made from one of the former), allow him to convert normally-colorless or wrong-colored mana from his environment into useful colors. While this is useful in a pinch and when he only needs a little of a particular type of mana, they have a limit to how much they can convert at once, and are insufficient to do more than somewhat mitigate his reliance on specific terrain.

'''DECKS:''' Theo has a number of decks of trading cards he carries, foci through which he channels mana to cast spells and summon creatures. While his actual card collection is quite large, the number of decks he has that are useful in a Multiversal context are somewhat more limited. Without outside alteration, Theo's decks are vulnerable to anything that might normally damage pieces of card stock in a thin sleeve of plastic, though Aura and other items prevent casual damage to them when they're in use. Notably, Theo's decks are not unique, being constructed from a selection of mass-produced components for a game; thus, should they be damaged or destroyed, he can replace them fairly quickly and with relative ease. (See +info Theo/Decks for a list of approved decks in play.)
|NPCs='''KICKOTRON, MYR SERVITOR:''' Kickotron is a Myr Servitor that Theo keeps summoned for all kinds of busywork. Small, silent and relentlessly dedicated to doing whatever it is it's told to do, Kickotron is useful for utility but not so much in a fight. (PL 22)

'''ABSTRACTUM:''' Theo has an Abstractum, a Blue-type named Aetherwright meant to enhance and modify his Deckmaster abilities and give him further mastery over his unusual powers. See the character Abstractum.Net for further information.|Disadvantages='''COMBAT INEPT:''' Outside of his deck-based spellcasting, Theo is actually a completely untrained combatant. Barring some afternoons spent hitting people with sticks for fun, any engagement with him outside his element will be laughably one-sided.

'''RULEBOUND:''' Theo's ritualized method of casting spells through trading cards requires him to observe all the rules he would normally have to to play the game. In addition to requiring a legal deck, Theo has to go through all the motions of playing a normal game for anything to work, even in the midst of combat. If he wants to cast a spell hes drawn from his deck, he has to cast it during the right part of his turn and have the mana to use it. Similarly, he has to have garnered an appropriate reaction from an opponent to take another turn, effectively making it all but impossible to use his abilities from a position of surprise or to use them unhindered. Should he render a foe unable to act through any means available to him by means of his deck short of actually defeating them, he may continue to act as normal; similarly, if someone deliberately allows him time to build up, a reaction is unnecessary to continue.

'''SPECIALIZED FOCI:''' While Theo does possess the capacity to learn magic normally and to become a powerful mage to boot, his total reliance on his deck means that without it, he's effectively helpless. Removing it from him before he can begin using it is a perfectly reasonable method of stopping him before he becomes a problem. Until he learns a more traditional method of casting all the spells theoretically available to him via his decks, his reliance on them as a crutch will surely continue.

'''MANA DEPENDENCY:''' Theo's spellcasting ability relies heavily on the use of mana to function. Spells are grouped according to the color of associated mana needed to cast them, with each color having a particular environment it's found in. If Theo finds himself casting spells of the wrong type in the wrong environment -- say, fighting someone in a forest while attempting to draw blue mana, normally found around islands -- he can be at a significant disadvantage. Certain objects (artifacts) can generate a small amount of mana outside the appropriate environments or alter the color to suit his needs, though they're almost never enough to wholly negate a bad choice of battlefield.

'''CURIOSITY KILLED THE CASTER:''' Theo likes the idea that there are all sorts of cool things out there among the Multiverse. In fact, he might like it a little too much. If given the opportunity, he'll go out of his way to look for and collect cool things, to ask pointed questions, and to try and learn things people don't want known. This will almost certainly get him into a lot of trouble down the line.

'''MALDWYN THEODOTUS MORRISON:''' Yes, that is his full name. No, you may not call him by it.
 
==Miscellaneous==
===Trivia/Facts===
* Theo babbles when he's nervous. This has been observed in action -- repeatedly.
* Theo is followed around by a [http://gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Card/Details.aspx?multiverseid=50179 Myr Servitor] he has dubbed Kickotron. The name is both a stupid joke and pretty appropriate.
* Theo has been gathering equipment to make his life easier. This list includes an [[Eclipse Phase-1|"ecto"]], a trio of [[Ravnica-1|Guild Signets]] (including the revised Izzet one), a sword from a [[Princess Bubblegum|privately-owned dungeon]], and a .45-caliber pistol that has exchanged owners multiple times.
* Theo plays ALO. He plays a Leprechaun, and largely hits things with hammers and makes the hammers what hit things.
 
===Soundtrack===
# Avantasia -- [http://youtu.be/MJLjuJJSDvE Forever Is A Long Time]
# The Living End -- [http://youtu.be/APHVIG-s8Ws Universe]
# Mumford & Sons -- [http://youtu.be/a2e8-ZmtU7c Dust Bowl Dance]
 
}}

===Decks===
====Anterior Causality====

Anterior Causality (sometimes called "Tolarian Toolbox") is a mono-Blue deck focusing on Suspended cards and field manipulation. It uses a combination of time effects (delaying the casting of spells and providing extra turns to cast more, for instance) to prevent an enemy offense from forming, and then uses one of several creatures to overwhelm any defense.

(Anterior Causality doesn't actually allow for any OOC turn manipulation unless opponents think that'd be fun; it's just more time to "build up" in the context of the game-within-a-game and cool stuff to pose.)

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554297

====Goat Simulator====

Sometimes you just need an endless supply of expendable minions. Goat Simulator is a mono-White deck built with this thought in mind, focused around using Kithkin -- short, telepathic shepherds native to a strange dualistic plane -- to herd goats onto the battlefield and then use them to overrun your opponents. With a number of options included to make the inevitable goat swarm incredibly strong in a variety of ways, and an equal number of methods available to get even more goats on the field at once, Goat Simulator is a deck whose strength should not be underestimated... even if they /are/ kind of adorable.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/719511

====Plan B====

"Plan B" is a deck best described as "desperate times call for desperate measures." With a slew of synergistic artifacts, a few landscape-blasting lasers and a rapidly-upgrading machine army, the deck lives up to its name as the ultimate backup plan. "Plan B" is slow to build up, using interlocking parts to make a dangerous machine. In the end, it's remarkably straightforward, using massive golems to crush the opposition.

"Plan B" has an oddity: the Darksteel Reactor, an indestructible object that, were it to come online, would provides limitless power with which to rapidly forge a machine army. Its inclusion makes a long, drawn-out battle against the deck unwise, though the likelihood of it going off is slim enough that it becomes a sort of "Plan C" rather than "Plan B."

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/554254

====Mirran Metal====

All the planes in the Multiverse create weapons to war with, and the artificial world of Mirrodin is no exception. Collecting the best among them, Mirran Metal puts deadly artifacts in the hands of talented artificers and skilled warriors, using their often-unique powers to level the playing field. With a dagger hosting a demon lord's essence and a sleeping dragon-turned-sword included in the mix, Mirran Metal has a truly impressive number of ways to defeat the enemy. When mythical weapons arent enough, Khemba, Kha Regent leads the leonin prides into battle, and the armaments of the legendary hero Kaldra wait to be gathered so the hero's avatar may walk again.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/705642

====Weapons of the Gods====
A mono-White deck built around enhancing creatures, Weapons of the Gods features a number of ways for making a warrior more than they are. With the inclusion of the Nyxborn, creatures from the starry sky of Theros who can bestow their strength on the worthy or take up arms themselves, this deck's flexibility lies in its capability to both empower one or summon many. When things get too hot for the Nyxborn to handle, Heliod, Theros' God of the Sun steps in to level the playing field -- and a Mass Calcify in the sideboard means that even the seemingly-endless ranks of the dead or the monstrous can be stopped in their tracks with enough time and preparation.

'''Decklist:''' http://deckbox.org/sets/729870
==Logs==
{{Character Logs}}
==Cutscenes==
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

2670/Half A Space Hulk

2015-07-26T05:42:59Z

Binary: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/07/23 |Location=Callidus Amicae |Synopsis=A group of Unionites and mercenaries are hired to deal with a problem aboard the Callidus Amicae. It..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/07/23
|Location=Callidus Amicae
|Synopsis=A group of Unionites and mercenaries are hired to deal with a problem aboard the Callidus Amicae. It goes well! Mostly.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=7, 42, 518, 571, 632, 796, 833, 834
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' The Callidus Amicae is, in plain terms, friggin' enormous. Five kilometers long and nearly a klick wide, the cruiser exists on a scale so large that it's hard to believe there isn't a city in there -- because, with a typical crew size of nearly a hundred thousand men, there pretty much is. In fact, the Callidus Amicae's crew complement is a good deal smaller than that, and takes up a lesser amount of space as a result. That is, in fact, the crux of the problem. A missive was sent to the Union and to the Syndicate once the Callidus Amicae had stopped at a waystation in the distant Void of the Multiverse: they had a problem, and would you care to help resolve it for a fair amount of pay? In truth, Captain Hexam could have had his men handle the issue internally, but that would not get their name out there. They needed people to know who they were and what they had to offer before profit could be had. That is, after all, the name of the game. The waystation's warpgate lets out near the space-dock where an Imperial spacecraft is waiting: an Aquila Lander, a small winged shuttlecraft named for its resemblance to the Imperial sigil. The multiple engine vents that run up the wings come together to give it a distinctly feathered appearance. Three individuals wait outside: two man in black and grey carapace armor carrying short, boxy-looking rifles and wearing full-face helmets with an almost skeletal design stand to either side of the entry ramp. Between them, a more feminine figure with hooves rather than feet waits, wearing a dark green and white jumpsuit and holding some form of tablet. The tall, blue-skinned Tau woman raises one hand when the prospective mercenaries (and allies, to boot) enter the hangar. "Greetings! I am Vre'Yan. I will be ferrying you and your equipment to the ship." She smiles, an expression that looks slightly odd with the lack of a nose and the Y-shaped slit running between her eyes and onto her forehead. "I will also attempt to answer any questions posed to me, despite that being far outside my realm of expertise and this being /quite/ well-known, at the Commander's request." Her smile becomes a touch more forced. The two troopers exchange a glance behind her. One shrugs a little. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     As the SGB Crimson Spectre makes it approach after emerging from a warpgate, the crew is greeted by an ENORMOUS ship. Maaka and Kaz stare in shock as they make their way to the waystation itself, landing not far from the warpstation.     A ship of this size in their world would've cost innumerable resources and funds, as well as take the better part of a century to construct...and yet the Imperium seems to have so many of these they lose track of them.     Maaka takes one more look at the ship itself, before she begins to get the big guns.     She arrives with her helmet currently unfolded, and her EM-GASH coilgun slung over her shoulder as well as her Kama P40 pistol and a PDW to accompany it. As the cyborg approaches the tau woman, her head bows before she speaks. "I worked alongside one of your people before, though she was an Exalt if I remember right. We'd taken an investigation to this ice world, nothing too notable about it." She says conversationally, lying through her teeth regarding the truth of the matter in those caves, where Dark Eldar were shredded to bits by Necrons, one predator destroyed by an even worse one.     Even thinking about the Necrons sends a chill up the normally stoic Alexis Maaka's spine.     Passing that thought away, she asks, "So what exactly is it that needs our help this Commander can't send his own troops to deal with?" Not that she's complaining, even if it is curious, but one has to get known somehow in the Multiverse Alexis supposes. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Why is Valentha here? Well, any opportunity to get out there and learn, get -her- name out there, figure out who's who and other factoids is one worth taking. So she's come in her ridiculous getup, the inside of her jacket stuffed with all sorts of gear and gadgets.     "Well," she begins smoothly, "Some info on whatever's got the ship tied up would be a good start." Valentha plants a hand on her hip, letting her slightly impish but merry grin do more of the speaking for her. "I'm loaded for bear. Demigod bear, even."     Not that she looks it. Not even SLIGHTLY. 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Before she'd left her own ship behind, Septette had ensured her cloak was wrapped snugly- though not too snugly- around her angular frame, that her ear-fins were inconspicuously tucked under a pair of cute and moderately-fluffy earmuffs, and that her reactor core wasn't leaking ionizing radiation again. These 'Rogue Traders' seem like open-minded folk, and they'd know who she is with even a cursory background check, but there's no sense in standing out any more than she has to.      Now that it's time to board, Ms. Arcubielle allows herself a little smile: it isn't often that she's one of the least-intimidating people in a room. "No questions here," she replies in a sunny, synthetic alto before turning her attention to her teammates. "Demigod bear? Them's fightin' words, Valentha," the robot girl murmurs with tongue firmly in cheek. "Could rustle up one or two of them back home, should this mission disappoint ya." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Holy..." Staren breathes, after stepping up to a window at the spacedock and seeing the distant ship they'll be flying to.     He's seen Transformers the size of cities, but a spaceship that size?     It's incredible.     His more immediate destination is the small ship to fly them /to/ the big ship, though. Staren approaches. A spaceship with feathery wings? Interesting aesthetic. He looks over the alien curiously, but she doesn't seem that unusual for the Multiverse. He nods and retracts his visor, "Greetings, I am Staren, researcher of problems for the Union." He holds up his right forearm and taps one of the beam cannons on the side with his left index finger, smiling a bit. "And sometimes, assistant with 'solving' those problems." He lowers his left arm while making a vague, palm-up gesture with his right. "So, your ship has... unwanted passengers. Are any specific threats known or suspected? Is this an extermination mission or do you think there might be a society there we can reason with?" He shrugs, "Or do you just not know?" 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah tears herself away from staring at the area. Especially the huge warship looming in the distance. The multiverse never ceases to be weird. She looks the female Tau over for a moment as if sizing her up, then steps up to ask questions.     "What kind of environment can we expect in the ship? Is it pressurized? Also what kind of opposition should we be expecting?"     She pauses to take a breath. "And who the hell build something that freaking huge anyway? Corporations don't even usually go that big.. It'd take a completely unified society to even manage the resources for something like that." She pauses a moment, "Either that, or a civilization of religious zealots." She shivers at the thought. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa had got the job it was an interesting offer and she'd been curious to meet O'Mont're Tyr. So here she was she was clad in stealth gear. She'd considered bringing full out carpace armour but that would limit her moblity some. She did however make sure to be wearing a nanofiber vest under her stealth gear though. That was some wonderful beefed up protection she'd found. She nods to Vre'yan. She grins a little bit. "I do given the scale of this ship is there some sort of guest access I can get to it's local network given my area of skills it would be helpful if that is premitted." No the poor dear has no idea about how things work on a Imperium ship. "I won't press but also anything about the local tech and such that I'd need to know would be useful." She's got several weapons on her most of them look like they would be Autoguns as the Imperium calls them but she's packing a odd looking energy weapon also across her back. "Came prepared for about anything myself." She's also got a case carrying something else in it which is unknown for the moment. "Damn that ship could likely bring most of my home world to heel....Oh! I'm Kotone Yamakawa!" She notes to their host. She also looks over to Septette and Sarah. "Hey good to have you aboard." She also looks back to Alexis and will attempt to open a network with those people like Alexis that she's worked with before. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki Kuran, High School Girl, Totally, We Swear, arrives at the designated waystation, in a pair of... Trousers. Well, ok, they're dark blue jeans. And a nice belt! A button-down white shirt. She's got nice cuffs, and the shirt is tailored in the hems, cuffs, waist, and collar, and there's a silver chain with some form of crossy-thing pendant on the end. She looks... really well put together!     She's also wearing a snapback cap and a dorkily huge pair of sunglasses, giving her a sort of 'celebrity/person who doesn't want to be noticed' vibe.     "Ah, yes, hello. I'm Yuuki. From the Union. I'm, ah... I think that's the biggest thing I've ever seen in my life. And it... not only flies, but can move between worlds?" She asks, looking up (through her sunglasses) into space.     She smiles brightly, looking at Vre'Yan. "Oh, um, I didn't know what to bring, so I just brought myself. I have my own weapons, though!" She notes. Though, compared to everyone else...     There's a silver cylinder of a very short baton hanging from her waist.     "... I feel a bit under-armed though. I'm happy to help, though!" 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' "Ah. I see." Vre'Yan nods her head to Alexis. "I have been informed that there have been Tau in the wider Multiverse, but I haven't met any." She tips her head to each of the Elites as they approach; it seems like most of the questions are actually pretty similar, so she starts in on them. "The Callidus Amicae is in good repair thanks to our Void-Master Hiird and the tireless, ceaseless, loud, smelly, incessant and," she changes her tone back to the positive rather than the irritated, "/effective/ maintenance of the Adeptus Mechanicus tech-priests aboard. You should not lack for oxygen, even in the less-inhabited parts of the ship. If you do encounter a depressurized chamber, report it and it will be repaired as soon as possible." /That/ part she seems serious about. "And," she asides to Sarah, still deadly serious (maybe a little more than necessary), "the Imperium is all of these things. This is one of many thousands like it. Please keep that in mind." The two marines exchange glances again, and then just go back to watching them. They give the impression of rolling eyes behind opaque helmets. She bobs her head at Yuuki, attitude brightening some. "Yes! It uses warp engines to propel itself through a dimension the humans call the 'Immaterium,' allowing it to cross great distances very quickly. There are some dangers inherent in this method of travel, but the speed is worth it. But, oh, if you require a weapon, we have a great number. Simply ask one of the marines when you are aboard." "There are no networks as you know them aboard the ship that are not dedicated to drone control," she says to Kotone. "I am not permitted access to those; you would have to ask one of the Earth castes or the Void-Master. I do not recommend it." "As for opposition..." Vre'Yan looks down at her tablet. "A number of maintenance drones have gone offline, and the Hruud technicians sent to repair them refuse to enter the sector of the ship they are housed in. One of the tech-priests went below with a marine escort, but never returned. Commander Deathgaze believes it is a matter that can be handled internally, but Captain Hexam wishes to build positive relations with the Multiverse at large, and thus, offered this chance at employment." "While we suspect it is some manner of large vermin," she adds, "it is not outside the realm of possibility that there was a minor daemonic incursion following the last trip through the Warp. It is very unlikely, however Confessor-Militant Kor is prepared to join you if you believe it necessary." She looks back up. "Time is wasting. We should go." Vre'Yan turns and boards the shuttle. There are seats inside for everyone, but she goes to the cockpit. The two marines wait until everyone is aboard before they follow. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah gets a very sober expression on her face as it's explained that the ship came to be frighteningly close to the way she imagined. She doesn't seem to feel the need for any extra gear so she starts moving, drifting towards Septette and Kotone as she moves to board the shuttle, They're the people she knows best! She also gives a friendly wave to Yuuki, as she looks the most out of place. "Hey! Come join the cool kids!" She offers with a mischievous grin. "So.. we're after either giant rats or demons.. sounds like a fun night." 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     "And also incredibly overly likely to fight itself rather than focus on external problems." ALexis deadpans to Sarah, before listening to Vre's briefing. She nods, logging all of what Vre's been going over dutifully.     Daemons give her reason to frown, and she ponders whether or not she'd be able to live through the risk of daemonic corruption, even if she is half-cybernetic really.     "We'll keep it in mind, ma'am." She says, before glancing to Yuuki. Weapons wise, she isn't sure if the girl would be able to use anything on the cyborg's person, sadly. Ah well, it'll work out.     She also pops her neck, joining the 'cool kids' club as well with a little laugh, ruffling Kotone's hair. "Let's hope it turns out an exterminator is needed, I'd hate to see the alternative." The cyborg adds to Sarah, grabbing a seat and checking the scope on her coilgun while she waits. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "So whatever's in there, was enough to take out this marine escort... do you know of any threats that could do that? How large and well-equipped was this particular escort?"      Staren has questions still, as he heads into the ship. 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Everyone else has asked the pertinent questions, as anticipated. Septette isn't going to waste her (metaphorical) breath on trying to wring further information out of their gracious hosts. Nor is she liable to fawn over the spaceship they're headed to: yes, it's larger than any vessel she's ever seen, but unlike most organics she's capable of visualizing exactly what 'five kilometers long' looks like. The enormous ship is more or less exactly how she'd envisioned it from its description.      So without further ado, the little robot walks up the ramp- at five feet and a bit, she's dwarfed by the marines on either side- and climbs into a chair near the back, pulling her clawed feet up onto the seat and crossing her legs. "You'll be alright, miss," she says to Yuuki. "If anything, I think the other folks here are considerably overprepared." Despite that, there's a nagging worry in the back of her head as she looks over her teammates...      Septette isn't worried about being corrupted by daemons: they're remarkably similar to the creatures that she was built to fight, from what information she's been able to glean. But the others here... they're squishies. Capable squishies, from everything she's seen thus far, but squishies nonetheless. They may need to be shepherded carefully...      For now, she lets Staren and the others do the talking, merely resting her head on a wall and soaking up all the tactically-useful information she can. Half-formed plans dart through her mind already, honing in on vague eventualities. But she needs more data first, and it's likely to be more than the Tau can provide. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Hearing that a squad of MARINES was brought down has Valentha looking Vre'Yan's way VERY sharply aboard the shuttle. It's time for additional questions. "Daemonic incursions? So it sounds like the inside of the ship is not well monitored. No security programs warning of breaches or unusual activity?" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa has not met Yuuki before and takes note of of her she seems nice enough. She doesn't assume anyone here is underarmed Yuuki may just be modest. She now settles in for the ride at this point. She makes note to map their trip on the ship and tag any places like that. She then gets a bit of an eye opening respoinse. "No control network but how could you ...wait are you saying the entire thing outside of your drones analog?!" She's clearly wide eyed at this but seems to be accepting it. "I understand then, I won't do so. I understand about needing to keep drone security." She listens and isn't liking the sounds of this. "Look if we're dealing with something like Daemonic beings? Having someone along who knows how to deal with them is welcome in my book." She's on the shuttle now strapping her self in and is generllly looking the place over. Analog? Everything here might be analog? How do they even get a ship that big to /run/ on that. She finds her hair's riffled and she nods to Alexis as she joins up with Sarah and Maaka. "Hope so, just some alien vermin would be a pretty nice change of pace from what I have encountered lately. "I'd presume they'd be decently armed if they were going with a VIP like a Tech Priest, right? "Everything's not networeked at least as I understand it sounds like they rely on a lot of manual work. Then again this prevents them from being vunrable to a lot of info warfare tactics." 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     "Wow. That is quite amazing!" Yuuki notes, big starry red-brown eyes behind her sunglasses filled with wonder. The world /was/ an amazing place, and not dark and dreary and horrible at all! She heads towards the shuttle, settling on a quiet sort of hopeful.     "Well, that shouldn't be too bad. Well, okay, it /could/ be, but... She gives a nice hopeful look. "That ship's so big they certainly could be lost, and still alive." She knows she's being ultra-optimistic, but she's got this Thing where she really does want to see the best in people and circumstances until things take a horrible tone-shift into HORRIBLE.     It's coming, she knows it, she can feel it in her Normal Girl Bones.     "Though, I have a question. What sort of vermin? Like... big... rats?" She asks.     Oh sweet summer Totally Human child... 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Vre'Yan closes the ship up and takes off. Getting out of the bay is a smooth process, handled by an experienced pilot; getting to the ship is accompanied by a distinct feeling of acceleration, followed by a sort of impromptu fly-by of the starboard side of the enormous vessel as the Tau pilot does a little showing off. One of the two armored men answers the question. Vre'Yan's accent is sibilant; his isn't, but he speaks in a bit of a drawl. "Five-man fire team; shotguns with shipboard rounds." He reaches into a pouch attached to his armor and fishes out a shell, flipping it to Staren. "Wire, glass, bits of ceramite -- the kind of thing that won't puncture a deck but'll do a number to anything made of skin 'n bone they find down there. Tech-priest probably had a laspistol or something, if he was even armed." "Rats? More like hrud, if you ask me," the other mutters. The first leans forward and hits the other with his free hand. "It isn't /hrud/; the Void-Master's got them under control. Naw, you're looking at something bigger than him," nodding at Staren, "with claws /this/ big," he gestures about the width of his shoulders, "that like to hide in the dark and drop offa ceilings. We picked a few up on Omin Apsalus Prime for sale. Maybe a couple got loose." A shrug. The transport pulls into a docking bay. It slows to a stop and then drops to the deck with a lurch and a whine. The ramp drops again, and a number of ship's marines stand waiting, armed and equipped like the two with the group. On their left, a formation of what must be Tau in sleek, curved armor and mono-eye helmets wait, long-barreled rifles held at ease. Their armor is the same shade of dark green as Vre'Yan's jumpsuit. Commander Deathgaze himself stands between the two groups, wearing armor like the other Tau but lacking the helmet, and with a greatcoat worn over the top of it. He's carrying what is clearly a chainsword at his hip, and a pair of mismatched pistols along with it. "Welcome aboard the Callidus Amicae," O'Mont're Tyr says. "I am Commander Deathgaze, first mate of this ship under Captain Hexam. I will be accompanying you on your mission. My men will secure the area behind us, to ensure our entry into the lower decks does not loose anything that may be waiting for us. If you require any additional supplies before we make our entrance, make your requests now." He turns his head to the left and nods. The two groups of infantry turn and spread out, starting to disappear into the vessel. Only a cursory guard -- five Tau and five humans -- are left with him. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren listens to the marines intently. He nods at the description of the rounds they use. He doesn't seem particularly worried by large-clawed space drop bears. "We can proooobably handle something like that..." but he's not willing to promise with 100% certainty.     After COmmander Deathgaze asks if they have any other requests, Staren has a thought: He raises a hand, "Excuse me, are there some test targets we can fire our weapons at to confirm whether any are at risk of puncturing a deck? We might require alternate weapons than those we brought with us." 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     As Alexis inspects the magazine on her coilgun, she overhears the discussion of the guards and frowns. Definitely time for subsonic and low-power loads alright, she was smart to bring both. She dials down the output on her rifle before she whistles sharply at the marine, "Hey, what guage are those shells? I might be willing to pay for a couple cases of those and a shotgun to go with it if you can get to the quartermaster." She says, looking at the shell curiously. "Might help to get on that quickly before we go hunting, most of my kit was designed for much more powerful loads, even if I've got most of this stuff dialed down."     Hopefully she'll get her hands on one of said shotguns, considering the tight quarters of the ship and the circumstances of the hull. Keeping her weapons slung on her person, she joins the rest of the crew with Deathgaze. he seems a charming sort for a...blue cow man with hooves, all things considered. "'s why I asked, Staren." She asides. 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Tyr," the robot says amiably as she disembarks the transport vessel, assuming that he already recognizes her from the job application and radio chatter. Strange that she doesn't use his title, given that he just provided it a moment ago- though her tone and demeanor would indicate that she intends no disrespect at all. In fact, she gives him what might be a curtsy after leaving the ramp.      "I have everything I need," she asserts with a self-assured tone, despite the fact that she's only carrying her cloak and a leather pouch hardly big enough to hold a packed lunch. "That said, is there any way that you could reversibly vent the relevant sections of the ship to space? If I'm not mistaken, a hard vacuum would hurt most vermin considerably more than it would hinder us." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     The phrase 'Shipboard rounds' echos through Sarah's mind, and she makes a mental note not to go wildly throwing her hammer around. It could breach the hull as easily as gunfire and leave a much larger hole. Unfortunately in her mind, that's the biggest danger. Vermin, Hrud and Daemon are all just different words for monster as far as she's concerned. She has zero experience with Daemons or daemonic corruption.     She nods in agreement with Septette's question. "That seems like a good first step. the fact that they called us in suggests we're dealing with something a bit bigger than rats. Something that's not all that bothered by vacuum." 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Valentha snaps a playful salute off to Tyr! "Valentha Summers, Techno-Wizard. And mercenary for the moment. Pleased to finally meet you in the flesh, Commander Deathgaze." She's still not armed. Or armored. But apparently this isn't bothering her at all.     But she's fine, and requests nothing further. She does spend a considerable amount of time going over gadgets inside her jacket and hooked to her pants, among other places. She has weapons, no doubt about that. Although the main one she pulled out looks like an old six-shooter...     "So we're the vanguard! All the excitement's on us. We'd best take it slow and careful. ... Otherwise, someone's gonna lose a head. Corridors like these can be deathtraps." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa has no idea what a Hrud is but gets they can be a problem but the crew seems to have it under control? She thinks that's enough. She looks over the marines and listne to their gear load outs. "I'm carrying some heavier weaponry I and hello Commander Deathgaze. We meet in person at last. I'm Kotone Yamakawa." She seems to be looking over the Tau and humans that make up the fire team that will be moving with them. "I'll keep to my lighter weapons unless it's needed then." Though Staren and Alexis idea to get better suited weapons if their are a problem might be a very good idea. Either way she's about ready to go. She gives Sarah a nod and looks over to Valentha for a moment. "By the number don't split up and cover eachother." The blue haired lady seems to have some experiance with this. She also takes a moment to open the case and a pair of small hovering drones deploy, nothing fancey just mobile cameras. She'll have to thank Rory yet again about having a fabber to work with on small projects. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' The marine glances at Alexis. "Ten-gauge," he says. "Got these from an Arbites supplier. Quartermaster should be able to supply you." "Yes, of course. Here." Tyr nods at Staren, and then turns and gestures towards the marines. A couple of them run off. He smiles slightly at the people he's actually spoken to, inclining his head. "I am glad to be able to put faces to names." Then, Septette's question. "It would need to be done manually, from the maintenance shafts connected to the deck. Imperial vessels are not known for their advanced electronics." Five men come back where two left. Two are lugging a big metal plate, which they setup across the hangar; two others have a box between them, which they put down for the fifth: a hooded, white-robed individual, whose eyes are clearly mechanical replacements and who seems to have a number of wires or tubes running from his neck and head to somewhere under his robe. Some might get an impression of things moving underneath, which the robes keep very well-concealed. (Septette may feel a kinship with this man.) "These," he says in a reedy voice, as the marines open the case, "are Vox Legi-pattern pump-action shotguns. They are normally used by the Adeptus Arbites in fringe worlds; however, the Captain has graciously acquired a large supply for shipboard use. They have been cared for with all the requisite rites and blessings, and are here for your use." Six round magazines, a stock that can be used as an effective club, and a very audible and intimidating pump action. They look pretty nice, all told. Test-firing on the piece of plating shows that small-caliber weapons won't punch holes in the walls, but the shipboard shells might be necessary after all if you aim isn't good. It's unlikely that you'll actually damage the hull armor, but there's always a chance you'll hit something vital in a neighboring room. "If that is all," Tyr says, "we should begin." The path to the below-decks leads into the main artery of the ship, with the enormous vaulted ceilings and the overblown baroque artistry wherever one looks. The door they're headed to isn't far away, and it's already covered by a number of well-armed marines and Tau warriors, who let them pass without trouble. The group gets a few stares, but they're a well-disciplined bunch of the most part, the Tau moreso than the humans. Tyr opens the door and steps through first, descending a metal staircase into a more dimly-lit section of the vessel. He stops at the bottom, where the corridor widens and extends onward. It's maybe fifteen feet high and wide, lacking some of the ornamentation of the other decks. The corridor extends forward out of sight, and with a growing number of sconces damaged, into deeper and deeper darkness. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Stepping off the ship, Yuuki smiles at 'Commander Deathgaze', pausing slightly to nod thougtfully, looking between the marines and the Fire Warriors. Nnnnnnneat.     She bows - low, and rather archaically - to the Tau First Officer. "Greetings. Yuuki Kuran, member of the Union and... Ah... C-concerned party?" She tries, hopefully. It's totally true, she's just a bit... Worried.     Dude's name is Commander /Deathgaze/. She is, in fact, pointedly avoiding his... mono eye? How does that work. "I won't, ah, die if I look at you, mmm?"     At the idea of being the vanguard, she nods at Valentha. "Yeah. I mean, I'd rather risk my neck than having other people risk theirs. I'm pretty confident in keeping mine. Not, uh, avoiding locking killer death-gazes with people, though. That's OK, yeah? Heh-heh."     She's starting to get the heeby-jeebies. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Ten guage, wood stock, tube mag and pump action? One might think Alexis is in love with these shotguns, as she takes one of the Vox Legi shotguns and shoulders the weapon with a nod. She begins to load a shell through the breech, then six additional shells into the tube magazine. Keeping the shotgun in hand, she takes as many shells as she can carry on herself, loading up little shell holders all over her armor for a quick reload.     Her shotgun flips in her hands once it's loaded, and she grins a little while offers up a hand to Tyr. "Alexis Maaka, of the Flotilla." A quick handshake later, and she folds her helmet into place without even touching it, the helm giving off little reving noises and the sound of the suit sealing up entirely just in case a vacuum comes into play.     She's content to be close to the front, shotgun readied, she snorts at Yuuki. "Only if you piss 'im off, I figure." 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      The sceptical robot does raise one eyebrow a fraction of an inch at the mention of rituals and blessings being used in the care of weapons, but decides to bite her tongue for now- cultural and religious discussions can wait for after the mission, no doubt. As the party begins to walk down the hallway, Septette glows more brightly to provide illumination for those without night vision, and switches to infrared sensors herself.      A few brisk strides later, she's at the fore of the merry band. Her arm-mounted blades unfold with a quiet snap, covering a good few feet on either side of her: anything trying to run past would find itself clotheslined on a razor-sharp sickle. "So," she asks Tyr- perhaps a bit belatedly- "where exactly are we headed? This is quite a large ship, after all. Splitting up and searching aimlessly could both prove disastrous at worst, and a waste of time at best. I assume you have some idea where we ought to go." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah gives Yuuki a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it's just an expression!" She says almost certainly. She gives the provided weapons a curious look, and though she seems impressed, they're not for her.     Instead she unslings her shield from her back and grips it firmly in her left hand, while the right goes to touch her necklace, which disappears and is replaced by a large Nordic hammer that seems like it should be too heavy for the girl to handle, yet she holds it in one hand without a problem. She then lifts a few inches off the ground, probably just to show off a bit. and hovers alongside Septette. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Into the darkness they go, and Valentha answers this by softly chanting and summoning up a wisp of a light. A simple ball of light that gives off a lantern light.     Having Nightvision herself, she does not need it, but others may.     She asides to Yuuki, "Well...." The mage slips back to put a hand on her shoulder. "Relax. Wait, no. Don't relax. But take a deep breathe. This is a good group. We've got things handled."     Hopefully. Really hopefully.     Her senses, of course, are quite open. If there's anything SPECTACULARLY evil around, she MIGHT feel it coming. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa bows slightly s the big metal plate comes up and she nods to them smiling a bit. "Thank you, this should help." Kotone looks at the man and gets a feeling he's very much like her. She seddles in her solid slug pistol and her blaster those are not an issue. the XCOM laser rifle actually is a bit of an issue as it does perhaps a bit too much damage here. She frowns and looks at her grenades. Yup she's going to chdeck those. She will however take the shotgun which was offered, she seems to know how to handle such. "I can tell they do look pretty well maintained." Tyr might have noticed something about Kotone something's a bit off not in a bad way, those little imperfections most humans have she doesn't seem to have them, something with her eyes and her motions are /very/ efficent. She'll also switch over her pistol which she was able to find some workable ship ammo for. "Ready to go!" She readies the shotgun and gets ready to move out her small flying drones? One keeps with the party, the other is going to scout ahead. She keeps an eye on Yuuki and smiles a little about her asking Deathgaze's name. She's feeling a bit creeped out. She's however already making a map, the drones are doing a good job keeping out of the way, but that's because Kotone's riding shotgun on them right now. She does however keep with Alexis whom she's got a good deal of work experiance with. She's also kept an eye on Septette as well. <<Good to go here, man this is like something out of a movie...>> 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren goes through weapon after weapon, testing beam cannons, beam swords, a laser rifle, and a laser pistol on the sample of armor plating, blowing it to bits and then blowing the bits into smaller bits. "Hrrrrmm..." he growls to himself. Through his cyberjack, he turns off the beam cannons so he won't use them accidentally, then stuffs his laser pistol and laser sniper rifle into his bag, pulling out the RAISER rifle and dialing the power waaaaay down, and the penetration to zero and slinging it over his back. A normal pistol and his missile pistol stick to the armor are put in holsters on his hips for quick access, and at last he pulls out a shotgun of his own, a pump-action design from Earth-1960. He might need the shipboard shells if lead buckshot is a problem.     They're led below decks. "Wow! This place is pretty fancy. It looks like a church! A giant space church.     Once they reach the dimly-lit section, Staren's visor rotates into place, and he turns on a light on his helmet, as well as a flashlight attached under the shotgun's magazine, and shines light into the darkness ahead. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah gives Staren an odd look. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to take one of the guns they had ready!?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren blinks at Sarah. "This one has an eight-round magazine. That's two more shots." 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Alexis gets a four-fingered handshake. "Thank you for coming. We will speak later of this Flotilla, if you would. The Captain is interested in it." Tyr dons his white (and only slightly green) helmet on the way down. It's more ornate than the rest of the Fire Warrior combat armor; there's gold chasing and Imperial aquilas adorning it (particularly the Rogue Trader variant with the skull and wreath), which don't really do anything practical. It does make him look simultaneously more regal and more menacing, though. He does turn to Yuuki when addressed, though, the mono-eye locked on her. "Have you caused harm to me or my crew?" He sounds grim and dreadfully serious. "Have you endangered those I am sworn to protect? Are you in league with the Great Enemy, and an enemy of the Emperor?" There is a long pause. "Then no," he says, in a gentler tone of voice, "you will not." Commander Deathgaze allows the Elites specializing in close quarters to take up vanguard positions. He seems comfortable with a spot in the midst of the group, drawing the shorter-barreled of his two pistols. This one, like his armor, also bears the golden Imperial eagle. The power pack, or what's visible of it, is bright red. That probably means something. He eyes the globe of light, remarking, "I would recommend avoiding a demonstration of your sorcery in front of the rest of the crew. It would alarm them unnecessarily." He seems less worried about Septette's appearance than the minor amount of magic-use. Tyr keeps pace with the group, nodding at Septette before scanning the area ahead of them. Kotone's advance scout-drone can see that the corridor extends on and on. There's an open side door a long ways up, though; the rest are all sealed. "I sent a scout team into this section before you arrived. They were instructed to locate the tech-priest's route, mark it clearly, and meet us at the entry-point. In point of fact..." A trio of Tau warriors fade into sight next to the door Kotone's drone found. Their armor is black as pitch and made of smoother contours than the other combat suits, with what looks like small jetpacks affixed to the backs. They carry shorter-barreled versions of the typical Tau rifle. The lead of the three salutes in a very human manner, but greets Tyr over his suit's radio as, "Shas'O." It's echoed across the common frequency to the rest of the group. "The route has been marked. We detected motion multiple times but did not see the source, and did not seek to engage, as per your instructions." "You have done well," Tyr says. "Return to the upper deck." The lead Tau nods, and the three move past the team, disappearing behind them. Tyr looks over the Elites, and then gestures at the hatch. "After y-" A grate flush with the ceiling falls. Three figures swing out, shadowy shapes barely illuminated by the ball of light up at the top of the heavily-arched hallway. They drop down with a rodent-like screech, one towards Valentha, a second at Septette in the lead, and the last -- having dragged its way across the ceiling -- throws itself right at Yuuki's head. They aren't quite as big as the marine made them out to be, but whatever they are, they definitely have enormous claws and really pointy teeth! 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     The Imperial iconography is enough to confuse the hell out of Alexis, but she does not dare speak. That can wait for later, when they discuss the Flotilla and all that jazz. She isn't opposed to talking further about that stuff, however.     It's still weird seeing tau loyal to the Imperium, but whatever. Time to get to work.     She doesn't need light, instead she activates night-vision as the group goes into the depths and light becomes less and less common. Making sure to remain close to Septette, she does let the android stay up ahead while she levels her shotgun. She keeps the weapon against her shoulder as she approaches the door. And then all hell breaks loose.     Her shotgun levels up at one of the creatures, the one leaping at Yuuki, and fires off a round. "GET BACK!" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren holds the Renegade Rangemaster at the ready. When the grate falls, Staren swings the gun up, but can't draw a bead yet...     His initial reaction is to shoot the one trying to grab Septette, since the yggdroid won't be hurt by friendly fire... then he realizes that that's really needless. Septette doesn't need the help. Valentha is powerful and can conjure a psi-sword, or maybe a magic sword -- he vaguely recalls reading about a spell that does that but the name escapes him. Yuuki, he knows nothing about, so he errs on the side of caution: He turns and charges, holding his shotgun by the barrel in his left hand while drawing his plasma sword, trying to make a quick stab and slash with glowing purple-white energy at the... whatever-it-is! 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Scarcely has the grate burst open before Septette tenses and mutters an incantation, despite Tyr's apparent distaste for sorcery. Its effect is immediately apparent: her already wicked-looking curved blades glow red with heat, distorting the air around them as they stir up convection currents.      She's never fought on a spaceship before, and these creatures come from a world she has never set foot on. Still, everything else about this situation feels deeply familiar to the Yggdroid; almost comfortable, even. It's just her and a small band of hardy adventurers fighting against alien creatures bent on spilling the blood of innocent people. Save for the scenery and her allies' equipment, this could almost be a scene from the Abyssal War.      So it should come as no surprise that her old combat reflexes kick in even before her subjective time slows to a crawl from those ancient combat routines. She trusts her companions to take care of the other two beasts, and anticipates the nearest monster's trajectory to lash out at its vital areas with almost blinding speed. Rather than retreat in the face of its attack, she digs her talons into the floor, hoping to use the beast's own momentum to help cut it to pieces! 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah was ready to rush to Yuuki's aid as well, but there's already at least two people set on blasting the thing to bits already. Septette's probably the most dangerous monster in the whole place, and she's on their side! She knows nothing about Val's abilities though, so that's the creature she dashes through the air towards. Mjolnir already crackling with lighting as she swings it at the thing. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa looks to Tyr for a brief moment as he speaks to Alexis of the Flotilla. "Oh he is we talk about that or even set up a meeting if the Captain's curious about it." She notes but she's moving ahead now as she gets the feed from teh drone she wees everything is sealed one way or another. She looks to the scout who are alive to report. That's good she watches as they get told to move out, but then something drops in. Kotone's reflexs are quite refined in responding to things like this. She opens fire with the shotgun on the thing. She's not sure what the hellish looking thing is? But she's not going to wait about to be eaten, she is also dancing back and she's not hiding at all how agile she is, either. "Xenofauna?!" She's going to save footage of these things to see if they cna ID these things later but that's only a brief thought for her givne how fast she can process information. As this fight ocntiunes she tracks the movments of Staren, Sepetette and the others to avoid catching them with the shotgun blasts. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     SPACE DROPBEARS drop in like TENNO SKOOM, going for the Totally Normal Girl's head, her large anime eyes, and her insistence on STILL WEARING SUNGLASSES IN THE DARK.     This doesn't actually seem to affect the highschool-aged anime in any way, as she raises up her hand, the metal cylinder in it extending in an electric arc to grow, somehow, into a long metal pole, simply multiplying itself into a long staff that she jams into a soft part - even the mouth - of her pouncing attacker, and send flying over her head, holding her weapon at the ready.     Staff? It's more like... a Scythe. Somewhere between 'implement for reaping grain' and 'organometallic power weapon'. It's got a kind of batty-motif on the scythe's head, and she had been using the blunted 'staff' end for tossing the monster over her. She twirls it once to reset it to a more useful ready position. "Wow. If these guys' hearts weren't so loud, and their blood so... rich and tangy and smelly, I'd never have noticed them!" She announces, panting slightly from anxiety. It's scary, being jumped!     Did she say blood?     "I-I mean, wow, they're pretty smelly, ha-ha-ha, can't anyone else tell? Wow, these things just dropped from the vents, Commander Deathgaze you really shouldn't have monster-sized vents!"     Good segue, Yuuki. Nobody will notice. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     "That's why we're all the way in here, isn't it?" Valentha cracks in response. She does kep the ball out of sight when others arrive, but unfortunately keeping focused on that leaves her just a BIT vulnerable. She looks UP when the grate's blown in and -- "HYAAAAAH!"     Instantly she's whipped out a little handle from within her jacket and thumbed it on. Well, it has THREE thumb-buttons, and her thumb's on a red one. There's also yellow and blue!     Red is apparently FIRE, because a FLAME SCIMITAR erupts from the little device. She waves the thing around at comical-seeming hyperspeed. "GoawaygoawaygoawayGOAWAY!"     Well, there might be some method to that madness, because the comical flailing's at least not encroaching into anyone else's range. She's mostly waving it over her head at the dropping creature. Not that this does much to stop its fall! It gets a grip on her shoulders and the two go tumbling around.     At the first available opportunity though she'll SLAM it against a wall in all of this flailing.     That might not go so well for the well. Expect dents and bending. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' The first creature -- the one that made the fundamental error of engaging Septette in close-quarters combat -- gets turned into a pile of monster-steaks in short order. It sprays blood as it's cut to pieces and pumped full of shot, and the remainder of the carcass splatters across the floor, making a big ol' mess and leaving a bloody streak into the midst of the group. It doesn't even twitch after that. Yuuki deflects the second of the falling xenofauna by jabbing it somewhere that makes it make an alarmed kind of squeak-hiss noise. It tumbles and jerks, shredding ammunition from Maaka's shotgun ripping into its soft, fleshy body -- and not quite killing it. It scrabbles on the deck, getting up and starting to lunge, only to get staggered by another shotgun blast from Kotone and skewered by Staren's saber. It looks like it actually takes some /effort/ to kill these. Val's FLAME SCIMITAR, accompanied by COMEDIC FLAILING, manages to fill the corridor with the smell of burnt fur. It doesn't stop, the now-burning, wicked-looking claws descending for her face -- -- which promptly gets electrocuted and slammed into the wall by judicious application of Mjolnir. Val hits it once more for good measure, the two of them embedding it into the interior wall and leaving a big ol' bloody dent in the otherwise nice-looking corridor. This one /does/ twitch a bunch. Tyr, meanwhile, has his pistol trained on the vent. Two more of the things come out, skittering across the ceiling; he fires once, a sharp cracking sound joining the deafening shotgun blasts and an intense red beam hitting it in the midsection. It burns a hole through it, dropping it to the floor while the other keeps running. It's making sounds as it rushes /away/ from the groun. Rapid, terrified squeaking kinds of sounds. "It won't make it out the entrance," Tyr says. He looks down at the bodies. "They must have come aboard when we came back from the planet. Hm." He turns his mono-eyed helmet towards the door, absently exchanging the red power pack in his laspistol for another from his coat. "We should move forward. The path will be marked with glow-rods." It is. It's a bunch of narrow, twisting corridors, but it is. They may have to get friendly to go that way. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren steps back from the skewered rodent, pulling his sword out with a slight fluorish. When more monsters show up, he shifts his grip on the shotgun and lifts it one-handed, pulling the trigger: *click*     Oh, right. As Tyr speaks, Staren nods, deactivating and holstering the plasma sword, then pumping the shotgun and loading another shell to top it off.     Staren moves up not quite to the front line, but to the next rank behind them. "So... these monsters didn't attack the team that laid these glowsticks, but they come after /us/, with superior numbers and armament? Any idea what that might be?" 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Seemingly disoriented, Val wrenches herself away from the embedded creature and wrings her hands out after flicking the saber off. "Phew. Thanks! You got that one good!" She flashes Sarah a quick thumbs-up, then goes for her pistol. All of a sudden the goofy expressions she's been wielding drain away.     "Oh boy." 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Pump pump. The shell falls to the ground with smoke still pouring from the opening, and Maaka casually draws her Kama before the massive handgun begins to fire. THe ship should be lucky she's not using full power loads, 'cause 12mm slugs are a beast of a cartridge even at half-powder. The rounds blast at the small creature. SHe has no idea what it is, but it better be dead after this.     She does have the decency to warn everybody with a hearty, "GET CLEAR!" to anybody at the entrance, if only to avoid getting hit by a riccochet. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa reloads her shotguin once the battle is over. She looks to Tyr as he's got the vent handled she lowers her weapon now noddiong as she gets ready to move ahead. She orders both drones now to scout ahead and hopefully will keep them a bit better informed. "Strange but the last unit I think was a stealth group, could be they were. She's on edge she hears the comm chatter and press onwards.She doesn't mind if she's got friendly with the others here, she's not that uptight. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Heh heh. Heh... Vampire intelligences. Terrors from the warp. Ssssuuuure.     "Wow, good job everyone! Sure is a lot of firepower everyone's packing, I'm glad. Otherwise... Well, they wouldn't be dead and thus not threatening the people of this ship! And with a ship this big, well, that's pretty good." Yuuki notes, nodding firmly.     Then she has a thought. "Wait, if they got on the ship when you landed someplace, and are in here now, wouldn't that mean the way we come in /isn't/ the only way in here?" She wonders, shouldering her weird batty bio-metallic scythe.     She looks for the glow-rods, sunglasses still on, not seemingly impaired in any way. "Well, at least that forward team was thourough. Hey, Commander, why didn't you send them in to hunt down the beast instead of that team of marines and a priest-technician? Seems to me they did a super job."     Let's ignore the fact she almost died. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Alexis decides that there will be no runners. She plugs the fleeing creature with twelve millimeter rounds, and after a couple, it drops off the ceiling with a meaty 'thump.'It twitches in the dark behind them. That... seems to be all of them? Staren asks a pertinent question. Tyr lowers his laspistol. "The Stealthsuit team is, as the name suggests, equipped for stealth. We are not. However, given their disposition..." He looks at one of the bloody corpses. "...I would venture to guess they were fleeing something else." Kotone's drones beep and boop on forward. The path is narrow, twisting corridors, with a number of grates and vents and pipes festooning the walls to their right. Past them is a solid wall, and past /that/ is the evil presence that Val sensed... somewhere. It looks like the corridor is the long route, but will eventually let out in into a much more wide-open area. That's about where Kotone loses the drones. They lose signal and seemingly fall off the face of the ship, at least as far as she can tell. Yuuki brings up another excellent point about other ways in here. "There very well may be," Tyr agrees. He adjusts his comm and makes a call. "Hiird." Another voice comes over the local comm network. It's simultaneously rough and wet, like someone was gargling both mud and gravel and still managing to talk through it. There's some kind of odd interference along with it. "Commander. Yes. I am here." "Have there been any hull breaches detected since we left Omin Apsalus Prime?" Tyr asks. The voice makes a thoughtful sound. It's almost a hiss. "One. One of my subordinates, he was to repair the breach. The ship's Auspex does not detect a breach. My subordinate, he has not been seen in many cycles. I did not think to concern you." Tyr's expression is unreadable beneath his helmet, but he doesn't sound happy. "Thank you." With that, the staticky extra connection disappears. Tyr gestures towards the passage, waiting for the vanguard to proceed. Once they've begun, he looks back at the Perfectly Normal Girl. Why /didn't/ he have the cloaked guys take care of the problem? "I was instructed otherwise. Thus, it falls to all of you." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah looks around for something she can prod at the body of a dead critter with, finally deciding to use the edge of her shield to prop one up a bit. "Anyone know what these things are that we just killed?" She asks, looking firstly to Tyr, then to anyone else who might speak up in response. She decides to stick close to Valentha for now. It looks like her swordsmanship may be lacking due to her earlier antics. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Fleeing something else. Staren was just starting to think along those lines... "Something else... like /demons/, huh?" He's now carrying one of the shotguns Deathgaze's crew offered. Having the shotgun he gave Eliot Ness was just an ANIMATION ERROR. "Are regular shotgun shells really going to be enough for demons? I mean, I know it works in videogames, but..." The missile launchers on his armor's shoulders raise into forward-firing position.     After the report over the radio, Staren looks at the Commander. "There was a breach, but your ship's Auspex doesn't detect it? What does that mean?" 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Septette's blades flare momentarily, cooking off the blood staining them, then cool abruptly before the heat they radiated could build up and singe the more delicate members of the party. "They're nothing to be too concerned about, I believe. Non-elemental creatures, apparently mundane. I do have to wonder what they've been eating for the last few weeks," she adds with a glance towards Tyr. "They're apparently predators. The fact that they hadn't starved thus far means we'll likely enounter other fauna that have infested the ship, no?" Stepping on the nearest one's remains, she carefully excises a small swatch of tissue with her leg-talons and stashes it in her pouch.      "I doubt they're the worst we'll find down here, unfortunately," the little robot remarks before turning around and slowly walking down the hallway again. "Shall we proceed, or does anyone have wounds that need tending?" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     "Don't know, looks alien whatever it is." Alexis says, before shrugging at Staren. "Depends whether or not these are blessed or something, I guess." She half-jokes, before she watches Septette extract some samples curiously. "I'm fine, we'd be best off getting to this sooner than later." The android has a point, these are nothing compared to whatever is ahead of them, and Alexis knows it. 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     With there being EVIL afoot, Valentha's on high alert. Supernatural evil is a whole different beast from hungry animals. Whoever has some exposed flesh to work with (or at least ordinary clothes, instead of thick power armor) she'll touch and cast a Armor of Ithan (invisible force field) for their benefit. Just in case things get really hairy!     And apparently with no concern whatsoever for how much energy all that casting's costing...     "Well. I sense ONE thing. That way." She points towards the solid wall. "But just because I only sense one thing, it doesn't mean there's not more of SOMETHING dangerous. Hungry animals aren't exactly DEMONS, you know." But she's checking over her gear while the others chat up and take stock of things.     But her alert hearing picks up some rather troubling information from Tyr's tone of voice and that message.     "Probably those 'things that got loose' we heard about a while ago. They've got the claws for it!" She asides to Sarah... then pfffts at Staren. "It'll probably be fine. From what I know of the gear used by the races inhabiting this part of space, there's not much in the idea of 'blessed weapons' or 'vampire stakes.' Bullets and bombs seem adequate enough!"     She flicks on her TW blade again, this time producing a lightning rapier, which she stabs at the air a few times. "Good, still working..." 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa Doesn't like it when she closes contact with hte drones, but that's why she brought them. "I think I found something my Dones just fell right off the ship. I think they been taken out." She notes and brings up a data pad bringing up tha map of the route the drones took to show Deathgaze so he can get an idea of it. "I have no idea, and I'm just happy it didn't turn out wors, SArah." She looks to Septette for a moment bobbing her head. "Sounds like it Sepette but if they want help cleaning out the ducts I think we can come to an arrangment of some sort right?" She makes sure to reload her weapons and falls in again. She'll also show the map to the others after deathgaze is done with it. Those on the tact net would just get sent a copty, such s Alexis and likely Staren. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki seems to nod thoughtfully. The smells of the ship were vast and unknowing and assaulting her sensitive schnoz. That, and the fact she was probably covered in part by disgusting drop bearhorror ichor.     She tries to wipe it off, looking at the glowing mono-eye of Commander Deathgaze. And the enlightening answers to his questions, and the rather eager 'did I get it did I get it' look behind her sunglasses is practically sparkling.     "So... Wait, that's bad, a hullbreach. But good, because it's sealed! But... bad, because you can't find the engineer. And... Demons? Like, real demons, or figurative demons, becuase there's a lot of..."     She taps her fingers together meaningfully. "Cross-over. I mean, some people just call magic demon-stuff, you know? Heh-heh..."     Yuuki nods, a sympathetic look in her eye. "I understand, Commander! You didn't want to risk your men, when you could save their lives by going in yourself, valiantly." She's beaming up at him. "You're very noble."     She looks at Valencia, letting her weapon shrink back to a baton and clipping it to her belt. "Oh, thank you, but I'll be fine! I have all of you to protect me! With guns!" 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' "Native fauna of the planet we visited. You would need to ask the magos biologis for specific details." Tyr sort of waves off the question about what they are exactly. The answer seems to be 'nothing special,' at least, compared to /some/ things he's run into. "Yes. There is likely a prey species aboard as well. It would not be the first time it has happened. The hrud and off-duty marines typically keep rodent population numbers down." "It means," he tells Staren, "that the ship's sensors are either malfunctioning, or the breach was sealed successfully." He inclines his head in Yuuki's direction, apparently willing to accept her version of events rather than try to explain how the chain of command here works. "They are quite real. And, if it /is/ a daemon... well. I will be glad you brought heavier weaponry, and inform the Captain of the necessity following its destruction." Which is to say, collateral damage won't be taken out of your pay... probably. Septette's slow advance finds the beginnings of the claustrophobic passages. They're lit by red glow-sticks, or the local equivalent, and seem to be monster-free all the way to an entrance to a much larger chamber. The bigger chamber opens up to the left once one is out of the tight, twisting passages, but it's impossible to actually see far into it without moving in. The light level in the chamber is higher. It's red, like the passages. There's a smell of burnt flesh and spilled industrial lubricants, detectable by those with sensitive noses. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren nods to Deathgaze, and follows the frontliners into the tight passages. A moment after, he puts his gun away and turns down his headlight, holding the hilt to his plasma saber ready. No fight starts there, though...     Once he's out into the larger room, he clips the hilt to his armor and readies his shotgun again, shining the light he affixed underneath it, and the light on his helmet, into the chamber... 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      She may not have a human-like sense of smell, but Ms. Arcubielle's chemoreceptors do pick up burnt organic tissue and traces of synthetic lubricants in the air. "This seems suitably ominous," she observes dryly while peering into what little of the larger room is visible. "Tell me if any of you start hearing boss-fight music, hmm?" Then she steps out into the open with loud and clanging steps, taking care to remain between the others and the center of the room.      If no hostiles are clearly present, she'd call forth wisps of fire to illuminate the dark corners of the room... but if there's any obvious threat, she'd enchant her blades again to prepare for it instead. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     "Basically giant space rats then." Sarah nods to herself, "Totally normal and not servants of a mother creature or anything worrisome?" She asks as she follows Septette through the corridors. "For the record, unlike some people here I do actually need to breathe, and I seem to be doing an okay job of it so far. So if there's a hull breach we're at least on the other side of a bulkhead from it at the moment."     She waves Mjolnir in the air for a moment, "This thing is considered a religious artifact in some worlds, Though if that means anything to the Demons in this one, I have no idea." She gives Septette an odd look, "That was a joke right?" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Alexis activates night-vision as the area gets darker. The idea of fighting daemons leaves her worried, but shotguns are shotguns. She's killed worse before, and she shoulders her shotgun close as she begins to follow Septette as well. She's thankful for having a big enough gun at least, as she occassionally trails it down corridors along the way.     Her pace is steady and alert, and she pays attention to motion scanners as she goes, keeping her ears perked for anything sneaking up on the group from some vent shaft or whatever. 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa also has motion trackers she's borrowed from the XCOM armory she's going to need to ask if she can get the specs for those to work up plans for her fabber with Rory on that. She look to Yuuki with a concerned look on her face. "Every myth is true somewhere in the multiverse espically the bad ones." She seems sadded by this but she's not seeming to doubt Tyr's words on this at all. She makes note there may be more local fauna and she brings up a few things on the tact net to STaren and her. She's made sure to make a way point where her drones vanished. She also switches over to lower light vision as she gets on the moves. She smirks at Septette and humms a few bars of an famous boss fight theme from a long running game line, on her world. "Sure thing Septette. I'm more worried about things coming out of the damn walls." 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     Into the red-tinted chamber! Valentha's nose twitches a bit, and her free hand immediately claps over it. "Ewwwwwwwww... anyone else smell that? Please tell me someone smells that...?" A glance around reveals no obvious signs anyone DOES though.     With a sigh, the Techno-Wizard hunts around for whatever poor soul had a bad encounter with fire. And other things. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki cringes slightly, but doesn't say anything. She's strong! She's a hero! She won't be... Disgusted...     By the disgusting smells. Of industrial stuff! Ooh, burnt flesh! That's...     Actually she gets a little 'hungry' from that. Reaching into a pocket, she pulls out some sort of fruit-nut bar with chocolate chips with it and starts peeling away the wrapper, chewing softly.     Sniff sniff. "So, I noticed you said day-mon, not dee-mon, Commander. Is there some difference? Or is it just an accent thing...?" She wonders, her own accent somewhere between Archaic European and Modern Japanese.     Valentha asks if anyone else does. Yuuki raises her hand - clutched around the snack bar - like a schoolgirl called on suddenly in class. "Ooh, I do! I mean... The machinery-smells and stuff, right?" She asks hopefully.     Wandering along at her own pace, she doesn't seem to mind how dark it is, even behind her sunglasses. And cap. Both of which she's still wearing. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Tyr examines the map offered by Kotone. "The passage should lead to the chamber adjacent to the hull breach. Perhaps it remains open to space, and that is where your drones went," he theorizes. The chamber itself is massive. It's the size of a cathedral's interior, with a vaulted roof and enormous pillars of what look like wrought iron. The reddish light seems to come from ensconced torches scattered around the room. They're actually burning, rather than merely recepticles of what is probably electric light elsewhere on the ship. There's a sort of smokey haze drifting around the upper end of the room, with the ceiling maybe thirty feet up and a whole second-level catwalk present along the left and right sides of the chamber. The added light from the party reveals what used to be the purpose of this room: storage. What looks like industrial vehicles and old and enormous parts of machines lay about the room. A good portion of them have been severely damaged by something or other, with only the few smaller ('smaller' being 'waist-high cover' rather than 'bigger than a person') objects -- like stacks of giant cogs and gears, for instance -- remaining seemingly useful. Tyr brings up the rear of the group, stepping into the chamber. He looks left, looks right, and then looks up -- and throws himself forward into a roll, away from the passageway back. An enormous object slams down in front of it where he was just standing, embedding itself in the deck. It is, in fact, one of the massive, many-toothed gears scattered around the room. There's a mechanical kind of hiss, and a shape snakes its way around the upper half of the room. Tendrils, clearly metallic, slide out of the smoke and spiral down the metal pillars. A bulky shape made of jagged, burned metal plates surrounding a humanoid figure descends, suspended from a dozen or more of the metallic tentacles, each one disappearing up into the haze. Its body is a mess of metal fused with flesh, most of the cybernetic components crudely affixed around what look like more professional (if still bulky) implants in its blood-caked head and chest. There's a click and the whirr and the glow of optical implants. Flickering red lights focus on the group. It has too many eyes. The shape of other things, man-sized and -shaped, are dimly visible in the smoke on the catwalks above. "Ah," it sighs, with an electronic warble to its voice, "fresh meat." Mechadendrites -- the numerous metallic tentacles -- flicker with reflected red light as they move. Half a dozen more gears, some sharpened and others not needing to be, are cast forward and down with a vast ripple of motion. They sail towards the group in silence -- a fact that changes the moment they hit the deck or a person, filling the room with thunderous sounds of metal crashing down all around from the instant of impact to the sudden and shocking /bouncing/ they do towards the far wall the group is arrayed in front of. Get moving! WELL, SEPTETTE CALLED THE BGM CHANGE: https://youtu.be/D9s18rUaubc 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Seems the Imperium's ships are just as huge on the inside as they are on the outside, as Alexis notes the ridiculous interior of this storage room,along. Not unmerited, mind, considering the vehicles and waist high cogs and such. It brings to mind a chathedral of mechanics, and given the cogboys that might not be off the mark at all.     Alexis still snorts in derision imagining their response to her. They'd probably hate her, clinging to her human form in favor of adopting a truly robotic appearance like them given her insides.     Though that's interrupted by /this/ fresh hell of a horror show of a being.     Behind her visor, ALexis looks disgusted at this cyborg, if it can even be called that if anything.     Without wasting time, Alexis begins to let off a few blasts of ten gauge shipboard shells, aiming to cover Septette's approach as she aims for the fleshy center of this creature. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah quickly brings her shield up, hoping to protect the people she sees as squishy, mainly Valentha and Yuuki, from the incoming gears. Her brain has a moment to process the fact that that thing actually spoke as gears hit the Star Shield and fall to the ground.     "Oh Yeah! I can't wait to see what you taste like!" She quips back at the thing. Okay, she has no intention of eating it really, she's just trying to seem intimidating.     She starts spinning Mjolnir up until it's crackling with lightning then hurls it at the cybernetic monstrosity, aiming for it's head. 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      Her vanadium-carbide claws dig into the metal floor as Septette tenses up almost instantaneously, then tears across the floor with a backscatter of debris accompanying each lunging step. Those wicked blades of hers are already deployed, and she uses them to cut through a pair of rolling cogs before they've even finished heating up. The veteran warrior tacks back and forth once she's within reach of the tendrils, leaping from side to side in an erratic pattern and slashing at any mechadendrites that come close.      It's not until she's within ten meters or so that Septette leaps towards the monstrosity, unfolding a matching pair of blades from her lower legs. With an incantation and a sudden flare of plasma, the robot sharply changes course halfway through her trajectory, aiming to tear into the tendrils suspending her opponent from the ceiling rather than attacking its main body! "HELLFIRE!" 

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:''' Kotone Yamakawa is hoping that as she enters the massive chamber, she looks about, her eyes tarting left and right as she tries to take in what's in here. She the machines and wonders about the remains of the various crafts in here. She wonders about it but she seems to be quite concerned about it. This place almost looked in. She starea for a moment at the thing. She sees the tentacles she sees the flesh, the cyberware she has an idea what happpened to the missing people. She watches the machine and now she's starting to move and use a good deal of inhuman agility. She's already got her blaster out, it's been set to normal kill mode and she's letting rip a hail of bolts at the thing trying to target it's flesh even as she dodges about. She brings up the grenades she'd carrying over the comm ti Tyr, but she's not going to sit still. She gets a plan from Tyr and is going to carry it out. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     More giant church rooms! Staren stops to narrow his eyes at one of the torches. "...How do these stay lit...?"     And then, the boss door closes! Staren holds his arm out to blast it open, but he disabled his beam cannons earlier... He raises the shotgun and fires a couple of times at the tentacles, then realizes he should re-enable his weapons and sets to work on that -- only to have to dive to the ground to dodge a giant flying gear!     It has now emerged that the monster is an armored cyborg tentacle snake demon thing! And it can talk, but it won't be talking to them -- it wants to eat them! Very well, Staren has the missiles ready, so... as soon as he gets up even to his knees and faces the creature, a half-dozen missiles launch from his shoulder racks, aiming to penetrate that armor plating and explode within! 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     It might be dim here to some, but Valentha can see clear as daylight out to a few hundred feet. She reacts to the distant motion by bringing up her 'blade' and flicking it on again. An ice CLAYMORE springs from it, which her scrawny arms apparently can support as if it weighed nothing more than a feather. She doesn't have much SKILL with that thing, but Valentha wields it with tremendous strength and speed. A whirlwind of strikes - considering the blade's likely astronomical weight - beats back several tendrils with enormous clangs, casting shards of ice in every direction!     And that's just with ONE hand. Valentha's other hand goes for her revolver. While backing up and fending off some of the tendrils, she brings up the weapon and takes aim...     But thus her defense falters and some of the tentacles slam into her HARD. She goes flying back towards a bulkhead and hits it HARD. Hard enough to force a grunt from her but NOT hard enough to knock her for a loop. The weapon comes up again and she starts firing. The weapon's SILENT, but sends ripples of SOMETHING flying through the air. Ripples that will hit like hammer blows, no doubt...     "And just who or what are YOU?!" 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki is agile! She was on the track team in school, and was the prefect, too, which basically meant a lot of jumping around at nighttime chasing schoolgirls who are trying to get a peep of prettyboys and...     And Staren raises the questions that Yuuki feels, deep inside. How the heck are those torches /working/? They're obviously burning, and they smell like they're, you know, burning something rather than magic or an illusion or...     Her thoughts are filled with useless wonderings as she acrobatically leaps away from the first set of razor-cogs, drawing forth her Artemis Rod (the scythe-baton), setting in her stance and...     Coughing. More like choking, really, she looks down, as her nice white shirt is stained crimson. Well, no, she can't see that. What she CAN see is the blade neatly replacing where things like spines and organs should be. Then, the mechadendrites neatly stave in her head and she falls, in two pieces, in a pool of rather sweet-smelling blood, a big blade-cog seperating her halves neatly.     It's rather messy. She seems so... surprised that she got 'killed' like that. But isn't everyone? 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Alexis' shotgun barks, and the creature immediately reacts. The plating around what looks like the human body at the core of it rotates, swinging in front of the fleshy parts and intercepting most of the shipboard shot before it can connect. The main body begins to pull itself back into the cloud of smoke, but the mechadendrites affixed to it twitch and twist, moving like a puppeteer's strings -- -- and two of the humanoid shapes in the smoke are abruptly illuminated by muzzle-flashes, as the 'Ka-chak-BOOM' of the 10 gauges is mimicked by the men on the catwalks. They look like the marines that escorted you in, but lack the face-concealing helmets. Their fire is aimed at Alexis and Staren, except they don't fire the shipboard rounds. Instead, their shells are loaded with some kind of acidic payload, bursting into an oddly sticky, corrosive mess accompanied by a plume of poison gas. The smell from that is on the far opposite side of 'pleasant.' Staren finds that his shotgun isn't doing jack or shit to the metallic tentacles. They weave their way around the room, sliding along walls and attacking from odd angles, bludgeoning and crushing. Two slam down from the ceiling towards him as he gets to a kneeling position and fires his missiles, a whirring of cutting blades alerting him to what /they/ seem to be armed with! The missiles fly forward, up -- and detonate prematurely, striking white shapes cast in front of them. Fragments of hot shrapnel are shot across the room, and another four disc-shaped drones bearing diagonally-pointed vertical fins sail out of the corners of the room. They're burned and their armor marred, some kind of extra equipment fused to them. Lights begin to glow on the front, points of bright red building... Mjolnir sails, and two of them jerk drunkenly into its path. Unfortunately, that isn't quite enough to stop /that/ hammer, smashing through both the hijacked Tau drones and barely losing momentum. The monstrosity smoothly repositions but in a hurry, Mjolnir's glancing blow spinning it on its tentacle-mount and tearing metal off its cocoon-like shell. Val's force cannon starts pounding indents into the same shell before it can register that something's hitting it, and the last two drones are used as shields again, folded in half an sent careening across the room. Septette, who has been covered by this hail of incoming fire, comes in free and clear. She hits the mechadendrites holding it up, hard, and cleaves through the armored tendrils with a flash of plasma and a spray of sparks. The monster lists to the left and begins to drop, lashing out with its other tentacles to grab hold of the pillars and keep itself from falling into the midst of the heroes. It barely manages it, instead swinging itself towards the back of the room, filling the space between the group and it with bright red cutting lasers that scythe this way and that across the intervening space. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Tyr, meanwhile, is speaking rapidly into his commbead and ducked behind the cover of one of the rapidly-diced industrial components. For a moment, it looks like he's just engrossed in a particularly important phone call. Then, the ceiling splits. A great rent in the deck above forms, the scream of tortured metal being hacked away and peeled back ringing in the ears of the combatants. A line drops, and a man slides own it, dropping onto the catwalk behind the creature as it attempts to flee. It turns, swinging a laser-equipped mechadendrite towards him. There's a flash of red -- -- and a brighter flare of golden light that beats it back. A halo of light surrounds a white-robed figure, wearing a massive aquila amulet and brandishing an enormous, thrumming chainsword in both hans. His face is lined, and his grey hair is thin while his beard if thick. "THERE IS NO ESCAPE FOR YOU, CREATURE OF CHAOS!!" Confessor-Militant Tertius Kor speaks with a voice that can and does fill the room. "THE LIGHT OF /THE EMPEROR/ IS WITH US, AND AGAINST IT YOU /CANNOT STAND/!" He thrusts his chainsword into the air, depressing the activator. A spray of pure, golden light flies off the spinning edge, brightening the far side of the chamber and seemingly dispersing the thick smoke. The daemon-thing seems to recoil at the sight. "ALL GLORY TO THE EMPEROR AND HIS SERVANTS!" he bellows. "DELIVER DEATH UNTO THIS FOUL CREATURE -- IN /HIS/ NAME!" The Confessor-Militant has neatly blocked off the monster's exit. He has also revealed the five mechadendrite-puppeted marines surrounding him. Three pump acid-slash-gas rounds into Septette, one after another after another, while the other two start to turn to fire on Kor. All the while the seemingly-endless mechadendrites swipe through the air, slashing with cutting tools and smashing with grasping claws, making it perilous to close in any further. Who has the courage to try to get close enough to help make the kill? 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     With the assault doing very little against the evil mecha-horror, Valentha grits her teeth. The sight of Yuuki being instantly mangled brings SHOCK to her face in practically the same instant! Normally she'd be right over there, and Valentha changes her footing as if preparing to DASH THERE IMMEDIATELY, but then...     Then MORE gunfire begins, from the catwalks above.     "There's the missing team..." She mumbles unhappily. Valentha's eyes narrow fiercely, focusing on the catwalk. Within a few seconds her whole body flickers, blue... and *BLIP!*     She's suddenly UP there on the catwalk, right BEHIND one of the puppeted marines. "Do you know what time it is?"     She waits ONLy long enough for the words to hopefully be heard, before swinging the ICE CLAYMORE horizontally with ALL of her strength! "IT'S CLOBBERING TIME, CLUNKERS!" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Alexis yelps as she feels acid rounds catch her in the chest. Her armor's strong enough to keep intact, but it still burns and sizzles before letting off a squealing sound that's horrific to the ears. Grunting, Alexis focuses her aim to the marines before firing away with her shotgun until it runs dry.     The shotgun slings over her back, and Alexis leaps over a waist-high cog-thingy and takes cover, changing to her coilgun. She fires a burst blindly at the daemon, until Alexis shifts into aimed shots.     Her train of thought is derailed for a moment when the Confessor-militant shows up, but she's oddly happy to see the priest here...even if he's a zealot. Still, at least he's focused on the daemon and not the team.     Her coilgun is then swapped out in favor of a few smoke grenades, and then Maaka draws her PDW, deactivating the safety catch as she approaches in a very heavy sprint. Her free arm lashes out with the grappling hook, intending to grab the daemon by the neck with it. Her plan's to hold it in place for someone to finish it off, while she blazes away with six milimeter rounds. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Aw, come on!" Staren shouts as the armor-piercing missiles explode early, defeating the whole point. It has /forcefields/?! Dammit! ...Wait, no. It's using drones?     Yuuki's down. There's no time. Her head's intact, maybe she can be saved? But they have to get away from this thing first...     Oh hey, the cavalry's here! Tyr has a paladin on-call. Nice! Staren smiles. "...Wait, how did he get here so fast?" Staren shakes his head slightly. No time to worry about that now. Staren holds the shotgun by the barrel in his left hand as he stands and backs away from the swarm of mechadendrites.     He reaches into his bag and pulls out an oversized revolver with a triple-M monogram engraved on the side.     Staren doesn't /need/ to get close. He holds out the hand with the shotgun, and micromissiles launch from his left forearm towards the puppets. And then his right hand raises and he fires the Annihilator at the daemon. A weapon created to fight the terrible monsters that go bump in the night and prey on humanity. Hopefully it will work here and help the paladin! 

:'''{{#var:632|Septette Arcubielle (632)}} has posed:'''      As she breaks her momentum on the far wall and lands with surprising grace on the catwalk, she's struck by several of the acidic rounds, but Septette scarcely registers the poison: if anyone in the group has to soak fire from the puppet-marines, it might as well be her. With her vastly slowed subjective time, the robot girl can clearly see each projectile coming, but can't move out of the marines' line of fire nearly fast enough to avoid them.      Those same armor plates that weigh her down can be turned to her advantage, however, and Arcubielle moves with utmost economy and precision to take as many of the hits as possible on her flesh-tone exoskeleton. The sticky acid sizzles and burns where it hits her internal components, but wherever it strikes those 'bones', it merely slides off without corroding them.      Seeing an opening when Val teleports in, Septette dashes forward and lunges at the nearest marine with her bladelike claws, aiming to hit the mechadendrites rather than striking at conventional weak points. Once her claws dig in, she channels a veritable lightning-strike through its body and into the other dendrites, trying to wreak as much havoc on the other tendrils as possible! "Hah! Nice one, Summers. Save one of the guns for me!" 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     "Someone aim for that part I exposed!" Sarah wheezes as she calls Mjolnir back to her hand, attempting to steer it so that it whacks one of the puppeted Marines on the way back. She pushes away the part of her mind that's in shock from seeing Yuuki cut in half. That needs to be delt with after the Battle, not during it.     Once her hammer is returned to her, she begins the arduous process of making her way toward the once-human thing at the center of the mass, slowly swatting tendrils out of the way with her hammer and outright severing a few with her shield. Several of them start to wrap around her arms and legs and halt her advance, leaving her stuggling in the tangle of tentacles and doing her best to fend them off with her shield. 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Sorry, Staren, Yuuki's head CLEARLY got staved in. By that mechadendrite! It was totally gross and horrible and since you saw it, it's pretty fresh in your memory, probab-     Oh wait, no, it's right over there, attached to her head, good as new. You could have /sworn/ she got staved in, however!     Also, she was totally bisected by that giant cog, and there's blood EVERYWHERE around her in a pool, but...     Yeah, no, Yuuki is still totally dead. Just less horribly dead than noted before! Impossibly.     Instead of the surprised look on her face, there's one of strain and a tightness in her eyes. It's a little hard to see behind her sunglasses, and with her closed eyes. But, you know, maybe it was because her skull got smashed?     Wait, did it?     OH WELL DON'T WORRY, DAEMONS AND THE EMPRAH REQUIRE YOUR ATTENTION. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Valentha realizes one swing in that the puppet marines are still only human, and she is Definitely Also A Normal Human, Just Like Yuuki Only Not, Wink Wink. The blade cleaves the first in half, and damages the mechadendrite affixed to the second, though the ice blade gets chipped in the process. The damaged one writhes, freezing up -- and Mjolnir hits it in the back on the return, tearing through the mounting and its shoulder in one pass. It flips over the railing, plummeting off the side and dropping meatily to the floor some ways below. Mjolnir comes back, and Rogers seems to be in trouble, the mass of mechadendrites apparently trying to get enough of a hold to rip her to pieces. Deathgaze steps out of cover to her left, drawing a squarish, long-barreled pistol and drawing a bead on the things. He fires, pulses of electric blue plasma ripping into the mechanical tentacles and burning holes right through them. They're weakened enough that she should be able to get clear. The remaining puppets don't back down, even under missile-fire. Staren's micro-missiles burn away chunks of flesh and flak armor, leaving bloody messes where one stood and fatally injuring a second. The second doesn't stop firing, its accuracy merely getting worse with one arm burned away and the other covered in gore. It runs out of ammunition and, unable to fire, joins the other in physically assaulting Kor -- -- who brings his two-handed eviscerator down and cleaves straight through the injured one, cutting it neck to groin. The other's shotgun barks, and it throws up more golden light between Kor and the puppet. The priest is unharmed. He starts to advance on the other, but Maaka's gunfire and Septette's electrified claws take care of the problem. The shipboard rounds do a number on the much less-heavily armored puppet, and the electricity fries whatever is keeping it going. It hits the ground. Staren's Annihilator hammers into the back of the daemon, blasting clear the already-damaged armor from Sarah's previous strike. The second shot hits a mechadendrite mount on its back, taking a chunk of metal and flesh off. The swarm of tentacles assailing Sarah go momentarily wild and suddenly limp, cut off from the source. The daemon-thing turns, its eyes focused on Staren. Three of the remaining mechadendrites veer off from their shielding pattern, coming at him. Maaka's grappling hook gets the broken armor and pulls it lower. The cyborg-daemon screeches electronically, a noise that is suddenly joined by a rhythmic 'beep-beep-beep' as something grey and green sails gracefully through the air... BOOOOOM The alien grenade explodes, vaporizing flesh and shattering metal. The cyborg-daemon howls as it loses more of its control, and it slides towards the ground, dangling perilously from the metal supports. It tries to retract itself... but the lightning of Mjolnir and the electrical shock administered by Septette have ruined what it had left to use. It's a sitting duck. And then a robed old man leaps off the catwalk. His eviscerator is held over his head, throwing off what looks like holy fire as he dives. His voice is clear, ringing like a church bell in the cavernous space. "MY FAITH," comes the Confessor-Militant, "IS PURE!" The chainsword cleaves through the last functional mechadendrite and parts soft flesh. The daemon screams, and screams, and screams -- and then falls, hitting the deck with a tremendous crash and a sizzling of dying electronics. The tendril spasm, and cease moving. The room goes silent for a span of seconds. Then, it is filled with the quiet hum of the chainsword as the Confessor-Militant extracts it from the possessed man's body and holds it high. "THE CREATURE," he proclaims, "HAS BEEN /VANQUISHED!/" 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Alexis is close enough to the blast that she's knocked off balance, and she yanks off her grappling hook while she picks herself up just in time to see the priest /cleave/ through daemonic flesh and cybernetics. Her eyes widen for a moment, then she lowers both her arms as she chuckles awkwardly for a moment.     "Oh, you crazy bastard. If you hadn't shown up, we'd be cooked for good." She laughs, approaching the Confessor and clapping him on the shoulder.     This might be a bad idea, but fuck it, they've won. Let Maaka have this. "So, Padre, was he one of the crew before?" She wonders, trying to figure out how a goddamn cyber-daemon (Not the kind with goat legs and the cannon arm) got aboard this vessel in the first place. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah continues her struggles against the dendrites that seem intent on ripping her apart, and then suddenly the chaos of the fight is focused into some kind of explosion, and everything that was wrapped around her just goes limp. It still takes a few punches, kicks, and grunts to get free, But it's a lot easier when the cybertentacles aren't trying to kill you anymore.     "What just happened!?" Sarah asks the room in confusion. "I feel like we got used as bait." She adds in an annoyed tone." She kicks away the last of the dead cyborg bits, lifts into the air and flies back to the group, where she starts trying to clean the gunk off herself. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Only /after/ blasting the puppets does Staren wonder if maybe he's preventing them from being saved in the future... oops? Well, he's not the only one not holding back...     When his shot severs a mechadendrite, he gasps. If he can get in there and break the tendrils /there/, he'll be able to disable swathes of mechadendrite at a time!     ...But first, he has to deal with the tendrils coming for him. He drops the shotgun, slips the Annihilator into his bag, and unclips his plasma saber, raising his left arm in front of his face protectively -- trying to provide a target. He's confident the mechadendrites can't get through his armor /that/ quickly, so he plans for them to try to grab him and then be unable to evade his cuts! He just has to keep it up until he thinks of a better plan...     ...Or THE CREATURE IS VANQUISHED! That works too!     Staren looks around warily for a moment, but when it's clear all is still... he rushes over to Yuuki, looking over her for any sign of damage. "What happened? Are you alright?" 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Her clothes covered in blood - though there's no pool under her - Yuuki sits up, holding her head and groaning. She takes a moment to heave the cog out of her gut, frowning at her belly, and the tatters of her shirt around her middriff. "Uuuugh, Zero's going to /kill/ me." She mutters, potentially with some mild irony seeing as WHAT JUST HAPPENED.     "W-where is that... Oh!" She squints at the GLORIOUS SCION OF THE GOD-EMPEROR, CONFESSOR-MILITANT KOR, and smiles. "Good work! To everyone! Sorry, I got knocked out there."     She was totally dead.     "That /really/ hurt."     Hurt, she looks at Sarah. "W-what makes you say that? Ugh, ow, that really hurt... I mean, we got the bad guys! Saved the ship! I took a pretty bad hit there, but..." She points at her bloody clothes. "Well, beyond my clothes, which are a total wash. I brought spares, though!"     Staren gets a smile. "Um... I got hit in the head and jammed with the spinny-disc, and then I woke up and it was dead! Yup. To-tally normal." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren stares at her, standing as she pulls herself up. "...That is not normal, for humans anyway. But I'm glad you're alright." 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     DOwn goes the soldiers! Down goes the creature, and goes up... well, Valentha would hope to hear some cheering, but instead there's just a lot of fussing and the like. She shuts down the Arc Blade, the ice sword simply 'melting' back into magic and dispersing to leave only the hilt which she tucks away along with the revolver. A short prayer is afforded the fallen soldiers under her breath, then she hurries over towards Yuuki!     "There's a chance I can save h--" The Techno-Wizard announces in a panic, only to... skid to a halt.     Yuuki's getting up.     This leaves her standing there, gaping. Eyes going wiiiiiiiiiide. She even rubs at them as if to clear whatever gunk might've clouded her vision through the fight.     In just a few moments she's LEEEAAAANING in... and gently poking Yuuki on the shoulder. Poke poke.     Yup. Solid, living flesh.     "......Tooooooootally normal." Yeah she's just DRIPPING with sarcasm right now. But she heaves a sigh. "You gave me a scare there." 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     AND THEN YUUKI WAS ALIVE     Alexis kind of double-takes for a moment, hoping to /god/ that the Confessor doesn't at all notice this BLATANT AFFRONT TO TEH EMPRAH and his MIGHTY SHOULDERPADS OF DOOM, and gets the wrong idea.     "Coulda helped to mention that beforehand, kid." she mutters, before shaking her head in annoyance as she reloads and holsters her gear, her helmet opening up to reveal messy red hair and tired eyes. Just another day at work, Alexis supposes, wiping sweat from her brow.     "Weeeee should probably get out of here and report to the bridge, unless we want a search party coming for /us/ soon." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah peers at Yuuki suspiciously, though there's a look of relief on her face "I'm part Alien, part Mutant, and part Super-soldier, and if I took a giant gear to the everything, I wouldn't be getting back up again without a major miracle." No one gave her the list of things one shouldn't talk about in the Imperium. In the Union she's pretty average. "So tell us how you're just a normal girl again?" She smirks a bit. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren blinks at Sarah. "Woah, cool down, as long as she's not endangering the mission is it really our business?"     And then he remembers something else that needs to be said.     He turns to the Confessor and shouts, "GREAT JOB!" smiling and giving him a thumbs-up. 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' Tyr lowers his pulse pistol and looks out into what was, moments ago, a kill zone. The Confessor-Militant releases the activation switch on his chainsword and lays the flat back across his shoulder, striding towards the group. He claps Alexis on the shoulder in return with his free hand. "Take heart! One day, your faith may be as pure as my own -- and on that day, you will know no fear!" He's always like this. "That /creature/, though --" Deathgaze interrupts. "Was the tech-priest that came here in the first place. He was possessed. It turned him into that, and the men with him into his puppets." He glances to the side, speaking into his comm-bead again. "Bring it down. Prepare the chamber for cleansing." Shadows are cast from the hole in the ceiling, and men begin to descend. Once two reach the floor, equipment starts to come down. They take what look like flamers and fuel tanks from the lines affixed to them, beginning to assemble the gear. The white-robed quartermaster that gave the weapons is with them, murmuring prayers and incantations. Kor turns and moves to work with them, rather than heading towards Yuuki. That's Tyr's job. He walks up to her, looking down at the Perfectly Normal Girl. "You and I," he says, "are going to have a conversation before you leave the ship. We are not going to speak of this 'miracle' again until we are in private." It is not a question. There isn't a hint of a request anywhere in his tone. He looks to the rest of the group. "/None/ of us are." The Confessor-Militant starts to look over. Tyr reaches up and removes his helmet, looking less decidedly ornate once he's a blue-skinned alien again instead of a mono-eyed command machine, and Kor scowls, turning back to the equipment assembly. He seems to be pointing out places for cleansing flame. "Allow me to explain. You feel like you were bait because you /were/ bait." "Among the Tau, there are two major schools of thought regarding broad combat doctrine. The one I chose to master is the Art of Kauyon, the Patient Hunter. It involves drawing an enemy into a position of vulnerability by using precisely-chosen bait that they cannot resist," he gestures at the group with his free hand, "while simultaneously keeping forces in reserve for a lethal offensive the moment the trap is sprung." Tyr nods at Kor's back. "As I had no knowledge of your ability to observe operational security," the Commander continues, "nor your potential resistance to psychic or daemonic intrusion, I felt it safer to proceed with this operation without informing you of your status. You performed perfectly, and with all the skill I expected, given your allegiances and, in many cases, your price." He inclines his head. "I thank you. Your pay is well-deserved." The flamer teams in the background are starting to get ready to do their thing. "If you wish to negotiate hazard pay or equipment prices, I would be happy to discuss it elsewhere." 

:'''{{#var:834|Valentha Summers (834)}} has posed:'''     "I -did- wonder about this mission. 'Let's entrust the security of the ship to a bunch of mercenaries' was not the choice I would've made if it was my ship." Valentha agrees, sprouting a slight grin. Did she guess? Well... probably not. Not until the cavalry arrived, anyways.     "Impressive tactical manuevering." She appears to have no further words about Yuuki's... feat... besides giving Sarah a Disapproving stare. 

:'''{{#var:571|Alexis Maaka (571)}} has posed:'''     Alexis is content to let the Confessor do his thing, and she turns to Tyr when he begins to exposit. Fear's nothing she has to worry about, but the priest's words are pretty encouraging...in a way.     She's very much not willing to get in the way of the cleanup crew, so she joins Tyr and co. where they stand.     She gives the Tau a thumbs up regarding Yuuki, even she herself is very confused by all that but can only assume 'healing factor' of some sort. A /fast/ one too.     "Somehow I'm not surprised, wasn't a bad strategy all things considered. I'd have done the same thing in your shoes, to be honest." She says, before clapping her hands at the mention of payment. "Oh, gladly so. I'm definitely keeping the shotgun, that's for sure." 

:'''{{#var:518|Yuuki Kuran (518)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki is poked, prodded, and potentially mildly chided over her race-type. Which, if we can direct you to her TOTALLY NORMAL CHARACTER SHEET, is penned in as VAM^H^H^H HUMAN (Totally Normal). She is in fact flesh and blood, and there's a decent amount of the latter on her clothes. She nods, rather dumbly, at Commander Deathgaze, adjusting her glasses back up her face. "Ah... Erm... Of course, Commander. I'd love to talk to you at length about the nothing-important that just happened. Ah, though, perhaps I could change first?" She asks. "I brought fresh clothes."     To Staren, she looks - and pulls off - totally innocent and ignorant. "But it wasn't that bad, I mean... I'm pretty normal!" She argues. "... For me. B-but the Commander said to not talk about it!"     Good save, nobody will notice.     She looks sheepishly at her bloodstained lap, hands wringing lightly. "S-sorry if it was my fault. I'm glad our bait worked, though." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah feels like all eyes are on her suddenly. She feels like she got an especially dark look from the Confessor whether or not it actually happened. She decides to just keep quiet for now and save her questions for after they're far away from the Imperial Warship. She's not sure if she should be upset with Tyr or not either. No one died after all, at least not permanently. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Yuuki gets a tilt of the head. He just said it was okay that she's not human and she doesn't have to explain, but it seems a little odd to keep loudly insisting it. Ah well, whatever.     The commander comes over. Staren frowns slightly as today's events are explained. "I don't like being used as bait. However, you correctly gauged our ability to stand up to it. It's a dangerous game you're playing, but it worked out this time. I'd appreciate if we could work out a better way to maintain opsec in the future, though. If every mission you ask for help with, we have to wonder what you're hiding or if you're lying to us, that's gonna be an unpleasant relationship all around." 

:'''{{#var:833|O'Mont're Tyr (833)}} has posed:''' "I will find you a chamber to use," the Commander says to the Totally Normal Girl. She's probably got to clean all the blood off, too. Tyr inclines his head in acknowledgement at Valentha. "Thank you. It is, as the humans say, what I do." He looks to Alexis, then. "We will discuss this. They are valuable weapons, and as you have noticed," there's a plume of heat and flame in the background, "we are suddenly less five of them." Then, to Staren and Sarah. He nods, a short, precise motion. "You are not soldiers under my command. If you were, I would expect you to trust my judgment in these matters. In this case, I thank you for your relative understanding. Many non-Tau take offense to being utilized in such a manner, though I assure you, it is a valuable and honorable thing you have done. In the future, I will consult you as to your capabilities before proceeding, and advise the Captain to trust in our allies' capabilities and judgment." 

}}