Multiverse Crisis MUSH - User contributions [en]

2492/Unexpected Visitors

2015-06-25T02:42:21Z

Inga: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2015/06/20 |Location=Dun Realtai |Synopsis=Inga gets some unexpected visitors at her new cottage in Dun Realtai--two of which come from a crashed s..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/06/20
|Location=Dun Realtai
|Synopsis=Inga gets some unexpected visitors at her new cottage in Dun Realtai--two of which come from a crashed spaceship!
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=492, 525, 796, 804
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' It's near sunset in Dun Realtai and Inga's hearthfire is burning hot, smoke rising from the chimney and drifting around the treetops in the still summer air. There's stew in the big pot, nearly ready to be eaten. A good deal of it, too. Almost as though she's expecting company. Inga has been in the garden most of the day, getting all the plants she wants in the ground. There's dirt beneath her nails and on the hem of her dress but she is perfectly happy. Brushing off her hands, she reaches for the nearby wooden staff and uses it to help pull herself back to her feet, moving to the water bucket pulled from the nearby well to clean her hands before she goes inside to have her supper--and perhaps recieve company. 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' Though at first glance, he may look like any other handsome, armed man from the area; upon closer inspection there's some signs the knight who dismounts in front of Inga's cottage is not. His clothes are made out of synthetic materials, and have carefully hidden zippers instead of more traditional fasteners. Not just that, but the heraldry on his shield is unusual, the ancient astrological signs of Earth, Venus and Mars, blemished with the mark of the eldest son. MORDRED knocks on the door, and then announces himself, "Pardon me, I have lost track of my path somewhere in my exploring of these lands, and I hoped I could receive directions here." Though he has a sword hanging from his hip, he makes no attempt to reach for it, instead going through his hair with his sword hand, a subtle gesture that is as effective at keeping his hand away from his weapon as raising his hand above his head would be. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is just ladling out some soup when there's a knock at the door. She purses her lips thoughtfully for a moment, looking toward the door. He isn't the first visitor today, but it being so late, most of the villagers wouldn't come to call when it will be dark in a while. Inga sets down the bowl and moves toward the door, hearing an unfamiliar voice outside. Still, she opens the door without hesitation and looks up. Up, because she's on the petite side and is generally accustomed to looking upward. A brow rises slightly, giving the man a quick lookover. "Lost the path? Were you headed anywhere in particular?" she inquires, her staff once again in hand. It is likely of the magical variety, carved with runes as it is, though she also leans on it for support it seems. Her eyes are sharp, taking in details about his appearance that could give her information about him and his intentions. Weapon visible, well fitted clothes of a more modern fabric than is offered in these parts. Handsome. Probably dangerous. Mentally, Inga shrugs. She's alone, which oddly makes her less worried. "Come, do you have time for a bowl of soup? I was just about to eat. I can show you back to the path afterwards," she offers, seemingly not put off by a strange armored man showing up at the door. 

:'''{{#var:492|Blurr (492)}} has posed:'''     Blurr and Sarah Rogers had met in Urbania not long ago, and though the encounter had been sliiiiightly awkward, the two of them hit it off rather easily, having had a long and interesting conversation in the food court at Terlawk Mall.     The Autobot had then allowed her to accompany him on a recon mission to determine the nature and extent of Blackbox Consortia activity in this particular sector of the galaxy. After all, having a -small- yet powerful ally accompany him on a stealth mission made perfect tactical sense. It had been going perfectly well, until their ship, the Proteus One, was discovered and they were forced to abort with the enemy hot on their trail. Sirens are shrieking all over the cockpit now, screaming the obvious which was that shields where completely down and they'd been hit in several vital areas. That Earth-looking planet nearby is going to be the only chance they've got at getting out of this alive--if they crash, the Consortia might not bother searching for them. And even if they did, it would take some time to find them...     Hence, as Inga opens the door for Mordred, what looks like a blazing ball of fire can be seen in the sky behind him. At first, it looks like it might just be a comet or something, but no...it's getting bigger and bigger by the second as it comes closer!     Meanwhile, inside the fireball:     WARNING: GRAVITATIONAL FORCES IN EXCESS OF SUBLIGHT POWER. WARNING: IMPACT IMMINENT     Blurr curses. "Tell me something I don't already know!" He pulls at the navigational controls uselessly, then gives up and glances at Sarah. "Frag it. Brace yourself...this is going to be rough." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Maybe getting to know a manic speed freak autobot wasn't the best idea after all. "Aw Hell, you told me you knew what you were doing! Look, I'm tough but I've never tried using myself as a re-entry vehicle before. I'm not keen on finding out what happens if I try!" Sarah makes sure her harnesses are secure, The frutrating part is, the controls for this ship aren't terribly different from others she's seen, but they're designed for giant robots. "Why is that light flashing red? Is that thing an external heat warning? Why does *That* thing look really angry!?" 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' MORDRED enters willingly, "I was headed to Dun Realtai, my lady. I am MORDRED, Knight Errant, and I accept your gracious hospitality." The way he says that, it's clear he takes hospitality to mean a couple things, more than simply being welcome in someone's home. He keeps his hands far away from his blade, and as he turns around to put his shield on the ground, he notices the fireball approaching. He quickly calculates its trajectory and does spectrum analysis, coming to the conclusion it's going to land close, is pretty big, and appears to be more than a mere hunk of metal. Thus, he activates his Armour. Glare-NT leaves the cave it's been stored in, and takes to the sky on a trajectory to intercept the falling spacecraft. Then, once in the right position, holds his hands forward to catch the ship and matches its calculates trajectory, though at a lower velocity to guarantee impact. Once the impact occurs, the ablative heat shield helps Glare-NT handle the heat, and the armour and some redundancy systems help the empty Armour survive the impact. Then, thrusters fire at maximum power in retrograde direction. It won't make for the most gentle landing, but it should create only a minimal crater. On the ground, MORDRED pretends for the moment he is not interacting at all with that. "Your soup smells delicious, my lady. Would you mind entertaining me with your name?" He takes a seat at the table, it's like he hasn't noticed the impending impact at all. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The golden light of the sun at sunset shines upon her face... No, that's not the sun. That's a giant meteor falling to earth! Inga's eyes go wise as saucers, her brownish green eyes reflecting the sight of the rapidly descending object. A strangled sound escapes her throat, a scream cut off. Please gods, don't hit the village! She's out in the woods quite a bit, maybe it will just destroy some trees! Still, there is the issue of FIRE! "Odin's bones!" she curses, grabbing a bucket and heading for the well as if that would help /at all/ if a forest fire starts up. Then, some other.../thing/ is there, intercepting the crashing object, helping at least to soften the impact... Inga turns and looks to Mordred. For the time being, she doesn't even seem to process his name, even though it is one she knows. She's too dumbfounded by him accepting her hospitality and going inside as if a meteor/ship was crashing to earth and there wasn't some kind of giant suit of armor out there. Briefly, Inga stutters as her mind just overloads for a moment. "Ah....Inga. Inga Freyasdottir, wisewoman," she replies vacantly, then shakes her head. Her own voice pulls her out of inaction. "That...we should...get a bucket, if that thing is still on fire we have to put it out," she says, pointing to the bucket. Tch! Why doesn't she know a water related spell!? Well, Inga begins to move toward the site of impact, bucket in one hand, staff in the other, ungainly moving as quickly as possible. A chivalrous knight would bloody well follow! 

:'''{{#var:492|Blurr (492)}} has posed:'''     Blurr sighs. "Sorry Rogers but I guess you're just really catching me on an off cycle. This kind of slag happens all the time in my line of work. We at least figured out who might be--" Suddenly, Mordred's Glare-NT pops up on the sensor arrays, though they are damaged. "The slag is -that- thing?" he wonders, confused. Hopefully it doesn't want to shoot them, and hopefully it doesn't belong to the Consortia.     Fortunately though, despite the massive size of the ship, the NT is able to survive the collossal impact and direct the vessel away from the village, instead sending it to rest in the woods nearby. Several trees are flattened and set ablaze in the crater that results, but none of the locals have been harmed, thanks to the resident Knight. Just how villainous is Mordred anyway? Villains don't save the day! Do they? 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     "We're alive!" Sarah proclaims, honestly surprised that the ship managed to make something approaching a soft landing. "If we'd managed to miss the trees that wouldn't have been a half bad landing! I'm pretty sure the locals know we're here though. We should probably go apologize and uh.. fix the woods?"     She flies up to hit the button to open the external hatch. and makes her way outside. Her outfit comes so close to being able to fit in in a world like this. Except that chainmail halter tops probably aren't that common and the Red White and Blue Star shield on her back *might* be some kind of bizarre heraldry. There's also the fact that she was At the mall recent and got a violet streak in her hair and her nails done to match while she was there. (Her gloves are stuffed in a belt pouch) Also, she's flying with no visible means of support. Way to be inconspicuous! 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' MORDRED does follow Inga out, grabbing the bucket as he goes, and mounts his horse. "Need a ride, Lady Freyasdottir?" He asks, staying near Inga as he starts to get to the landing site, giving her an opportunity to climb on before he rushes onwards, with or without her. He doesn't curse, he stays calm, but he does act with a certain sense of urgency now that he's been properly alerted of the events that occurred. Glare-NT pushes itself out of the crash site, and retreats towards the cave MORDRED has been using to store it out of sight. No word is spoken by the empty Armour to those who fell, but Sarah can probably recognize it, and even if she can't, it's almost certainly in Union files by now. It's MORDRED's. When he reaches the site he starts working on firefighting with the bucket, at the same time, he shouts, "Hello, anyone made it through?" The voice is the same as when it comes from within the Armour. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks up at Mordred. A horse. A man with a horse. Oh, she does love this place. Horses, she knows! This makes sense. "Yes, that would be quite appreciated Sir Mordred," she says, accepting any help offered to get her into the saddle. And they're off! A few moments later, when Sarah emergest, a woman is waiting at the edge of the impact site with a bucket and a stick, looking rather alarmed as a girl in strange clothing (how is chain mail even useful when worn like that!?) who is /flying/ appears from out of the craft. Stupified, Inga throws the bucket of water onto one of the fallen trees. The fire hisses as a bit of smoke rises, but that's about it. She's officially out of helpfulness in that regard. She is however, fairly proficient with healing. "Are you hurt? I am a healer!" she calls. How will they put out this fire? Would rain be too much to hope for? 

:'''{{#var:492|Blurr (492)}} has posed:'''     The fire actually isn't too substantial, some of it had been put out when the NT grabbed onto the hull, and as the craft had slowed drastically when the drone pushed back against it, the friction with the atmosphere had also decreased in intensity, causing the extreme heat to have mostly dissipated by the time it struck the ground. There are a few flames and burning cinders here and there, but mostly just a lot of smoke.     No response comes from Blurr, however, at least not yet. He appears to still be stuck in the wreckage. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:''' Sarah watches the Glare-NT IT as it retreats. It makes her a bit uncomfortable since she's pretty sure she saw a report about something that looked like it, but there are more pressing concerns. "Uh.. Hi there, Thank you but we're fine! We're more worried about you. Was anyone hurt? Sorry about the mess, We'll do everything we can to help clean up!"     She glares back inside the ship, "Won't we!?" She calls in accusingly "Do you have water jets to cool the ship down? Maybe we can help put the fires out?" 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' "I don't think anyone was, unless there's others inside that vessel of yours." MORDRED keeps trying to put the fires out, fortunately it's not too bad. He doesn't immediately respond to Sarah's glare, until he gets closer to her, and speaks softly, "My lady, please do not be alerted. I am a guest in these lands, honour bound to do my part in keeping it safe. Even if I had quarrel with you, I would not pursue it here. Glare-NT caught you falling out of the sky, and is now going back to base. I have been told the locals don't handle high tech very well." MORDRED then distances himself from Sarah again, and just keeps working on helping the area clean. For the benefit of Sarah, he introduces himself again, "I am MORDRED, Knight Errant; and this lady is Inga Freyasdottir, wisewoman." He keeps his hands busy and filled, certain to complicate drawing the sword on his hip. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga blinks several times, then shakes her head. Perhaps she'll have to bring a fire extinguisher or two from the apartment. That's really a rather good idea. If nothing else, Inga has taken away a bit more wisdom from this experience. "No, no one is hurt. Might not have been the case if not for...whatever that thing was. You are alright? Well, I am glad to hear it...wait--there is still someone in there?" she asks, relief turned quickly back to alarm. As the woman doesn't seem worried however, Inga calms herself. "As it seems that your...plane? has crashed, I imagine you will need some assistance. My home is nearby. I was just ready to serve supper. I would be willing to expand my hospitality further," she tells Sarah. Mordred intruduces himself, and her. It is only now that it seems to click. She looks to Mordred with slightly wide eyes. "Mordred? From the stories?" she asks. Possibility he'll think she's a weirdo is high, but ah well. Today is just going to be one of those days. 

:'''{{#var:492|Blurr (492)}} has posed:'''     Isn't it kind of -always- one of those days? This is the Multiverse, after all. However, despite Sarah's calls, no response comes from within, save for a shower of sparks from a broken panel. That certainly doesn't bode well... 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''      Sarah gives a respectful nod to Mordred, "I believe you, and I'm in no mood to fight at the moment. I'm glad you didn't see our little accident as a sign of aggression." She says in relief, "I'm Sarah Marie Rogers, sometimes known as Crusader. It's nice to meet you both. I wish it was under better circumstances."     She glances back inside the ship worriedly, "Thank you for your hospitality, but I think we may need some help after all. More of the mechanical sort than medical though." She heads back inside the ship to see what's causing the sparks. 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' "Yes, MORDRED, eldest son of King Arthur, I've been told the legend is common, though I wouldn't call it particularly accurate. I do not believe this is particularly important right now, however, people need our aid." MORDRED answers Inga patiently, as he heads into the ship as well, analysing the broken machinery inside. "I fear I was never a great engineer to begin with, and this technology is completely alien to me, I'm afraid I can't be of much help, other than setting up a beacon for allies of yours to come collect you." At least he offers to do that much. "Otherwise, it's my pleasure to meet you properly, Lady Rogers. I believe I might have seen you on the battlefield, but never directly engaging me in combat. Even if we had, however, it would surely have been in the context of executing our respective duties, which I do not consider a cause for quarrel." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's mouth dips into a frown, peering over at the ship as sparks fly. Indeed, that is worrisome, especially if someone is still inside. She looks back to Sarah, blinking. "Well I am afraid I will be no help to you in that," she replies. Inga is lucky she can work a radio. What is also a bit worrisome, is the interchange between Sarah and Mordred. To this, Inga merely raises an expectant eyebrow toward Mordred. He's accepted her hospitality. She's like to know if there's anything she should be worried about here. Mordred kindly answers her question, anyway. "Ah, well, I did not expect it to be as it is in the stories. Nothing is," she replies with a sigh. So, the two are enemies? This is getting quite trying. Inga is hungry and there is perfectly good soup waiting! 

:'''{{#var:492|Blurr (492)}} has posed:'''     As Sarah and Mordred begin to approach the ship, a flash of light suddenly appears in front of them. It looks like a human, though oddly dressed in comparison to the locals. Sarah will recognize it though, as Blurr's holomatter avatar--not unlike SHIELD's Light Model Decoys or hard light holograms. But unlike before when they were at the mall, it flickers as if struggling to remain in existence, a panicked expression on its face. "S-s-s--d-don't--kk---g--b--f--leaking--!" It's hard to pick through the static and other inscruable sounds that might remind one of a broken playback device. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah gets a pained look in her face, "The only part of that I understood was leaking! What's leaking!?" She says in an almost panicked tone. She starts to look for Blurr's actual body, presuamably still in the cockpit, and maybe buried under peices of the ship? "This is bad.. my friend is probably *more* complicated than this whole ship!" 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' MORDRED would fix Blurr up if he could, but he can't, so he settles for, "If you know anyone who could fix your friend, I will help you contact them. I wish I could do more, but I am utterly unfamiliar with this technology, I would likely do more harm than good." He is already setting up his internal radio to broadcast audio signals he receives from the vicinity. "I'm sorry that I have not yet been able to taste your soup, Lady Freyasdottir, it smelled delicious. Can it be warmed up easily once we return?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' As the hologram appears, Inga takes an involuntary step back in surprise. Then, her brow furrows, recognition dawning. "Blurr?" she asks. Then Inga sighs heavily, shoulders slumping. Well, that explains everything. "Blurr? Are you alright?" she asks. She has no idea what she can do, but she'll help if she can. Another sigh, Inga looks to Mordred. "Yes, yes, easily enough. Do not trouble yourself. It will still be there," she explains, waving a hand. If there's anything she can do, she'll do it, otherwise, Inga extends her invitation once more then heads back to eat her supper. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''      Blurr's Holomatter Avatar flickers out of existence. Sarah meanwhile. is poking around his real body trying to figure out what the problem is. She can lift debris off him as if it;s made of plastic, but that doesn't seem to help, nor does he appear to be leaking anything she can identify.     A few moments later she emerges from the ship, actually walking this time. "I'm no engineer either." She sighs, "He's got a couple lights on and there's a sound of active machinery inside him, but He's not moving." She pauses and looks back inside, "I could drag him out of there, but I have to assume it would be just as bad as moving an injured human, The best thing I know to do if Call for help and hope they get here in time" She looks worried and frustrated. 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' Any nearby radio capable devices, in the broad sense of nearby, suddenly pick up a quick emergency call 'Mechanical life form needs urgent repairs, presumed Union ally or member, please avoid arriving in anything overly high tech.' This message keeps repeating, and it's in MORDRED's voice. He hasn't spoken it, however. What he does speak is this, "I've activated a distress call. If there's nothing else we can do, perhaps we should eat and check out to see if you need any medical aid, Lady Rogers?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga frowns gently when the hologram disappears. A bit worrying, but she's talked to Blurr before about what he is, and she is fairly sure that he will actually be alright. "I am sure he will be alright, but we will not be far. Help will arrive shortly I imagine. I do believe Blurr is with the Union. They're quite good about aid like this," she says, hoping to assuage Sarah's fears. Inga nods to Mordred. "Indeed, I have hot soup and bread baked earlier today. Come and join us for supper," she says to Sarah, motioning for her to follow. Inga's certainly going to eat, and that's that. It isn't a far trip back to Inga's cottage and as soon as she arrives she moves to reheat the soup. The hearth fire is still going strong, the soup piping hot again in no time. In contrast to most of the home, there is a recognizably modern table. It's probably IKEA. Inga motions for her guests to take a seat while she gets bowls and starts passing everything out. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     "Thank you, Mordred was it?" The only Mordred Sarah knows is from Arthurian Legends, and she didn't imagine him to be anything like this man. "The few Confederates I've met have turned out to be far more amiable than I was told to expect." There's a look of guilt on her face at Inga's suggestion, and she looks back towards the ship a couple times before she accepts the offer, "Alright.." She says in defeat, "I am pretty hungry." She doesn't mention anything about the offered medical aid, she's quite certain she's fine. She's also rather overconfident about herself. 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' "My name is MORDRED, yes." MORDRED agrees, and as they return, he takes a seat. His eyes take a good look at Sarah, nothing remotely lecherous, just trying to see if she has any wounds that she is not admitting to having. "The Confederacy is a varied group, some of us are more amiable than others. I am a Knight and the heir to my father's throne. My duties and my honour would not allow me to treat my enemies with disrespect unless they earned in a manner deserving of it." As he receives his soup, he starts eating it. After a few spoonfuls, he covers up a small burp. "This is delicious, Lady Freyasdottir. Thank you for sharing." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sits as well with her dinner. "I've ale too, if either of you would like some," she offers. Hall's have been burnt down for not offering ale to guests when there is ale to offer. Vikings are serious about this. % The soup is good and meaty, chicken with rice, carrots and celery. It's certainly homemade, as is the bread. "I am pleased that you enjoy it," she says with a genuine smile. Inga blinks then. "Ah, so you are in the Confederacy Sir Morded?" she confirms, no sign of dislike or fear. Just interest. "I'm with the Union as well. What brings you to Dun Realtai Sir Mordred?" she asks. Inga then looks to Sarah, brow rising. "And you and Blurr...I take it the visit wasn't intended?" 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah sits down as sips a spoonful of soup suspicously at first, and then quickly follows up with a couple large mouthfuls, "This is amazing! So this is what they meant by home cooking!" Most of the food she's eaten came out of a sort of replicator. "Ale would be great!" She says hopefully, There's no way she'd be legal drinking age in a modern world.     She offers a smile to MORDRED, "I hope that we won't have to call each other enemies any time soon." She looks back to Inga and blushes a bit, "We were just trying to head home, but.. Blur tends to be in a hurry to get everywhere. Maybe this will get him to slow down." 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' "I am here because after I had fought Saber in a friendly duel, she invited me to stay in these lands as a guest. I am exploring the area, because many of the people here, Saber included, fascinate me. It helps that it's far more pleasant than home. Ale would be appreciated." MORDRED explains his reasons for being here, and then he smiles to Sarah. "We are enemies, but that doesn't mean we have to dislike eachother. I have no quarrel with you, and I do not consider your allegiance a defining feature of who you are. I would rather you would not sully my honour by acting as though I have pretended not to be." He empties his bowl, "Rest assured it's nothing personal, and that according to the laws of hospitality, I am honour bound not to engage in hostilities while I am a guest." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga does not care about legal drinking ages. The mere concept is completely ridiculous to her. It wouldn't even occur to her to question Saah's age. She's not a baby, and is therefore able to drink ale. As she is also obviously not a small child, she can also drink non watered down ale. With a smile, Inga reaches over to the ice box, pulling out three bottles of ale, bottled in Chicago at a place called Mac's. "Yes, Blurr does like to go fast, doesn't he. He nearly scared the life out of me when we first met," she says, shaking her head. Blurr had been there that very first night. What a night that had been... Inga shakes her head slightly to clear it of the memories, looking from Sarah to Mordred. "Ah, you dueld Lady Arturia? I have seen her duel once. A great shield-maiden indeed. I'm sure Sir Bedivere was grittig his teeth all the while," she adds with a small smile. Inga nods at his mention of hospitality, looking pleased. "It is good that you understand the importance of these things. Now...you are not from the same world as Sir Bedivere and Lady Arturia then? What is your world like?" she asks. "Or you could show me, I suppose...but that...can be complicated," she adds, pursing her lips slightly. Curiousity wars with caution--her visions can be unpredictable. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah stares at Mordred for a long moment. trying to make sense of what he just said. "I... Uh.. I'm sorry." She murmurs finally, deciding to focus on her food for now. She's quite suprised when the 'ale' comes in a modern bottle, She was expecting, even hoping it would be from a barrel and served in a wooden or metal mug. But Hey, it's booze! She decides to keep quiet for now and let Mordred talk about himself, maybe she'll find something out that will explain his strange code of honor. 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' Opening up his Ale with nothing but his fingers, MORDRED proceeds to take a deep sip before he settles into storytime. "My father. John Arthur, is the High King of Earth, Valerie la Guin, the Queen of Venus, is his vassal and Wife, L4-NC3-L07, the Slave King of Mars, is his vassal and right hand. His heraldry consists of the signs of those planets, with empty slots for the planets that haven't acknowledged his tyrant's justice." He sounds like he's unhappy with the situation, "Because he does not acknowledge me as a legitimate son, my mother raised me in exile on Mercury, beyond his reach, so he could not kill me." "I intend to force his abdication and take his throne, end his wasteful war." He empties up his bottle, glancing towards the ice box. "A war in which Knights die each year fighting an enemy that does not yield any ground despite his efforts, but because this enemy does not wish to yield to his demands, he refuses to grant both his own people and his enemy's peace. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but there is no other option." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga opens her ale with an opener, sipping as Mordred begins to explain. At the very beginning, Inga's eyebrows begin to rise. John Arthur? High King of /EARTH/!? Queen of VENUS!? Something confusing with letters and numbers, a Slave King of Mars!? EXILE ON MERCURY!? Her expression, at first, is one of 'you're /insane/'. She chokes slightly on her next sip of ale while she gives herself a mental peptalk. This is the multiverse, Inga. This isn't the weirdest thing you've heard. A flying ship just crashed near your house. Cars exist. People can /fly/. YOU'VE MET THOR! A deep breath is taken, eyes closing for a moment...and she's back in control. "I'm...sorry. That was...not what I was expecting. I am from Uppsala...a country now called Sweden, on Earth. I was brought...forward in time," she explains with a quiet sigh. "The Multiverse has been quite a shock to me. But I am acclimating," she adds, raising her chin slightly. Proud. "That sounds terrible Sir Mordred. I hope that the war can be resolved, for you make it sound as if many are tired of losing their lives for it," she says, collected now and sympathetic. "Where do you hail from, Sarah Rogers?" she asks then, looking to Sarah. "You mentioned you are in the Union. You must be new. Newer than I, anyway." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''      Sarah tries her best not to laugh at Inga's reactions, but a few snickers slip out, "Are You going to be okay? You know the 20 foot Blue Robot who oowns the thing outside and you this *his* story is crazy? Mine is at least as Bizarre." She grins, "My parents were kidnapped to a planet far across the universe to fight a private little war. We have no idea where it is because there were no stars in the sky. The Two major players managed to kill each other and leave everyone else stranded. Eventually they stopped fighting, made peace, and settled down to raise families."     She pauses and pulls the shield down off her back, "My Father was.. is Steve Rogers." She says this like the name is all they would need to understand the shield, "Not the same one that's in the union though, it's very.. Multiverse." She sighs, "We used a combination of magic and technology to get here and try to prove to our parents that they way home was safe. In retrospect, not a great idea. But we still hope to find the location of our homeworld and build a warpgate there so we can be reunited." 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' "I hope I can resolve the matter without further bloodshed, or if blood must be shed, through an honourable duel between me and my father." MORDRED sighs, as he looks at his empty ale. "Alas, I fear that it won't be as clean as that. Even though I hope for the best, I am forced to plan for the worst. And to do so, I need resources. I found people who offered me the opportunity to earn those, and I accepted it." He doesn't sound like he regrets the decision, but the way he phrases it, it sounds like he may have decided otherwise if he had to make the choice now instead of when he did. "Honour demands I respect my oath of loyalty." He listens to Sarah's story, and at the end of it, "That sounds like a messy situation, I'm sorry to hear about it." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Sarah, blushing slightly. "As I said, the Multiverse has been quite a shock to me. When he said he was Mordred I thought...well, I was wrong," she says. Somehow, in trying /not/ to stare at Sarah's strange clothing, Inga had missed the mjolnir pendant aroud her neck. Steve Rogers and the shield mean little to her, but that? That gets her immediate attetion. "Oh!" she exclaims, reaching forward. "You are a follower of the gods!?" she asks, clearly excited, reaching to pull out her own mjolnir pedant that had fallen beneath the neckline of her dress. Inga looks back to Mordred, nodding grimly. "Indeed, things are rarely so neat. Perhaps I could help. I can consult the wyrd perhaps. I am a Seer," she explains. Mjolnir buddies! Inga is so ready to make another friend that worships her gods! There may be a mental fantasy of her, Sarah and Valka frollicking through the woods the sacrificing a goat to Thor currently playing out. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:''' Sarah gives Mordred a nervous but respectful look, "Good luck in your quest." say says simply, but genuinely. Inga's voice draws her attention back tyo her, and she goes wide eyed when she sees the other Mjolnir necklace. "Follower of the gods!?" She gasps, fingering her own necklace nervously, "I uh... well, Kind of? Not exactly..." She swallows and tries to think of a way to explain this. "Ah... Thor in my world and I had.. an understanding?" 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah finishes up by taking a *long* swig from her bottle. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga blinks. "I do not understand. You know Thor!? You have an...understanding?" she asks, blank. Then, after a moment, something seems to dawn on her. "Oh...OOH, I see. You do not mean my god, but the Thor in the Union. Ah so you...Aaaah..." she says, calming as she rapidly jumps to conclusions. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah takes a deep breath. Okay, you can do this! "Remember when I said the Poeple of my world stopped fighting and settled down peacefully? Thor was among them, and to seal the peace, he forswore Mjolnir and laid it down at a site comemeorating the end of the war. Again, Not the Thor in the UNion, but a very similar version from my world. 25 years later. I was in a desperate situation and.. uhm.. picked it up." She blushes a bit. "Pop was *so* mad at me.. But Thor calmed him down and said since I was able to lift it, It belonged to me." The story is probably pretty unbelievavble on it's own, so she demonstrates, reaching up to touch her necklace, and suddenly Mjolnir is in her hand. She sets in down on the table with a sheepish grin. 

:'''{{#var:492|Blurr (492)}} has posed:'''     Suddenly, Sarah's comms activate. << Rogers! Theslagareyoudoing? >> Yep, it's Blurr, and he doesn't sound happy. << You know he's a Fed, right?!?! And you know the Consortia were after us, we can't endanger these people by hanging around! >> Unfortunately, war is a much more serious thing for the Autobot. Opposite factions aren't taken lightly...there's a reason the Decepticons are as hated as they are. Deceptions, and anyone who allies with them, including the Confederacy.     The avatar then also appears in the room abruptly. "Sorry to interrupt guys, but...SarahandIreallyhavetogetgoing." He blurts out the last part in a string of nearly-incomprehensible words all run together, as is typical of his speech patterns when he's...less in control. The holomatter shoots a suspicious glare at Mordred as he speaks. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga gawks as Sarah explains. Her jaw reaches surprising new levels as Mjolnir is set upon her table. Something in her mind just short-circuits. Her eyes roll back in her head as he muscles go limp. Fainted, right as Blurr appears. Eh, she'll be fine. 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     Sarah has to tug the comlink out of her ear when Blurr starts yelling over it, "What the hell!? We thought you were dead! Okay okay.. The situation isn't as bad as it looks.. Just give me a minute alright? And then tell me what happened, you said you were leaking something!" She picks up Mjolnir and points it at Mordred, "On your Honor. You will make sure this woman recovers!" It's stated rather like a command. 

:'''{{#var:492|Blurr (492)}} has posed:'''     Blurr gawks at Inga as she faints. He -knew- it, that Fed was up to no good! And then...Sarah is -trusting- him to take care of her?? He stares at her. "Are you insane?! You're telling -him- to take care of her? We're taking her to Njorun. -Now-. And I don't get killed easily, I didn't survive four million Earth years of war by sheer luck."     Outside, the Autobot's vehicle form is waiting for her. "A team en route to the extraction point, let's not keep them waiting." 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     "Look, he was nothing but honest about who he was!" Sarah tries to explain to the projection, "He has a code of Honor, same as me, same as my Pop! That why we weren't fighting! If I don't respect that than I shouldn't be carrying this thing around!" She waves her God-Hammer at him. "If you absolutely insist on tqaking her with us, I'll help, but It could be seen as kidnapping!" 

:'''{{#var:804|Project MORDRED (804)}} has posed:''' MORDRED looks at Blurr incredulously, "You insult my honour. I can't let that slide, but I can delay your recompense." He states, calmly, emotionlessly. "If you insist on not trusting me, let Lady Rogers take her to the nearby town. Its leaders are aligned with the Union. Saber and Sir Bedivere. I am here as their guest." He keeps an eye on Inga, and on Blurr, but makes no move for his weapons. "They stated their preference that nothing too overtly multiversal, and that includes a mechanical lifeform, would enter Dun Realtai." 

:'''{{#var:492|Blurr (492)}} has posed:'''     "Kidnapping?" Blurr asks, flabberghasted. "We're on her -team-, duh. She clearly needs medical assistance. It'd be wrong to leave her alone with him! Okay, maybe he does have a 'code of honor' like yours, or whatever, but what if he's lying? We can't take that risk. Now get her inside, so we can get her the help she needs." And then Mordred even agrees with him. Good! "See, even -he- agrees with me. Now let's get going, before the Consortia show up and raze this place to the ground looking for us" 

:'''{{#var:796|Sarah Rogers (796)}} has posed:'''     "Fine.." Sarah says through gritted teeth. "But whatever happens as a consquence of this is *your* responsibility, got it!?" She turns to Mordred and looks him in the eyes. "I ask forgiveness on behalf of my friend. And for what it's worth. I apologize for this." She sighs, puts her weapons away, and goes to lift Inga gently into her arms, handling her rather like a oversized infant. and heads out the door towards their ship. 

}}

Inga

2014-11-22T04:34:51Z

Inga:

{{CharacterNew
|NameOnMUSH=Inga
|Color=#0099FF
|Char_id=525
|Img=http://tinypic.com/r/igc5yg/8
|FullName=Inga Freyasdottir
|Gender=Female
|Species=Human
|Theme=The Secret World
|Chartype=OC
|Function=Witch, Prophetess, Healer
|Faction=Union
|Rank=6-Recruit
|Ranktype=Ally
|Groups=
|Quote="Why yes, I can cure that rash you have. Here, drink this--wait, no! Not that one. That's bone dust from plague victims. This one--this is certainly the one."
|PAge=20
|AAge=20
|Aging=Unknown
|Height=5'0
|Weight=*eyenarrow*
|Hair=White
|Eyes=Hazel
|Voice=
|Song=The Witch's Aria https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2_gytAGnW8
|Profile=Out of the dark ages of human history, Inga was chosen by The Buzzing. As linear time is generally considered “cute” by the Buzzing, the Bees apparently saw nothing wrong with choosing someone from a drastically different time to drink of their wisdom. Before being transported to Agartha and onward, Inga was a local cunning woman (a witch) and known prophetess, taught many mysteries by the local pagan priesthood. She is from a radically different time and finds herself confounded by technology, social change, and her new-found powers. As a learned and gifted woman of the time, Inga is accustomed to a certain degree of respect and fear. She is however, relatively friendly and helpful. Despite a skewed morality for the time, she believes herself to be a good person and aims to be helpful to the community.
|Powers=GAIAN ANTIBODY: Inga has been empowered by The Buzzing, a sapient techno-organic hive-mind that simultaneously resides both within the boughs of the World Tree and outside linear time and space altogether. As a result, Inga has been made into something more than human, putting Inga in excellent physical condition, allowing her to recover from non-mortal, non-maiming wounds in anywhere from moments to minutes, and granting an exceptional resistance to pathogens and poisons, especially the supernatural kind. Should she be killed, The Buzzing removes her Anima form (functionally her soul) from herbody and returns it to the nearest Anima Well or similar point of natural power (ley line nexus, druids grove, etc) where she may recorporate in a new body or locate and regenerate her dead one. While in Anima form, Inga is vulnerable to any effects that specifically target incorporeal spirits, and while they can view the physical world, they cannot interact with it except in the case of specific special objects or entities.

THE BUZZING: As a direct result of being empowered by one of their number, Inga has access to the collective knowledge of The Buzzing, a hive-mind that collects information from all of space and time. Inga generally gets random broadcasts in her mind from The Buzzing, usually explaining background information about the area or whatever horrible thing shes dealing with. It can be great for picking up context and figuring out just HOW things got this bad, but it has its drawbacks, including being rarely straightforward and somewhat random in timing and content. Even if it's related to the area or phenomenon she is dealing with, it won't always be obvious. (See +info Inga/The_Buzzing for more information.)

ANIMA WIELDER: In addition to secret knowledge and the ability to recover from even death, Ingas empowerment grants her the ability to control Anima, a source of magical power that flows directly from Gaia. Through the use of either a weapon or a talisman, Anima can be used to enhance Ingas capabilities and grant new abilities entirely. This power is channeled through weapons or magical devices as foci to create various offensive effects, while it is used in worn talismans of various types in order to make them stronger and tougher than any normal human. Anima may be used (primarily offensively) without a focus, but the unfocused release often proves dangerous to more than just the wielders foes. (See +info Inga/Anima for more info.)

WORLD-TREE CACHE: An Anima Wielder, connected to Agartha as they are, is able to exploit that connection in another way: They can open a tiny channel to a space in the great world tree, and store items there. This can happen functionally anywhere, as Agartha touches all places and times. The space is not very large, but its large enough to hold a couple hundred items (RPG rules about stacks apply). The storage is also not entirely secure. While no one has ever reported finding anothers cache, some Anima Wielders find that their stuff is rearranged, or an item or two might be missing Or there might be a mysterious glob of honey where there wasnt one before.
|Skills=PROPHECY: Visions, dreams, omens, divination...Inga has many ways in which she gains insight into the working of the world, including the future. Fate however, is never set in stone. The prophecies are a possible future. Often these visions can sometimes be interpreted as hearing The Buzzing. (Consent of players applies)

HERBOLOGY: Inga has been trained in the proper use of many herbs for both medical and magical purposes.

MYTHOLOGY AND FOLKLORE: As a trained priestess and prophetess, Inga has extensive knowledge of the mythology and folklore of her people.

CHARMS AND ENCHANTMENTS: Inga is versed in many charms and enchantments using runes and staves, plants, and talismans. These are most often used for protection; making armor stronger, making its wearing quicker. Can also be used to make blades sharper, grant magical sight (such as to see the spiritual). In her time, she also made many a fertility charm and charms to protect women in childbirth, etc. Charms and enchantments generally take time and work, the more powerful the charm the more time and work it takes to make. These things also usually require payment or a sacrifice of some kind (in her time, often animal sacrifices).

CURSES: Inga can uses curses to inflict diseases such as rashes, hayfever, warts, infertility....again, the bigger the curse, the more time, effort and materials go into it. She can curse an individual or a small group--not a country. (Consent certainly applies for all)

ELEMENTALIST: Beginner abilities in Elemental attacks; Electric and fire attacks that do a moderate amount of damage.

BLOOD MAGIC: Inga is versed in what corresponds to the modern form of blood magic; capable of forming protective barriers around herself and others, using her own blood offensively and draining other's vital fluids.
|Assets=AGARTHA CONDUIT: A seemingly brass and iron object about the size of a baseball, an Agartha Conduit allows Inga to return to the Hollow Earth of their home world from anywhere in the Multiverse -- albeit on a one-way trip. When a Conduit is used, its very obvious, and requires a short period of focus that is capable of being interrupted (typically with violence). Use of an Agartha Conduit may be prevented with wards against teleportation and cross-world travel.
|NPCs=
|Disadvantages=BRIGHT AURA: The process of making CHARNAME an Anima Wielder has left its mark on HIS/HER soul. Anyone with the ability to perceive auras or any form of souls or soul power reveals CHARNAMEs nature. There is no known way for HIM/HER to hide this, which makes it quite difficult if they want to avoid detection.

Skewed Morality: Inga is from a world and time with a morality and word-view drastically different from most people's modern sensibilities. She has been involved in both animal and human sacrifice, and sees these things are necessary parts of her religion of course, she will be learning different ways from the people she meets. It's bound to make for very interesting interaction, and may well land her enemies due to misunderstandings.

Illiterate: Inga is from a time in which people did not really read or write. Runes were used as a rudimentary alphabet, mostly for inscriptions, grave markers, etc. She speaks a small bit of Latin but cannot read or write it.

Technological Incompetence: Inga is confounded by technology. She has absolutely no idea how most things workthe modern household may as well operate by magic. In fact, magic would honestly make more sense. She will need to be taught how to use electricity, never mind computers, motor vehicles, and guns.

Disability: Inga was born with what is essentially cerebral palsy. Her hips are disformed in such a way that she walks with a pronounced limp. While being one of the Bees has improved her constitution considerably, she still walks with a limp that will slow her down. She uses a rune carved staff to improve her gait, but she most certainly will not be winning any races.
}}

735/TSW: Let Me In

2014-10-08T19:18:39Z

Inga: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2014/10/04 |Location=The Secret World <TSW> |Synopsis=Inga brings Harry to Kingsmouth, where they meet Faruja and co. and Riva and Wuyin. Upon inve..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2014/10/04
|Location=The Secret World <TSW>
|Synopsis=Inga brings Harry to Kingsmouth, where they meet Faruja and co. and Riva and Wuyin. Upon investigating a mysterious black substance, Harry becomes infected!
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=152, 206, 495, 515, 525
|Tinyplot=
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Kingsmouth. Her mission and her bane. This is where she'd first made her entrance into the multiverse. What an introduction. Here, the smell of honey is thick. The sound of buzzing fills thet air as it would in a garden on a summer day, except that as they pass out of the Agartha entrance it is clearly autumn. It is cold, darkness permeating. A fog hangs over the sky. The difference in light between day and night is negligable. It /seems/ to be daytime, but it is impossible to tell the location of the distant sun. Inga runs her fingers over the prow of the longboat as they walk past it, shaking her head softly. "Welcome to Kingsmouth...what did you think of Agartha?" she asks with a smile. Inga certainly never thought she'd see Yggdrasil like that. "We'll likely hit some resistance before we reach the fire station, but I have a few things prepared that should help us," she says, reaching for the long knife at her belt. She unsheaths it and without hesitation, presses it to her finger until blood is drawn. She reaches up with the bloodied finger and quickly draws a stave on her forehead before reaching toward Dresden to do the same. Welcome also to Inga's blood magic. "It will draw the eye away from you. As long as we stay away from the undead and the draug they should not see us unless we get right next to them--at which point they will smell us. I have to work on that," she comments. "This way," she gestures, then leads the way. A little while later, the firestation comes into view. It is a fairly unremarkable building except for the ward that surrounds it. A bone fence, carefully crafted and powered. A masterpiece of magic, empowered with runes, Inga's own anima and the inherent magical energy of the bones of the people who died in this place, their spirits acting to protect others from the forces that killed them. "There it is," she says, motioning ahead. 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     Harry Dresden really wants to light this place on fire, forever. There's an urge and inkling bubbling away in the back of his mind at just how WRONG all of this is. How awful the landscape feels, the much the murk the clouds and the FOG. Also the Zombies. Fire. That would be a good answer.     He's good though, as they traverse the back country of the Island, watching Zombies ignore them as they reach the station, and its wards and bone fence. The Wizard's staff clicks against the concrete of the parking lot, before he finally lets out a sigh of relief. "Hells bells this is awful." 

:'''{{#var:152|Faruja (152)}} has posed:''' Speaking of fire, the two might find their path dramatically less full of the local undead. How convenient that there's a fire station nearby, because if the trio of figures standing about were any more inclined to burning things there might actually be a need. The robed and golden armored figure of Faruja Senra stands over the flailing corpse of what's likely the twentieth undead laid about in flames. Clawed and armored toes rip out it's throat before kicking it away, and a final blast from his Seraphic Flamethrower sets it alight. Behind him, a woman only about two inches taller, thin, and sporting both glasses and similar robes to the rat laughs in pure bliss as fire bursts from her hands, immolating some of the last remaining undead. The third figure is a tall bunny-eared, chocolate skinned woman wielding a shotgun with frightening precision and a cheery smile as she blasts the final undead to burning bits with what are likely incendiary rounds. The robed woman looks about, and then sighs. "Ohhhh, and I was hoping for more! It has been too long since a proper Purge! Truly, we should set this entire, filthy, corrupt world aflame Senra! Surely the people here are all Heretics fit for the pyre!" Spits the woman. Faruja and Berri share a sigh. "There art faithful and true yet amongst them, Inquisitor Caecillia. Wheat from the chaffe first, mine dear." The mousey-looking woman hmph's in irritation. "...Fine. Then I'm leaving. That little Cult leader is still flailing about, and I have a new technique to try on the little Heretic." With a blue flash, she's gone. Cue a familiar voice, and Faruja raises an arm against the smoke and smell of burning bodies. "...Hail, travellers! Ser Dresden!? Fancy meeting ye out here! Lord's blessings to thee! Come, come! Let us exchange companions amidst the scent of God's will done!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' There are certainly days that Inga feels the same about Kingsmouth. Is it any wonder Inga usually sleeps at Dun Realtai? Kingsmouth is an awful place, but it wasn't always. There are still people here, people alive and trying to hold out. People who can't just come through Agartha, and for some reason, it seems ordinary people (like the army, etc.) can't or won't come in. Inga looks to Dresden, hoping he means the place and not her bone fence. She's rather proud of that fence! Yes, she'll assume he means the place in general. "Yes...yes it is," she agrees. "This is what we have to try to fix..." Inga trails off. She thought she'd smelled smoke on the air, but figured it was only the old woman's fire on the wind. What she sees before her causes her eyes to go round as teacups. There are several people setting fire to the undead. Spectacularly. One of them is raving about purging the heretics. Inga feels a spike of fear, followed rapidly by anger. Her hand moves to the knife at her belt, her eyes narrowed dangerously. The woman disappears suddenly, another shock, but Inga has at least seen Staren do this. The voice that hails them is vaguely familiar to her. Yes, the rat-man. Faruja. He /claimed/ not to be a Christian but she still has very serious doubts and a sneaking suspicion he would happily burn her at the stake. Still, he is friends with some of those she knows. She doesn't make any hostile movements besides the hand on her knife. She strung tight, wary. Inga encourages the burning of the undead, but the Inquisitor's words struck a chord with her, a ferocity lighting in her eyes. She doesn't even really know the people left here, but she'd protect them. 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     Another hand on Inga's shoulder as he senses her prickle, and the wizard murmurs. "Hold steady, Inga... I know this one."     The wizard waves his staff a bit, and calls out. "Ahoy, Padre. You might want to calm it down a bit over there, you're scaring the locals. Well... the ones that are still local... ish." Another squeeze at Inga's shoulder, before he subtly puts himself forward, scratching at his beard. "Not that I disapprove of the methods, just... the enthusiasim." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Someone is coming up the road from the shore. He isn't shambling, which is immediately a point in his favor. Wuyin is a mess. His jeans are soaked up to the knee, and the sleeves of his button-up shirt -- plaid, ill-fitting and clearly second-hand -- are stained dark with what must be blood and fluids. It's missing a couple buttons up the front, and there are a pair of long cuts along the chest that are similarly stained. The 3D glasses are, of course, ever-present. He's carrying two oddities: a bloody hatchet, and a burlap sack with a stain that matches that on his arms. It appears to have something inside of it. He's walking at a steady pace, going up the sidewalk until he reaches the curb next to the bone fence. He stops, looking at the group. "Don't burn the ones on the southern strand near where you find them," Wuyin says. "Friendly advice." 

:'''{{#var:152|Faruja (152)}} has posed:''' "Oh /COME/ now, Ser Dresden! Couldst ye really expect a proper Inquisitor, be they of subtle mind or more...open with their passions to truly leave aught but dust in the wake of the great plague before us? Why..." BLAM! One of the downed, burning undead is reduced to pulp by the bunny woman. Faruja looks at his armored, now quite messy feet then back to Strawberry. The bunny woman pouts. "It was still twitching!" Faruja rolls his eye. "...Right. Gentle with the locals. Why...ahhh, I know that face! I believe we met once, M'Lady. Ser Dresden, dear Lady, I assure thee we hath come for naught more than the undead. /However/, I admit, with mine good compatriot quitting us and ammunition and aman alike low, mayhaps ye two wouldst be so kind as to offer us a bit of rest? I gather the undead hardly care how pious one may be." Both hands open to the burning bodies, as if he's quite proud of the combined work. "Besides, I hath been meaning to call upon ye Ser Dresden. I hath a small consulting matter that mine dear Acolyte Strawberry here..." The bunny woman giggles /far/ too cheerily, and waves while bouncing on her toes merrily. "Hath need of. Lest she blow another hole in mine office's wall. /Again/." The bunny pouts. Faruja sighs. "Peace, Lady...Inga, if I recall? Ye hath it before the Holy Prophet that I shan't harm thee, or any local not connected with.../this/." A hand waved towards the undead bodies. Then, enter Wuyin. Strawberry gives another enthusiastic wave. "Hiiii, good traveller! God's blessings, may He watch after you!" Faruja smiles. "Truly? Ye seem most righteously accounting for thineself! Mine thanks for the advice! Art there more effective elements? Or merely cold steel to be used? Inquisitor Faruja Senra of the Most Holy Church of Saint Ajora Glabados, and mine Acolyte, Strawberry of the Viera." Introductions all around. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' "I don't give a god good damn what you people do to the undead here out in the zombie-infested hellhole that Kingsmouth has become." Stepping out of the second floor of the Fire Department is Riva, laconic in her swaying step as she leans over onto the stair railing and looking down at the assembled. "But remember. This world doesn't know anything about magic, and they haven't had Inquisitors since the Middle Ages. So have fun, go blow up corpses all day, but no collateral damage unless it's necessary, and look at the map up here to keep an eye on where the locals are bunkered up. Don't expect them to react well to non-humans here. We don't have any of those here either." Riva vaults off the edge and hits the ground in a crouch, walking over to join the others. "Nice to see you all. We've got a nice party going, now." She seems to relax a bit and smile. "I'm glad you're all here. The sooner we can find the source of this and put an end to it, the better it'll be in my book." She looks over to Faruja. "They're not particualrly resiliant or susceptible to anything that I can tell. Holy power, fire, lasers, missiles, plasma, guns, swords, whatever. It all kills them the same. The bigger ones, however, take more effort. Even your friend Strawberry there might need to stay quick on her feet to not get clobbered by a Draugr Warleader." Rive just holds up a hand. "But let me summarize my guidelines. One: Kill all sons of bitches. Two: Don't spook the locals. They've got it hard enough. Past that, it's more or less open season on the undead and horrors crawling out of everywhere around here." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga bristles. "I am /not/ scared," she says quietly, but the hand on her shoulder steadies her. She looks up toward Dresden, nodding. "Yes, I have met him as well," she comments before turning her full attention back to Faruja. Her? Local? That's really stretching it. Inga leans on her staff and moves forward as well, not about to look like she's cowering. Inga bows her head in greeting to Faruja. "Sir Faruja," she greets, remembering him well. She glances at the...bunny woman!? Nodding to her as well after a moment's hesitation causes by her surprise. Is there no end to people crossed with cute fuzzy animals!? As she watches the woman bounce and Faruja briefly explains the situation, Inga wonders who she dislikes more--zealots or perky zealots. Perky zealots named /Strawberry/. "Yes, you should come within the bone fence. It is safe inside," she assures Faruja and company, before turning as she senses Wuyin approaching. "Wuyin, you look terrible," she comments, frowning as she turns toward him. He's alive however and nothing is attacking him--which essentially means he'll be fine. She wrinkles her nose a bit as his approach. "Clean clothes for you," she informs him. Inga glances up to Harry again and shrugs her shoulders before leading them in through the bone fence, briefly checking a few of her runes, empowering them with a burst of anima before she moves inside, at which point Riva joins them! Inga smiles warmly to Riva. "Hail shield-maiden," she greets, her tone friendly; it's a nick name now as well as a title. Inga waves a hand to confirm Riva's rules. "Tch, indeed. We welcome any help with these creatures. You kill them, but more come out of the fog every day," she sighs. 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     Harry sighs a bit, and waves up at Riva. "Inga told me she was coming back here, so, I figured I'd tag along. Hey." A grin, before he looks over at the beat up man in the 3D specs, and... and shakes his head. "Jeez man, you look like crap. You need anything?" He ducks under the bone fence, before lookin around for first aid or something similar. "No sense in getting an infection, even if people are stupid resiliant around here."     Faruja gets a LOOK, and a sigh. "Consulting now? Who told you I was back in that business? I mean... not that I mind, it's just... funny, you know? Getting so much attention on that lately." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' "Which god?" Wuyin asks, apparently offhand. He looks down at himself for a second. When he looks back up, he does it over the tops of the 3D glasses and shrugs some. "Most of it isn't mine," he explains. He tilts his head a little towards Faruja, and then nods at Riva instead. "What she said. They are not especially vulnerable to anything; the ones on the strand, however, burn blue, just like their ritual fires." He drops the bag next to the fence. It squishes a little. Wuyin joins them within the bounds of the barricade. "My name is Wuyin. You may call me Wu if you prefer." He smiles a little in Inga's direction, undoing the remaining buttons and pulling the button-down off. He's got a black tee underneath. He swings it around his hand, letting it ball up, and then tosses it onto one of the burning heaps of zombie. It tinges an eerie blue for just a moment. "I didn't want to ruin my own clothes doing something messy." "I could use a drink," he asides to Dresden, "and maybe a seat." Wu starts towards the exterior stairs to the second floor. "Please listen to the Templar on the matter of subtlety -- at least, in this /particular/ regard. Most of our world is simply not ready to know what it is we must hide from their eyes." 

:'''{{#var:152|Faruja (152)}} has posed:''' Faruja scowls, though not a murderous one thankfully. No, Faruja is giving a Templar the 'upset Priest' look. "WATCH THINE BLOODY LANGUAGE TEMPLAR BENARI LEST YE FIND THINESELF IN ONE OF IVALICE'S SOUP KITCHENS FOR A WEEK!" He coughs. The look passes, and finally the usual look of respect returns. "...However, 'tis hardly mine intention to go Witch hunting here. Hardly diplomatic. Inquisitor Caecillia on the other hand?" Faruja shrugs. "Enough problems in Ivalice to distract her before she goes and causes me /more/ bloody paperwork. Lord's blessings, Most Righteous and Holy Temple Knight." Smile! "I shall be the /picture/ of restraint. Nay, methinks the people here art in need of kind words and succor. Faram is /loving/, even if we must at times be his blade! Doth not equate us with that pack of incompetents from the various 'Earth's!" Faruja hmph's while swaying his tail in irritation. Seems he holds his own Inquisition above various other world's quite strongly. Still, the rat nods. "I assure ye, I hath nay intention of seeing any of mine Acolytes dead by these abominations Dame Banari. Friends and family they art. Mine thanks, my dear! I shall take these guidelines to heart." Inga gets a crossing of the chest...whether against her, or for her benefit might be up to debate. Strawberry hums a jaunty tune as she reloads her shotgun as the pair join those heading towards the Fire station. Every now and then, the vieran woman sees fit to finish off a twitching undead. Faruja raises a brow as they finally pass, and Inga's magic takes effect. "Mmm? Art these thine work, M'Lady Inga? Not mine forte, but...wards against the undead? /Curious/." States the rat vaguely, and he can't help but peer at Inga with renewed interest. And wariness at the same time. "I thank thee for thine hospitality." At least he's polite, unlike his companion that left. As for Harry? The Wizard gets a smile. "Ye art a master of the arcane, and from what I hath researched, one willing to risk ridicule in a world ignorant to the ways of thine craft. Surely sharing and cultivating such a Divine craft as magery from another world wouldst be most curious to thee? And of course, the Church rewards those whom assist us most generously, even in these times of war. Well? Care to hear me out when we art all safe?" Another winning, bright smile. He might have picked it up from the bunny woman. As for attention? "Ye hath something of a reputation as a wise and skilled man, Ser Dresden. 'Tis any wonder now that the Multiverse brushes at thine doorstep?" "The ALMIGHTY good Ser! HE is known by many names! Faram! Allah! Yahweh! /God/! The single source of all that is, and shall ever be, excepting these twisted, fallen mockeries that spring forth from mortal Sin and the arrogance of the Fallen!" Comes Faruja to Wuyin. "Well met, Ser Wuyin! Ye all hath /naught/ to worry about." What could possibly go wrong, with a bunch of medieval, magical zealots i a place full of the undead. Faruja speaks to the group as a whole. "If this fog seems to be their entrypoint, methinks it likely there is some root cause. Knowing how loving the Multiverse is of throwing seemingly insurmountable problems about? Well. We must find the proverbial snake's head to cut free lest this curse spring eternal?" He glances at INga and Riva in particular here, as they seem to be locals. Wuyin gets a nod. "Tea, for mineself and Acolyte Strawberry. Or wine, if ye possess such luxuries and 'tis nay intrusion." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' "Hello, wisewoman Inga." Riva replies to her in amusement. It's become something of a game indeed. Riva waves to Harry. "Glad you could make it. After ficing that thing in Chicago, you'll probably be /really/ familiar some of the fun stuff over here." The Templaress does manage to look contrite at Faruja's admonishment, however, and she bows, replying. "Please forgive mine coarse tongue, Milord. I will discipline it forthwith." She straightens, having a slight smile on her face. "Though let's get upstairs and continue this." She helps usher everyone upstairs, where there's a modern kitchen in the first room, and a mostly clean living room-style area in the other. You can hardly tell the place was full of zombie firefighters a while ago. Riva flops down on the clouch and gestures to a wall that has some things pinned and scribbled on it. "So that's our current information for this area. we haven't even /started/ on the rest of the island, just the local area. There are locations marked with where the locals tend to hang out." "The fog, huh." Riva asks. "Well, maybe there's some way to find out what's up with it, but God knows how we could do that. No one, and I mean /no one/ who's gone in there has come out." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to Dresden. "Don't worry, I will take care of Wuyin," she assures him. "He probably doesn't even need it," she adds with a small smile to Wuyin, she promptly throws off his outer shirt and tosses it onto a flaming pile of corpses like its something he does every day. Sadly, that might be true. "I know we think we do not get infected, but I will take a look regardless," she says, then motions for him to go upstairs. "Yes, why don't we go inside where we can sit down. We have provisions upstairs," she comments. Great, steps after a long walk. Just what she wanted! Inga glances to the bag Wuyin plopped down, observing the squish. "Er...?" she inquires wordlessly to his back as he moves up to the second floor. Inga turns back toward Faruja as soon as he says 'witch hunt', her back stiffening, her frown deepening. Tch, and he yelled at Riva! Faruja is not ingratiating himself on Inga very well today, that is for certain. The name Inquisitor Cecilia is filed away in her memory. To think, she hadn't even been given an opportunity to curse anyone yet! Inga may have found someone deserving. Faruja perhaps is trying to make up for earlier behavior with his almost compliment on Inga's fence. She nods, answering in the affirmative, a note of pride in her voice. "Yes they are. They keep out hostile forces. I'm afraid the undead are only the beginning in this place," she informs him. "I am hoping to add a bit on offenses kick to them soon." Then the rat templar appears to be trying to recruit Harry. A look of /pure horror/ passes over her features before she can school them back into something approaching nuetrality. Inga turns and begins up the stairs, leaning heavily on the rail with one hand, her staff in the other. Once she reaches the top, she begins to give Wuyin a quick examination. She may be a hair rougher than necessary while trying to tune out Faruja; 'Blah blah blah god, blah blah blah Christian stuff, blah blah burn the heathens, blah' is what she hears. "There is ale, tea, coffee...I brought the ale from Dun Realtai. It's excellent," she adds. On the board with their notes are scrawled the visions she's had while here--many of which Riva and Wuyin have shared. Clues, if only they can interpret them. 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     Dresden sighs a bit as things keep happening around him that... he wants to stick his nose in but is resisting the urge, really he is. Wuyin is handled, and he waves in return. "Harry Dresden. Wizard. Wizard detective." He peeks curiously at the bag though, and grumps. "Samples, I suppose."     He ignores Faruja for the moment though as he shuffles over to the bag, and pokes it open with the steel bits at the bottom of his staff. 

:'''{{#var:152|Faruja (152)}} has posed:''' Riva shows proper humility, and it's returned with a similar bow. Faruja reaches into his robes, and pulls out a small vial. Uncorking it, he splashes a tiny amount of it upon the hair of poor Riva. "In the name of the Holy Prophet Saint Ajora, and the Holy Father, ye art forgiven My Child!" If Faruja notices Inga's frown and reaction? He's not making any point of it. Strawberry, for her part, is all smiles towards Inga. Bunny ears bounce. Way too perky, this one. "Send them all to the Abyss." Agrees the rat with Inga, perhaps some attempt to find common ground in their hatred of the unliving. Faruja can think of few religious creeds that like the creatures. Inga gets at first a bow, then there's a feeling of magic as she struggles up the stairs seemingly. He casts a Float spell on her. She might feel lighter, if it takes, floating an inch above the ground. Who said he can't be nice? Harry doesn't seem to give Viera or Nezumi any insult, though the good viera speaks up. "BEEEEEEERRRRR! Beer, beer, beeeeeer! Please, Miss Inga!" Bounce bounce bounce! Like a child, this one. 

:'''{{#var:152|Faruja (152)}} has posed:''' Faruja, meanwhile, peers in to examine Riva's board. It might take him a bit, having one natural eye makes reading big bulletin boards somewhat difficult. 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Riva getting admonished by a one-eyed rat is one of the funniest things Wuyin has yet to observe around here. "Ah, Him," Wu replies, nodding slightly on his way up. "There is mounting evidence that Gaia is the source of our world, but then the question becomes, from whence did Gaia herself come? /They/ know," he asides, "but they aren't telling." He casts a glance back at Faruja as he opens the door. "We could hardly ask for better company in expunging evil from the land, though." There's a little smile in there. Wuyin goes over and gets a bottle of water before anything else. He watches people come in and spread out. "I've heard of you," he remarks to Dresden. "Good things, aside from the property damage. You'd be right, though. I'm wondering if there's an extra element to the dead cultists that we can discern. Maybe the black liquid..." He frowns, suddenly troubled. There's a sharp shake of his head. He lets Inga do her thing, clearing his throat slightly when she's a /little/ too rough. There's a rapidly-healing cut along his chest, but it's shallow. Nothing looks terribly amiss. 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     "Not my fault." That seems to be an immediate response to the words 'property damage'. Dresden snorts a bit, kneeling down and pulling out a vial and a quartz crystal and a... uh, it's an extendable fork. This gets poked into the goop, as Harry fishes around in it a bit. "Well, this is definately Black Stuff, 100 percent confirmed, case dismissed."     Seriously though, he snorts and murmurs. "Where did this come from?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga suddenly feels magic aimed in her direction, confusion filling her. Which only grows as she begins to /float/ up the stairs. The woman's eyes look ready to pop out of her head. She looks toward Faruja, knowing him to be the source of the magic. She swallows hard. "Ah...thank you Sir Faruja," she chokes out. That was unnerving. Helpful, but unnerving. When Faruja begins absolving Riva of her sins right there, Inga feels like she's going to sick up her lunch. Calm Inga, stay calm, don't engage in a fight over Riva's soul... Inga looks back to Wuyin, frowning. "From the gods of course. Gaia must be one of the guises of Freyja, surely," she replies. "The Buzzing are their messengers--like the spirit of volvas, they see the pattern of wyrd." Inga examines the wound on Wuyin's chest without flinching or looking uncomfortable. Apparently, when she's working she's not so easily ruffled by physical contact. "No infection," she confirms. The wound is already closing. She ceases manhandling him, looking vaguely sheepish. She shoots him an appologetic look before turning. Back to Faruja and Strawberry, she blinks. "Ah...very well," she says, then moves to open the ale and pour a few cups. The cups are red and plastic. She hands them out before pouring one for herself. For a moment she grins at Harry's confirmation that it is Black Stuff. "Is the Black Stuff related to Things?" she asks glibly. Then sobers once more, sighing as she eases herself into a seat. "The black stuff...you must be very careful with it. It infects--and it would seem there is a force behind it. It either is a being or can leave one open to the manipulations of a being. Staren can confirm this," she adds. "As for where it comes from, we do not know. Does it have to do with the fog? We've been through the immediate area a good bit, but this town has many hidden secrets, not all so easy to uncover," she explains, pointing to the board. "You will see here some of the visions we have had. What the Buzzing has told us. There is one that seems to suggest this...disease... was spread by the seagulls. But it's source? I don't know." 

:'''{{#var:152|Faruja (152)}} has posed:''' Inga's initial thanks get a nod. "Quite welcome, M'Lady." Twitch. Faruja's brow wobbles at Wu's words. Inga adds fuel to the fire. Before any sermons explode? The viera hefts first shotgun across her back, and then much smaller Inquisitor across her shoulder like a sack of potatos. Cue much wiggling and writhing before the stronger Acolyte wins out, and he just slumps tiredly. Purging is hard work. "I think a debate of world-origin stories wouldn't help morale here." Responds Strawberry in Faruja's stead, winking to the others and Inga in particular. People around might hear Faruja muttering about heathens, though. The rat-man is then sat down beside Strawberry as she finds a decently comfy seat. Reaching over with easy familiarity, she starts rubbing one of Faruja's ears, and all that simmering agression falls away. The Inquisitor manages to open one eye, even as Strawberry's free hand devours the offered ale. Faruja's not far behind, downing it with all the gusto of a well-acquainted drink lover. "Hath anyone attempted...Faram preserve us...magical or technological means of seeing into either the Fog, or this so-called 'Black Stuff'? Well. If 'tis Ser Staren, I shouldst be surprise if he hath not already done so, or is in the process of such." There's a fond laugh from the rat. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva's not entirely sure that her soul isn't in hock to bees at this point, let alone Christian or Nordic deities. "Staren has a sample, it's being researched back at the Union HQ." Riva says. "I'm sure it will be just fine." Somewhere, someone pushes a marker along a Doom Counter. "So if we're going to review what's going on here, let's think about this. What started all of this? What happened to cause the fog and the zombies? Something like this can't happen out of nowhere." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' The bag is full of severed zombie parts. Harry can extract goop from them, which is two parts burned flesh, two parts disgusting whaddayacallits, and one part Black Stuff. It is... not quite right. He might find it offensive to his wizard senses in the same way that a ruptured septic tank is to everyone else's. There's power there, though... "Mm." Wuyin gives Inga a largely meaningless look when she says that, well, of /course/ the gods are behind it. It's his way of disengaging from this course of discussion. He doesn't mind jabbing the rat-zealot, but he kind of likes Inga, and she doesn't seem to have any problem stabbing people besides. "I'm uncertain if the Fog has had any delving done to it -- visitors have been wise enough to heed our warnings, by and large. Staren has, I assume, looked into the 'Black Stuff' in a technological sense." He looks between the Unionites present. "Has he presented any findings to the Union yet? It's been a while." Wu finds a chair and plants himself n it. "Good question," he murmurs. "The Lady Margaret is somehow connected, but I don't think any of us have gone to inspect the ship just yet." 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     Harry's face screws up a bit, and he growls at the Black Stuff. Like, actually growls when he sees it, a visceral reaction to something Wrong, Very Wrong. Then he retches a little, coughing. "Hells bells, it's like... something crawled the wrong way through the Nevernever and then took a trip thorugh Satan's asshole and... hnngf."     He's still poking at the stuff with his fork. "Ugh. Staren might have been tempted to Look at this... but you'd have to pay me a lot of favors to peek at this thing with my Sight. No thanks, I'm getting enough right now."     The wizard twirls his fork in the mess, trying to pluck up a glob of it to move to one of his vials. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Watching Faruja get tossed up like a sack of vegetables by a bunny woman does way more to make her feel better than it really should. Her lips thin as she tries not to laugh. Strawberry sets him down and starts rubbing his ears like he were a pet to soothe. This is both hilarious and more than a bit awkward to watch. Inga's cheeks color slightly. They must be involved, she concludes. At least they know how to drink ale. "I know Blur at least has sent...I don't remember what he called them. Little familiars? Out into the fog. I do not think they came back. I have attempted to scry, sending my mind's eye outward, but there is a sort of psychic backlash that prevents me from seeing--it is quite painful," she assures. Inga sips her ale again, turning her gaze to Riva. "Ah, good. I hope something comes of that," she replies. "Perhaps I should examine the stuff myself," she says, scooting toward Harry to watch him poke it with a fork. She sees him shudder, and nods. "Vile, isn't it? When Staren was infected with it, he apparently spoke with a...Man," she informs him. Could she be infected by Black Stuff? She hadn't been yet, and she'd been in contact with plenty of the nasties around Kingsmouth. Inga reaches out to help Harry take the sample. "I don't think I can be infected by it, and I know yu don't want to be." To Wuyin, she nods. "That should perhaps be our next step. That is when it seems to have begun. Have you located the ship?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:152|Faruja (152)}} has posed:''' Wuyin's question gets a shrug. "I hath not seen any such reports, however, I admit this land hath only recently caught mine attention amonst the many other issues within the Multiverse." Admits Faruja between beer swigging and getting ear-rubbed. The bunny and rat might appear like family right about now. It wouldn't be far off. Strawberry speaks here, "'Drones', Miss Inga, probably! Little flying machines?" Seems the bunny, unlike her compatriot, has a grasp on technology. Faruja blanches a bit at Harry's description. But he can't find it in himself to protest. His own senses have him feeling green enough to where he's chewing on some form of herb to not lose his lunch. "Pretty horrible stuff then. No magic, no tech. Best to stay clear then. What's this ship? Some kinda cult, maybe, aboard and started this all? Or some crazy 'science-tist'? Lots of stupid Heretics out there in the Multiverse that like to doom worlds." Notes Strawberry. Faruja gives several nods. Soon though, he's snoring against the viera. 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva looks concerned at Harry working with the samples, but she says nothing. She trusts Harry knows what he's doing. She might be a little optimistically naive. Riva squints at the ear rubbing thing and thinks for a moment. The opportunity comes when someone asks about the Lady Margaret. "Oh, yeah, Ainsley found it." She's watching Faruja as she says this. "It's out on the pier, apparently totally wrecked." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Harry can pretty easily get a sample into a container. It's a little bit oily, and kind of sticky, or... maybe mercurial? It's very difficult to categorize it. It's definitely liquid, though, and /mostly/ behaves like one. "It would be helpful to know what it looks like in the eye of those with a more penetrating gaze," Wuyin observes, looking sidelong at Dresden, "but I will understand if you do not think you can stomach the experience." He reaches up and pulls off his glasses, folding them up and tucking them away. "The Lady Margaret is a fishing trawler," Wuyin replies. "No cultists as far as I can tell. The harbormaster's manifest says that it came to port just before the Fog arrived. It's at the bottom of that hill," he says, nodding towards the water, "surrounded by Draug. It will take an effort to get there -- or someone with something more subtle than Inga's obfuscations." Wuyin looks up and over at Inga. "Staren was infected? What did he see? Who did he speak with?" 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     ...Hells bells.     Harry grumps and smiles at Inga as she helps him, before settling into a seated position on the floor of the fire department's parking lot, just outside the bone fence. No sense in doing this inside their safe zone if he messes something up.     "Fine fine... just. Inga, knock me in the head if I start scaring you." A look at Wuyin, a glare, and he grumbles. "It'll cost you dinner. A nice dinner."     He sighs, settles in... holds up the vial...     And /looks/ at it. 

:'''{{#var:152|Faruja (152)}} has posed:''' Two ears perk. Faruja's head lifts. "My, my, my. Look at that, dear Acolyte. We hath a /job/. Quill me in, Berri." The grin he gives is pure pride at Ainsley's discovery. Thud! The rat's then sleeping, curled up against the viera. For her part, she chuckles. "Let's see.../ahem/...'For the Glory of Faram, we shall delve into this mystery, and seek out the heads of the knaves and Heretics responsible'! Or something like that." She ruffles the sleeping Inquisitor. But the cheerful bunny woman does look at Harry intensely. Quietly, she grabs her own cross, rare seriousness and a lot of concern on her features. A little shake of the head. Clearly, one Acolyte Strawberry thinks this is a horrible idea. Maybe she's paranoid. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods to Strawberry. "Yes, that's it," she confirms. She's about to say something to Faruja when he complains about Heretics, but before she gets the chance, he appears to have fallen asleep! Well, if ever he's trying to burn her, hopefully she'll have access to his ears. "Well then," she says, and looks back to the others. "Ainsley has found it? Did she learn anything?" she asks. Back to Wuyin, she raises a brow. "My charms are plenty subtle. I must figure out how to mask scent as well...alternatively, we can just go in with enough power to force our way in. Fire is apparently quite effective and I know at least two people in this room proficient with its application," she replies, glancing to Dresden then Faruja. "I have been learning a bit of this elemental magic myself," she adds. As for Staren..."He spoke with someone named John. Had nightmares, then seemed to hallucinate. I caught just a glimpse of it last I saw him--think I said something that spooked him," she observes with a small frown. Inga is quiet for a moment, thoughtful. "I can attempt to handle the black stuff and open myself--" but Harry is ahead of her. She frowns, obviously worried, though a brow lifts when he asks her to hit him over the head if her starts scaring her. Tch! All the same, she takes up her staff and follows, standing nearby. She /supposes/ she can share the horrifying visions. So there she stands, looking distinctly worried for him, but at the same time oddly ready to crack him over the head with a stick. Really though, she doesn't think she'll need it! 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Wuyin folds his arms across his chest, frowning down at the ground. He looks deep in thought. "Hmm... that is..." He trails off. 'Troubling' does not begin to describe it, so he doesn't say it. He has a few immediate theories, but does not deign to share them with the class. Dresden opens up his Sight. It isn't the sample he sees first. It's the Fog. The haze that has settled over the town writhes to his Sight. He isn't even looking directly at the obvious banks of it -- he's seeing the thin haze that filters down from above, and it looks to him like a thousand thousand tiny, smoky tendrils, all of them reaching out and creeping towards the Earth. He sees it caress the streets and the houses with a lover's touch, slow and gentle, leaving the ground it brushes against writhing in clear agony. Pillars of smoke seem to have descended from the skies, slow, pulsating towers falling from the eternal haze -- towers that are made of the same tendrils, twisted around one another and seeking.... /something/. He would have to look closer to See what it was. This sight alone is unsettling, carrying with it a sense of pressure and growing depravity and the claustrophobic feeling of something /watching/. Does he risk looking up? Does he dare to turn his eyes to the clouded sky? But this is not what he sought. The sample -- the tiny little glob of blackness -- is growing. It spreads in his Sight, encrusting the vial and bursting into a mass of blackness like a pot of ink exploding underwater. The edges are ragged, splitting and growing, oily tentacles of clearly unnatural origin getting more and more expansive. It seems to /open/, the center splitting into a hundred eyes and a thousand mouths. hsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss He can see inside of it. Through it. Does it lead somewhere? It seems to. There's a blackness inside the blackness, an inner darkness that comes from somewhere outside. Flecks of light are scattered throughout, barely perceptible -- and the more he looks, the closer he looks, the more easily he can see it. Throughout it all, that pressure grows -- but it isn't just from the Fog. It's a second one, a stranger feeling. One sense grows to be... almost pleasant. Subtle. Lovely. A gentle caress and a lover's touch. ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss The other wants your eyes. ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss It starts like thumbs pressed against the temples, hands settled around the forehead, wrapped and squeezing. It grows, and the fingers prod at places it could not. It presses for his eyes, his ears, his mouth, an invisible /thing/ trying to intrude in a wholly vile fashion. It is a sound and sight at once; a feeling, a sensation, all these things and more. It tries to hold his third eye open, to flow into the invisible eye like a caustic drip. It is anathemic to the life and power he so commands, the things he has built his life around. It is not darkness, but it is /Else/, it is /Other/, it /Should Not Be/ and yet here it is. letmein It is about this time that Harry Dresden probably closes that eye and flees from his Sight. Any man who possessed of an ounce of sanity would. Does he? 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     Dresden's mouth in the real world opens in a utterly captivated reaction, a rushing sigh of... of something.     There's a problem for the Filth though. There's something cold deep inside of Dresden, that prickles and chills and crisps, that licks at the tendrils from the inside, that licks chilly kisses back at the Thoughts, and hisses deeply at the invasion. That little touch of purest cold at his heart. That thread. A brand.             MAB     Mentally though, Harry is struggling to cut off that Sight, pushing at the invasion, shoving psychically at it, and is unable to stop it entirely not as quickly as it came.     And then there's a sucking breath of air in the real world, and Harry Dresden lets out a sobbing breath. He throws the vial as hard as he possibly can, whips out his blasting rod and screams, begs. "FUEGO!" A gout of flame shoots out at the Glob of Filth, and the Wizard shakes. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga comes very close to cracking him over the head with her staff, as instructed. She's not scared /of/ him, but she's certainly scared for him and fully prepared to give him a physical shock to knock him out of the trance state. It might work. She's just about to swing her staff when he moves, throwing the vial and shouting his incantation to set it aflame. She doesn't hit him. Inga bends down to her knees and instead puts her hands on his shoulders gently. It seems like the right thing to do. She doesn't know how his Sight compares to hers, but a line back to the physical world always helps her come back. "Harry?" 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva watches the proceedings with keen interest. And then she sees Harry get completely knocked on his ass. "Oh hell!" She says, leaping up and joining Inga in kneeling nect to Harry. "Hey Harry! Hey! You okay?" She asks, not really expecting him to be able to do complex things like 'form coherent sentences' or 'self-diagnose', but trying to establish some kind of contact regardless. Look at it this way, Harry. At least you have two pretty ladies concerned for your health, right? 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Wuyin, who is entirely responsible for egging Dresden on, is leaning on the rail at the top of the stairs. He doesn't intend to get any closer. He doesn't /appear/ to be laughing at him. Maybe he has empathy for his plight. More likely, it's just on the inside. The sample of Filth is summarily annihilated. Magical fire works wonders sometimes. 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     Harry is shaking under Inga's touch, and quickly rips the crystal radio out of his ear, slapping it again the concrete and smashing at it with his staff. He sucks air through his teeth, cold, so cold inside, fingers gripping to the staff and rod like they were liferopes.     "...no... I am not..." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga doesn't even take the time to think about it, because if she thinks about it she will start to quietly freak out inside. So Inga just leans into him and wraps her arms around him from behind. Had he been infected? She's sure he didn't touch it, but a more detailed examination would likely be needed--later. "It is alright. You will be," she says quietly, just holding on and waiting for him to do something or relax. Maybe this isn't working!? Maybe she should have hit him with the stick!? 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     He's still shaking, quite hard now, even as Inga hugs him. He's also chattering. "Stupid that was stupid that shit is from Outside, it's got to be, there's no way that's from here that's ffnnngg Wuyin you asshole that's more than dinner that fffff." 

:'''{{#var:495|Riva Banari (495)}} has posed:''' Riva gets a pondering expression for a moment when she sees Inga hug Harry, but she sits down next to Harry, trying to be supportive. "Just relax. We're here for you, Harry, just take your time and sort through it." 

:'''{{#var:515|Wuyin Tsai (515)}} has posed:''' Wuyin produces a blanket. It looks like the kind of warm, fuzzy blanket you might see given to people who are in shock. He lightly tosses it to Inga for Dresden's sake, but does not go down there. "To be honest, I didn't expect you to actually do it," he replies. Wuyin thinks about it a minute. "Would you like a comfort taco?" 

:'''{{#var:206|Harry Dresden (206)}} has posed:'''     "A taco isn't dinner asshole."     Harry snorts though, and grumbles. "You just met me that's not how I roll. Stupid is as stupid does." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' From Outside. Weren't they just talking about things like this earlier? Been quite a day, hasn't it. "Yes...that makes sense," she says to herself, not letting go until he stops shaking or tells her to. She has absolutely no idea why he smashed his radio. Inga is not expecting the blanket, and is half afraid if she lets go he might go berserk or something--so, it just falls over her head. "....." Inga throws her head back to shake it off her head then glares daggers up at Wuyin. Her eyes ask 'do you want to be cursed?' because he may be immortal, but that just means he can have nasty skin boils and perhaps speak everything backwards /forever/. "You and your tacos," she grumbles. "I almost did the very same thing," she tells Harry. "If it is stupid, than I suppose I am too." She's still thinking about it! Also Riva is giving her some kind of look! "We should go inside. We're outside the fence--you'll feel better once inside--the protective magics," she suggests, letting her arms slide down. 

}}

Inga

2014-10-08T00:59:05Z

Inga: Created page with "{{CharacterNew |NameOnMUSH=Inga |Color=#0099FF |Char_id=525 |Img= |FullName=Inga Freyasdottir |Gender=Female |Species=Human |Theme=The Secret World |Chartype=OC |Function=Witc..."

{{CharacterNew
|NameOnMUSH=Inga
|Color=#0099FF
|Char_id=525
|Img=
|FullName=Inga Freyasdottir
|Gender=Female
|Species=Human
|Theme=The Secret World
|Chartype=OC
|Function=Witch, Prophetess, Healer
|Faction=Syndicate
|Rank=6-Recruit
|Ranktype=Ally
|Groups=
|Quote="Why yes, I can cure that rash you have. Here, drink this--wait, no! Not that one. That's bone dust from plague victims. This one--this is certainly the one."
|PAge=20
|AAge=20
|Aging=Unknown
|Height=5'0
|Weight=*eyenarrow*
|Hair=White
|Eyes=Hazel
|Voice=
|Song= The Witch's Aria https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2_gytAGnW8
|Profile=Out of the dark ages of human history, Inga was chosen by The Buzzing. As linear time is generally considered “cute” by the Buzzing, the Bees apparently saw nothing wrong with choosing someone from a drastically different time to drink of their wisdom. Before being transported to Agartha and onward, Inga was a local cunning woman (a witch) and known prophetess, taught many mysteries by the local pagan priesthood. She is from a radically different time and finds herself confounded by technology, social change, and her new-found powers. As a learned and gifted woman of the time, Inga is accustomed to a certain degree of respect and fear. She is however, relatively friendly and helpful. Despite a skewed morality for the time, she believes herself to be a good person and aims to be helpful to the community.
|Powers=GAIAN ANTIBODY: Inga has been empowered by The Buzzing, a sapient techno-organic hive-mind that simultaneously resides both within the boughs of the World Tree and outside linear time and space altogether. As a result, Inga has been made into something more than human, putting Inga in excellent physical condition, allowing her to recover from non-mortal, non-maiming wounds in anywhere from moments to minutes, and granting an exceptional resistance to pathogens and poisons, especially the supernatural kind. Should she be killed, The Buzzing removes her Anima form (functionally her soul) from herbody and returns it to the nearest Anima Well or similar point of natural power (ley line nexus, druids grove, etc) where she may recorporate in a new body or locate and regenerate her dead one. While in Anima form, Inga is vulnerable to any effects that specifically target incorporeal spirits, and while they can view the physical world, they cannot interact with it except in the case of specific special objects or entities.

THE BUZZING: As a direct result of being empowered by one of their number, Inga has access to the collective knowledge of The Buzzing, a hive-mind that collects information from all of space and time. Inga generally gets random broadcasts in her mind from The Buzzing, usually explaining background information about the area or whatever horrible thing shes dealing with. It can be great for picking up context and figuring out just HOW things got this bad, but it has its drawbacks, including being rarely straightforward and somewhat random in timing and content. Even if it's related to the area or phenomenon she is dealing with, it won't always be obvious. (See +info Inga/The_Buzzing for more information.)

ANIMA WIELDER: In addition to secret knowledge and the ability to recover from even death, Ingas empowerment grants her the ability to control Anima, a source of magical power that flows directly from Gaia. Through the use of either a weapon or a talisman, Anima can be used to enhance Ingas capabilities and grant new abilities entirely. This power is channeled through weapons or magical devices as foci to create various offensive effects, while it is used in worn talismans of various types in order to make them stronger and tougher than any normal human. Anima may be used (primarily offensively) without a focus, but the unfocused release often proves dangerous to more than just the wielders foes. (See +info Inga/Anima for more info.)

WORLD-TREE CACHE: An Anima Wielder, connected to Agartha as they are, is able to exploit that connection in another way: They can open a tiny channel to a space in the great world tree, and store items there. This can happen functionally anywhere, as Agartha touches all places and times. The space is not very large, but its large enough to hold a couple hundred items (RPG rules about stacks apply). The storage is also not entirely secure. While no one has ever reported finding anothers cache, some Anima Wielders find that their stuff is rearranged, or an item or two might be missing Or there might be a mysterious glob of honey where there wasnt one before.
|Skills=PROPHECY: Visions, dreams, omens, divination...Inga has many ways in which she gains insight into the working of the world, including the future. Fate however, is never set in stone. The prophecies are a possible future. Often these visions can sometimes be interpreted as hearing The Buzzing. (Consent of players applies)

HERBOLOGY: Inga has been trained in the proper use of many herbs for both medical and magical purposes.

MYTHOLOGY AND FOLKLORE: As a trained priestess and prophetess, Inga has extensive knowledge of the mythology and folklore of her people.

CHARMS AND ENCHANTMENTS: Inga is versed in many charms and enchantments using runes and staves, plants, and talismans. These are most often used for protection; making armor stronger, making its wearing quicker. Can also be used to make blades sharper, grant magical sight (such as to see the spiritual). In her time, she also made many a fertility charm and charms to protect women in childbirth, etc. Charms and enchantments generally take time and work, the more powerful the charm the more time and work it takes to make. These things also usually require payment or a sacrifice of some kind (in her time, often animal sacrifices).

CURSES: Inga can uses curses to inflict diseases such as rashes, hayfever, warts, infertility....again, the bigger the curse, the more time, effort and materials go into it. She can curse an individual or a small group--not a country. (Consent certainly applies for all)

ELEMENTALIST: Beginner abilities in Elemental attacks; Electric and fire attacks that do a moderate amount of damage.

BLOOD MAGIC: Inga is versed in what corresponds to the modern form of blood magic; capable of forming protective barriers around herself and others, using her own blood offensively and draining other's vital fluids.
|Assets=AGARTHA CONDUIT: A seemingly brass and iron object about the size of a baseball, an Agartha Conduit allows Inga to return to the Hollow Earth of their home world from anywhere in the Multiverse -- albeit on a one-way trip. When a Conduit is used, its very obvious, and requires a short period of focus that is capable of being interrupted (typically with violence). Use of an Agartha Conduit may be prevented with wards against teleportation and cross-world travel.
|NPCs=
|Disadvantages=BRIGHT AURA: The process of making CHARNAME an Anima Wielder has left its mark on HIS/HER soul. Anyone with the ability to perceive auras or any form of souls or soul power reveals CHARNAMEs nature. There is no known way for HIM/HER to hide this, which makes it quite difficult if they want to avoid detection.

Skewed Morality: Inga is from a world and time with a morality and word-view drastically different from most people's modern sensibilities. She has been involved in both animal and human sacrifice, and sees these things are necessary parts of her religion of course, she will be learning different ways from the people she meets. It's bound to make for very interesting interaction, and may well land her enemies due to misunderstandings.

Illiterate: Inga is from a time in which people did not really read or write. Runes were used as a rudimentary alphabet, mostly for inscriptions, grave markers, etc. She speaks a small bit of Latin but cannot read or write it.

Technological Incompetence: Inga is confounded by technology. She has absolutely no idea how most things workthe modern household may as well operate by magic. In fact, magic would honestly make more sense. She will need to be taught how to use electricity, never mind computers, motor vehicles, and guns.

Disability: Inga was born with what is essentially cerebral palsy. Her hips are disformed in such a way that she walks with a pronounced limp. While being one of the Bees has improved her constitution considerably, she still walks with a limp that will slow her down. She uses a rune carved staff to improve her gait, but she most certainly will not be winning any races.
}}