1029/SGRUB: Return to Worst Land

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SGRUB: Return to Worst Land
Date of Scene: 25 November 2014
Location: Afterus Orbit - Olympian Realms
Synopsis: Description pending. (Sgrub TP)
Cast of Characters: 2, Arthur Lowell, Staren, Vruasa Telash, Fiora O'Brien, 183, 253, 441
Tinyplot: Sgrub


Vruasa Telash has posed:
THE LAND OF OCEANS AND MIRAGES
THE PAST

Under ordinary circumstances, this entire scenario would be prefaced with a whole lot of getting together, a whole lot of faffing around on the Myrmidon, and a whole lot of not actually getting anywhere. Those are all things that actually happened, but the pilot of the Myrmidon was INSANELY BORED with these tedious conventions. So he kicked time into overdrive and skipped everyone over that part in fast forward. This is about as irritatingly disorienting as might be expected of such time shenanigans. It's hard to remember things when they happen so fast.

Remember when VCRs were a thing, and it was all a grainy blur fast forwarding that motherfucker? Imagine that, only you're living in it. How the hell does that douchebag live with doing that with so much of his life? There's an actual answer to that question, but you're not going to get it today.

You are gathered atop the MYRMIDON, a TIME SHIP. Depending on your associations and contacts in the group present, your presence here may be a CONFUSING MYSTERY explained only by FATE SAID YOU'D BE HERE. Vruasa Telash takes such things SERIOUSLY, and doesn't question the impulses of fate that tell him things are going to happen. You are here to explore the LAND OF OCEANS AND MIRAGES in search of a PIECE OF A STONE SLAB. Unfortunately, this entire planet is a CLUSTERFUCK OF NONSENSE. The whole thing is covered in oceans, and the only actual visible part of it is a great TOWER rising up from the oceans, bearing the hallmarks of TROLL ARCHITECTURE and COLOR SCHEMES. It is primarily CHARCOAL GREY and PURPLE. There are lots of APPARITIONS out in the distance, but they appear to be INCREDIBLY FAKE on closer inspection. This godawful Land is an entire planet that is basically a WATER LEVEL.

WATER LEVELS are ALWAYS bad news.

There are TWO people of note present on top of the ship. One is VRUASA TELASH, who looks intensely uncomfortable for some reason. He's standing near IBOLGO LUTHIN, a female troll with short upright horns and a perky demeanor to her. They don't seem to be interacting, despite their general proximity. Those who are aware of Ibolgo's circumstances may know what the piece of rock they're here for IS.

But as this is a Homestuck sub-plot, this won't actually be explained for months if you didn't catch it the first time.

IN THE FUTURE OF THE PRESENT, where no one IS, the MEANDERING MERCHANT meanders his way through the streets of one of Alternia's moons. A cityscape spreads out around him, filled with other black-carapaced humanoids. He is on a HUNT for an ARTIFACT of great POWER. There's probably a profit to be turned here somewhere if he can find it. Probably. If not, he can just use it to be ridiculously powerful.

It's a win-win scenario for him, though he privately laments the inherent time shenanigans involved in his quest.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber was almost late to this time travel, which is a weird thing to imagine! He had a deployment that ended only 15-20 minutes before the meetup for this water level. That's why he didn't even have time to get REAL medical care, and he and LC had patchedworked a series of bandages from a torn t-shirt. And Psyber was given a fresh dress shirt by his friend LAWLESS CRIMESOLVER. And a fresh set of pants. The end result is that Psyber is now dressed in khaki pants and a pressed white shirt, while nursing some serious bullet holes under the slightly spiffy appearance.

    "Oh right. More oceans. Why did I even change out of the bloody clothes?" He remarks, staring down at the ocean below them. He moves to stand near Ibolgo and look down into the watery level below them, "So Ibby. You gonna actually go down there this time, or just sit on the sidelines again?"

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Summer has not been as involved in Sgrub as she probably should be. Or at least, she feels as such. But knowing about this FATE BULLSHIT, Summer also is aware that it doesn't matter what she feels. If she was going to be helping, she'd be helping. Today she manages to get away from God Duties for long enough to show up.

     She's kind of just floating above the ship, rather than standing. She doesn't have much /reason/ to be floating right now, she just kind of is.

     It's also worth noting her outfit. Because she is, as usual, dressed to try and draw attention in some way or other. And she is basically dressed in a black and white COURT JESTER outfit. Specifically, a SEXY COURT JESTER OUTFIT. Yeah, she picked up some Halloween costumes. It's basically a really short dress, and is divided into quarters of different colors. One section has a pattern, though: Specifically, hearts, diamonds, spades, and clubs, in an /almost/ checkerboard looking pattern. She's wearing black tights, and a jester hat.

     Also she is for some reason holding a staff (actually a mophandle) in the shape of Kyubey.

     she glances at Psyber's wounds a bit.

     "...Need some healing, by the way?"

     Granted she kind of thinks Psyber looks more BADASS with injuries, but still, she may as well offer.

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    While IN THE PRESENT, Homura shoots off an email to the MEANDERING MERCHANT. It is extremely vaguely worded, as though intentionally crafted by a wordsmith attempting to conceal his true question (did past you ever locate that thing and send me information on it) without losing the meaning of it. However the player isn't Kyubey and can't conceive of the best way to even word such a thing. It's entirely possible Homura did in fact ask Kyubey for help wording the thing, admittedly. It's basically that dodgy about asking a question that might create unfortunate time-related circumstances.

    IN THE PAST, ARCHAGENT HOMURA stands by Psyber. She shuffles towards the ALCHEMITER and stuffs in one of her HIDDEN BLADES (which is, unlike traditional models, alloyed with silver), along with a REGISWORD. It is to kill time, and possibly make up for the horrible failure that was the SUICIDE SURPRISE.

    Not that she isn't preciously keeping that thing until a time to use it comes up. Waste not want not, everything has a use. Eventually.

    "I find the land itself way more threatening than the water at this point. It seemed to bother the lot of you quite a bit more than most things are able to at all. "Say, where's Fiora this time? Fishfiora. Fiorasprite?" She forgot what they are supposed to call her, yes. (As did the player.)

Vruasa Telash has posed:
"Ugh! Are you going to keep pestering me about this shit until I go?" Ibolgo demands of Psyber, visibly annoyed. She's distressed by something, but since she hasn't been talking at all it's probably safe to say that she's keeping it to herself for a reason. There's no telling what it is. Of the Trolls she seems relatively more cautious, perhaps even cowardly. Nothing like the four that actually visited the Kid's session. It might just be the nature of her abilities.

"And," She presses, "quit complaining about the water. Everybody just keeps going in the damned dwelling spire anyway. Only place we can survive without special gear. I can't imagine what a pain in the ass this Land was for GM to deal with when she first got here." Ibolgo puffs audibly, looking down at the base of the tower, which sinks beneath the waves.

Staren has posed:
    Sgrub! It's been awhile. In the present, anyway. It hasn't been awhile in the past, probably.

    "Guh..." Staren holds his hand to his head after getting fast-forwarded. "That... how does that even... you fast forwarded us, but... I still made decisions and /did/ stuff, but I don't remember it, so who was doing those things?" He scratches his head. He's wearing his normal clothes, not suited up in power armor /yet/, because he's not sure just what they'll be dealing with.

    He walks out to the railing, or the edge, to look over at the tower. "So. Water world, mysterious images, and a tower. What's the deal with this world? What's today's quest? I think I asked this before, but we kinda fast-forwarded through it, so..."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    A spaceship.

    Arthur swinging his broom around to play ninja.

    These are the things that Mizuki recalls seeing before time shifted in ways that gave her some concept of human 'inebriation'. Chronomancy the likes of which she can barely rationalize the magnitude of, happening when she's not ready for it, hits her like so many comedic pianos hit animated anthropomorphic animals. In fact, it's likely -worse- for her than it might be for any old shmuck on account of her affinity for it. Regardless of the disorientation, though, she would somehow cling to the already tenuous patch of reality she has her metaphorical claws in through the jump.

    Though she might spontaneously become visible, too, which might put some members of the group with whom she is less familiar on edge. She had, of course, followed Arthur here in complete silence, and complete invisibility. Psyber is familiar with this sensation, though perhaps not enough to have dubbed it the 'Mizuki is a Stalker' phenomenon yet. But he might. This narrative voice's own wonky time statistics can conclude this with 99 arbitrary certainty values that likely make even less sense than the intricacies of this plot will to the character this body of text is meant to express the feelings of.

    And if anyone asks why all of the above is so ridiculously meta, we'll write that off as more spatial bending owed to transportation ballistics.

    Mizuki's perception snaps back like a RUBBER BAND, and at the end of the time jump, she would likely clatter to the FLOOR OF THE ROOF OF THE SHIP, a word combination which barely evades being an OXYMORONOCLAST. Whilst there she would rub her head, an empty gesture considering her VAGUELY CONCEPTUAL PERSUASION. She would likely gaze around fervently as she recognizes her own RENEWED VISIBILITUDE, and rush to her feet. Clearing her throat with her balled fist held to her mouth in an UNINTENTIONALLY ORATORY GESTURE, Mizuki would assert her presence as a MAIDEN OF FATE. This is a working title as she will likely choose a better, less bulshitty class designation at a later date.

    Then her attention would promptly begin to flit about the room anew, though this time with purpose. A look and a nod are given to all those she might recognize before she finally introduces herself to Vruasa, flamboyant curtsy of course included. "Greetings, Mister Telash. We've not had many chances to speak or otherwise interact as of yet, but all the same I recall hearing your voice on the radio. Whether or not you recall mine, I appear to you today as Mizuki, Curator of Creation and Fated Companion. It is my earnest hope that I shall be more of a help than a hindrance here."

Fiora O'Brien has posed:
    As you behold the spire through the mists of the Land, and the mirages, something becomes clear. Someone has done a little defacing. Across the roof is a skeleton of some massive aquatic beast, picked clean, save for the facing eyeball that stares resolutely (and very dead-ly) out at the world. It has not had time to rot.

    Across the spire is a sticky set of writing, in ICHOR or BLOOD or some GOOEY, DARK SUBSTANCE that stands out in stark relief to the tower's muted <span class=" bold_bg_x fg_n ++ olorings.

    chx">YOU LEFT ME AGAIN</span> is written jaggedly and sloppily, dripping down the towers walls for all to see and read.

    It's like someone took a cheap slasher fic and dumped it on your laps.

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    ARTHUR LOWELL!

    Is not here with his characteristic enthusiasm. Rather, it's about half the norm. He's already feeling a little sick - Aspect dissonance is a harsh thing - but that's not the true cause for the bulk of how grumpy he looks.

    He shuffles off, giving a glance to Summer, just long enough to squint, incredulously, at her, starting off some baffled statement of "why are you wearing that" but just sort of giving up partway through. "CROWRAVEN, we're not even on the FASHION PLANET anymore, what is..." He starts, before sighing and laughing briefly. "Fucking, WHY is that even funny?" He attempts to disregard his laughing and go back to focusing on this.

    Then, "OH HEY, MIZUKI! Welcome on. Thanks for droppin' IN, I think? Where were you even..." He shakes his head. "Whatev', thanks for comin' on to help." And then, to Staren, "Don't think too hard. Anywya, the QUEST is that apparently GM needs some SHIT around here or they gonna DIE. This isn't SCEPTER QUEST anymore though. Lookin' for STONE SLABS, which means shit gon' be MAD RELIGIOUS I guess?" He makes vaguely helpless hand-wringing gestures. "I dunno. Just explore. Also: Don't look at the MIRAGES."

    And with that, he's blasting off to the nearby spire! And then kinda faltering. "THAT'S... OMINOUS." He says, with some concern. But figures there's nothing else to do but continue on inside! He intends to slam his way in, vent his frustrations into many aqua imps, and start descending!

Vruasa Telash has posed:
Homura runs into a problem. The guy's e-mail address has a time shenanigans filter. Looks like it caught it and forwarded it to his past self, who is already working on the issue. It notifies her of this forwarding and screening. Looks like this carapacian really hates his time shenanigans. Either that, or there's something potentially harmful in this specific interaction.

The present MEANDERING MERCHANT responds to the email using his PHONE. He says that he's working on it, keep your pants on already. Or don't, pants aren't everybody's thing. It's just a saying, don't think too much about it.

As for her alchemy...

REGISWORD
+
HIDDEN BLADE
=
MURDER OF KING CHARLES

It's a wrist-mounted Hidden Blade just like the original, but it's turned black with an elaborate silver trim. The blade length will also adjust to need (within limits, it'll get to about the scale of a regular Regisword before it ceases being able to extend), but this won't be readily apparent until it's tested. It can be assumed to have the same royalty-murdering properties as a Regisword, and as an added bonus it would be found to be particularly good at performing clean decapitations.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Yeah, that's pretty much what I do," Psyber says, fidgeting with the dress shirt that Lawless Crimesolver lent him. They're about the same size, but the half-angel still prefers to dress more casually, so it's a weird look for him. Suits are more a rarity than the norm, unlike the detective, "Ask her." He jerks a thumb to Homura, "I'm just gonna keep naggin' you till you do it."

    Summer gets a response shortly after, which is Psyber shaking his head, "Nah. It's just a few high-caliber bullet holes. We slapped some makeshift bandages on there and it'll be fine as long as I don't do any heavy lifting today." He smiles at Summer, "Long time no see, by the way. How've you been?"

    He'd normally greet Mizuki, but for now he figures she wants to let her do her mysterious and formal introductions. He knows those things are very important to her and that she doesn't like being knocked out of her regal bearing when she's trying to be an author.

    So instead he simply gawks at the blood writing.

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Summer just shrugs at pB, "I ended up buying a shitload of Halloween costumes and I've not had a chance to wear them all yet."

     Another pause.

     "Also, I alchemized all of this outfit with computers so I'm wearing at least like five of them."

     She also asks, just of anyone around in general. "Is the water dangerous or something? Or at least, dangerous more than normal water itself would be? And if it's a slab and mad religious, we probably should try praying or some shit like that. Prayers tend to get shit done if religion is a piece of things."

     She is /really/ out of touch with everything that has been going on.

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     And, as for Psyber, she just sighs a bit, "While the other Gods have been toying around in the past, I've been on prayer duty. It's not a huge deal, but still a little annoying. But otherwise good. Been spending a lot of time toying with my wardrobe, too."

Staren has posed:
    "Stone slabs. Okay. ...What if they're at the bottom of the ocean?" Staren turns to reply to Arthur, then catches sight of the writing. "...Was that writing there before, or is this new?"

Fiora O'Brien has posed:
    Entering the tower is a grisly sight, as there, to the side, is a pile of grist to pick up. It is, in fact, neatly SORTED into eight or so distinct piles. These piles are defined by BLOODSTAINS and BODIES.

    There are no imps. Nor orgres, no monsters, nor basilisks. Not... Alive, at any rate. Blood/Ichor/Game Abstraction Internal Fluid is fucking everywhere, though there is a relatively clean path to take down, as if someone, as an afterthought, mopped up the gory horror film swath so that people could simply continue on down.

    It's a total massacare. There isn't a living thing in the first few strata, though deeper in there is a sort of meaty and repetitive 'thunk'-ing sound, as if something blunt is repeatedly connecting with something else.

    Deeper in, the rooms become cleaner (and the grist piles disappear) as if nothing at all happened within the lower floors.They are, however, fairly empty.

    Oh, wait. Nope. Something's dripping off the <span class=" bold_bg_x fg_n ++ ieling.

    chx">AM I HELPING NOW</span>

Vruasa Telash has posed:
"Find the fucking rock that's sitting around. Try not to get too high off the fumes of this fucking place." Vruasa explains to Staren, as unhelpfully as possible. This is because he skipped all of those parts deliberately. There's too much faffing around at the beginning of these things and he isn't going to have any of it. Speaking of which, Mizuki does something that he often does and tags along invisibly. So she goes unnoticed until she APPROACHES HIM DELIBERATELY, at which point he just stares at her flatly. One hand rises to draw his shades down the bridge of his nose. He looks Mizuki in the eyes and, deadly serious, repeats himself.

"Find. The fucking. Rock."

Then he replaces his sunglasses and flies away from the Myrmidon, evidently ACTIVELY OPPOSED to useful expository banter. Vruasa is in fact examining the surroundings and the writing left behind by FIORASPRITE. Jesus fucking christ. What a goddamned mess. Did she just kill every single enemy that spawned on this Land? How the hell did she even leave behind something with a corpse? He kicks at the skeletal remains of the great beast experimentally, expecting it to explode into grist at just about any time. This is going to need to be dealt with. Now. Today.

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    Oh. This is nice. Strictly speaking entirely redundant for someone who can, on a whim, summon a sword in the first place. But it is visually much cooler and she supposes one day she might run into someone who can block her powers out.
    Never say never.

    The magical girl puts the weapon on under her left sleeve, and then adjusts the Archagent and puts the hat on. She taps her glasses, verifies everything is working, and then looks towards Psyber and his BFF troll waifu. "Yes. He will nag you until you die. And then, he will find out where your ghost ended up, and nag your ghost. There is no escape until you do the thing he is nagging you about," she confirms, deadpan and entirely serious.

    Everyone gets a vague greeting from the be-suited Homura otherwise, before she wanders over to the edge of the ship to stare at the writing and dead animal. Then back towards Vruasa.

    "Your. Uh. Your past girlfriend slash wife is worryingly..."
    Yandere? She wants to say the word, a lot.
    Sadly it would be lost on Vruasa. Oh, wait, she knows!

    "Blackrom? It is not an adjective but it'll do."

    FAST-FORWARD to entering the tower and exploring. They find another message from Fiorasprite! Homura mostly frowns. "Did I mention the word worrying? Arthur, say something reassuring."

Fiora O'Brien has posed:
    The corpse does not, in fact, explode in grist when interacted with. A chunk of it breaks, and then, with a great and VERY LOUD RATTLING, the half that was sort of hanging off the roof that is now loose scrrrraaaaapes its way down the side, before KER-SPLOOSHING into the water.

    Underneath the skeleton is a message, however! Scractched in to the roof, under the skeleton, are words!

    I ASKED YOU NOT TO LEAVE AND YOU DID IT ANYWAY

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "You are always welcome, Arthur, though I cannot help feeling like my ending up here was an entirely foregone conclusion. It feels as though some unseen yet omnipotent force whisked me away here partially against my will. Perhaps it really was fate?" She would cock her head slightly in contemplation, cupping a hand around her cheek. "... no. No, I think 'curiosity' would be a better word." Though her would-be philosophical ramble regarding her disbelief in the concept of fate - a conversation which would quite likely have cataclysmic ramifications given the company - is swiftly pre-empted by some writing on the wall.

    Literal writing on the wall, that is. None of that colloquialistic BS where the phrase can be linked to just about everything.

    And then Vruasa's -DEAD SERIOUS- reiteration causes another leftward swivel, in addition to a fairly blank stare of her own. She can hear the questions erupting in her mind now: what rock? What does the rock do? What does the rock look like? And yet, all of them are squashed outright by the spontaneity of it all. The command of his voice and, perhaps even more prevalently, the command of INTRIGUE! So Mizuki's reply ends up being a fair bit less flowery than normal.

    "The rock. Okay."

    Of course, she has no idea what this surely euphemistic pseudonym applies to, so she's just going to hang in the back for now, likely hassling Arthur. And pestering Psyber. "... can you clarify anything for me, or is this karmic retribution for my standard coyness?"

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The Land of OCEANS and MIRAGES has its physical features in amazing quantity. The oceans are only absent in a single location (as far as anyone can tell), but the mirages... the mirages seemed to be contained to GM's house. Seemed to be. Arthur Lowell is about to learn that not only are they present on the surface, they are aggressive. All at once every single one of his computers lights up and buzzes with a message indication. The only problem is that most of the people who would be messaging him on pesterchum are, of course, right here.

-- powerPlayer [PP] began pestering profoundBadness [PB] --

PP: Hello.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
Ibolgo Luthin is sick of this shit. She flips Psyber off, removes some PSHOOOOOES from her sylladex, and flies right the fuck over into the DWELLING SPIRE and enters it through a door that opens into mid-air. She slams it behind her with a thunderous noise. Sounds like she's actually pretty bodily powerful. Not that such a trait will be necessary or useful in these circumstances. All of the enemies inside and outside are extremely dead, or in the process of being killed.

Without providing grist in most cases, even. Weird.

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Summer, meanwhile, decides it is time to take an aggressive approach to scouting out the ocean. She speaks. A Haiku, specifically. Yeah, she's accessing her Sylladex.

     "Dark Murderous Scythe."
     "My loyal salamander."
     "Scout the ocean floor."

     And suddenly a Salamander appears. For a Salamander he looks PRETTY BADASS. If only in comparison. He has a wicked scar, a scythe on his back, and he is wearing leather.

     Summer then boots him into the ocean.

     "Report your findings over the radio," she yells after him.

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    "NEW." Arthur says, grimly, to Staren. Then he calls back to Summer. "Water's got UNDERLINGS in it. Aaaaaaand apparently this doesn't now." He squints and shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. "No no no. It's like the MIRAGES. Just... Just FOCUS on what we're here for. BIG SLAB. Something RELIGIOUS. Look for TEMPLES, look for REVERENT LOCALS, that kinda shit. Look for... Jesus christ she did a number on this place." He makes uncomfortable noises, peering at corpses, but he presses on. Homura gets a helpless sort of look. "If I had to guess? She's FEELING GRIMDARK. And that's somethin' we can SNAP HER OUT OF. If it's BAD."

    "Hang on, I got a call." He says, as his sylladex starts buzzing. He freezes and goes pale, his breath caught in his throat and trembling just slightly. He remembers that chumhandle, clear as day.

PB: Hello.

    He tries to find some further words to say, desperately attempting to wrench SOME kind of meaningful thing to say to this person, and yet, he can't seem to do it. The intense silence he provides after that, coming from someone like PB, is probably enough.

    Looks like the others may need to go ahead of him for a moment.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
"No, she's fucking crazy because she self-prototyped as a Void player. Also, not my wife or girlfriend or anything like that. Alternate timeline iterations of people are not the same people. Also: Blackrom has nothing to do with this." Vruasa explains to Homura, flatly. He seems incredibly aggravated by all of this, and uncertain of what he should do. Letting Fiorasprite go completely nuts and deface everything in the session isn't even slightly an option. Killing her is too cruel, and not something he's actually willing to do anyway. Which really just comes back around to what the fuck to do about her.

There's nothing else for him to accomplish looking at this thing. Let's see... Fiorasprite was prototyped with GM's sprite, right? Vruasa considers the matter and wonders if it would be helpful to go retrieve GM's pendant. Maybe she can still be summoned to try to account for this mess. There's no way he's going to be able to find her if she's trying to avoid him otherwise, but the Void powers may render her entirely immune to...

Wait, does she HAVE powers? Vruasa can't recall if she was a fully realized Witch or not in this incarnation. He makes a frustrating noise and flies down towards the base of the spire, in search of a low entrance...

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber will clarify for Mizuki, "I believe we're looking for a piece of a large stone bed that we're reassembling so that the young lady who just flipped me the bird and left can ascend to the same tier of power as Arthur or Summer." Psyber clarifies for Mizuki as he watches Ibolgo fly off.

    "Good job having my back, Homura. Ten extra credit points," Psyber says to the Puella Magi, placing his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, "Anyway, you head into the spire and you search, Mizuki."

    And with that, Psyber actually leaps off the edge of the ship and tries to do exactly what he did last time: Crash through a narratively convenient window.

Staren has posed:
    "Fumes?" Staren asks. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a torc with a little air canister on it, puts it around his neck, and a hood inflates up from it. "Find the rock? If it were as simple as just going down empty floors until we find the rock, you wouldn't need /us/ for it..." He looks up at the message. "What if whoever wrote /this/ has the rock?"

    Staren does give a nod of agreement when Vruasa denies that girlfriend/wife status extends to alternate universe versions.

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    "Can you even hand out points like that?" Homura asks Psyber.

    And then to Vruasa: "Alright, alright. Calm down. I was oversimplifying but you are right, that was a bit shortsighted for me, not to remember alternate timeline people are... well, alternate people, not the same. So just plain crazy? You're going to have to explain to me why a Void player self-prototyping is bad. For that matter you're going to have to explain self-prototyping, I only remember original flavor. When we stuffed objects into a machine and it made sprites."

    Their conversation can happen over Pesterchum, if they end up separated, or if Vruasa does not progress deeper. But since she's fairly free of horrible mindgames, Homura's going to dive down into the depths of the tower and follow the trail of corpses, while it's still fresh.

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     After having kicked the Salamander into the ocean, Summer just kind of follows after everyone else.

     She's honestly just observing right now and completely in awe of how insane Fiorasprite seems to be.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The oceans surrounding the DWELLING SPIRE are actually occupied by some sort of sea-dwelling consort. They're probably salamanders as well, but they look a little bit different. More distinctly aquatic rather than amphibious. This is only natural because there is little in the way of land on this planet, if there is any at all. They even have little coral villages scattered around. You might be able to find something out down there, assuming they're not amazingly retarded even by consort standards.

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     SCYTHE THE SALAMANDER approaches one of the coral villages. Specifically, he is looking for the equivalent of a SEEDY CORAL SALOON, some place where he could kick the swinging front doors in, and come in, like a badass. You know, sit down at a table, and then deliver his badass line.

     "Bring me an underwater drink, glub glub. I'm looking for a slab glub glub."

     Of course there is entirely a chance he may of just kicked in the front door of a non-seedy bar or something that will lead to a bad situation.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    "Remind me why, exactly, we are so keen on giving this," Ahem, "'young lady who just flipped you the bird' that sort of power, exactly?" As if crap like this needs any logical explanation. She would nod to his suggestion, however, her wings appearing just in time for her to notice Arthur. She would briefly study his now more pale, motionless form with some concern, though she presumes in an environ of this sort that other people more better suited to comforting him will appear soon enough anyway. An assumption that is, perhaps, horribly, horribly misguided, grant you, but it's still justification enough for her to take off toward the spire.

    And she would land inside shortly before Homura, looking for the indicated STONE BED alongside the puella magi. Having a place of rest be located in a place decorated with GRATUITOUS VISCERA and other assorted artifacts of death seems, to her, to have just as much POETIC MERIT as it does TRANSCENDENTAL VULGARITY. Nevertheless, though, she would keep on, perhaps hassling Homura for a word or two should they end up in the same area. Which they might. "Is that man always so... forward, or is he particularly agitated today? I am guessing based upon prior eavesdropping that, in this case, both apply, but one can never be too sure."

    Especially since she's doing that stalking thing again, maybe.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
PP: I apologize for approaching you abruptly in this manner.
PP: Ordinarily I find it distasteful to harass complete strangers through internet chat clients.
PP: But I have chanced to glimpse an individual that I believe is you on a number of occasions while engaging in high-risk group activities with my companions.
PP: The others are either unwilling or uninterested in inquiring as to the nature of your existence.
PP: I have therefore resolved to do so myself.
PP: Are you real?


Vruasa Telash has posed:
IBOLGO LUTHIN seems to have picked well. Leaping to the lower half of the structure is possible but catching up to her precisely proves impossible. Furthermore, the hallucinations begin for Psyber immediately upon entrance into the spire. The great cacophony of racket has ceased, not due to illusions or mirages or any such thing. No, it's because FIORASPRITE has scared the shit out of anything left alive in here and they've shut the fuck up. The young Witch of Doom is not visible anywhere, but as soon as Psyber comes to a halt he finds himself facing another troll.

You have seen this young lady before. She was grown up then, and seemed quite happy to be dying.

The Troll in the Green Dress casts a wary gaze towards Psyber and any others who follow his path. She doesn't seem to exist in the same space as everybody else, but she does appear to be able to see and respond. The language she speaks in is some kind of broken dialect of japanese, and she has a distinctly spiritless tone to her voice. "Another one who acts as a demon on behalf of others. Looking for the path forward, slayer? I'd tell you to just kill yourself but it wouldn't get the you that matters anywhere."

"Try it anyway if you don't believe me." She adds, bitterly.

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    Arthur's going to let the others go deal with Fiora, who he expects may have something to do with the slab. Or, rather, he would be suspecting that. If it weren't for the fact that all his mental processes at the moment are being taken up by this <span style="color:ontact.

cxterm2">PB: Yeah, I am.
PB: I didn't know if you were but
PB: I guess neither of us are gonna say no to that.
PB: High risk, you said.
PB: Where are you at in the timeline of the game?
PB: Reckoning? Pre-Reckoning?
PB: Another go around to help friends?</span>

    He feels that awful, terrible ache in his chest, where you want, desperately, to say something meaningful. Or ask him to convey a message to one of his friends in particular. But he can't seem to bring himself to think the words into one of his many computers. It just doesn't work. For now, he remains mentally bluescreened, and the group will likely be leaving him behind a bit.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
Unfortunately, VRUASA has separated from the main group. Their questions must therefore go unanswered. The spire, like with the others, is eerily silent. The hallucinations begin in earnest with the others, and it appears unaffected by equipment. It may just be the nature of the place, rather than an actual physical reaction to the fumes.

STAREN finds himself accompanied by an extremely stylized grim reaper who shuffles along next to him carrying a tea set.

SUMMER begins to suffer hallucinations similar to what Arthur experienced the first time. Down a spiral staircase a glimpse of a YOUNG MAN with the beginnings of an amazing beard wearing a GOD TIER outfit can be made out. He is accompanied by a YOUNG WOMAN. She is VERY FAMILIAR.

MIZUKI amusingly gets to witness an image down a nearby hallway, depicting ARTHUR AND VRUASA's first meeting. Did this place just react to her query? Perhaps. Arthur and Vruasa come to an uneasy truce with the intent to MURDER whoever developed SBURB, when they find that person.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber pauses for a long moment, seeing if there's anything around that could immediately threaten him before he acknowledges the illusion. He takes a slow breath and then says, "I would if I thought it would progress matters to a substantial enough degree as to make the loss of my presence balanced by the forward movement in circumstance."

    It's a hard and formal statement on his part. The casual and relaxed demeanor is gone, replaced with a cool formality, "Unfortunately, at this time I don't see the payoff being worth cashing in that chip on my part. Maybe in the future, though." He pauses, "What about your death? What did it accomplish?"

Staren has posed:
    Staren turns to Vruasa to ask a question and instead: Grim reaper! He jumps a bit, hands drawing his pistol and beam saber but not activating them. "What do you want?? Why are you here??"

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Summer is, more or less, aware that these things are illusions. After all, she was warned ahead of time. And so, she's going to try a couple of things. Namely, sensing them for Life. If they're just simple illusions, they, in theory, /shouldn't/ have any life.

     Also the fact the woman is familiar bugs Summer but she can't quite place who she is. She has some ideas, but she is absolutely trying to avoid thinking on who it might be. It's just am irage. none of it is real.

     But, she just speaks up. She is just going to be incredibly straightforward about this.

     "You're just illusions I think, but do you know where what we're looking for is?"

     A pause.

     "Also your beard is fucking /amazing./"

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    Arthur's spooked, Vruasa's on edge.
    Really, fuck this place.

    Homura, if she were still with anyone, would excuse herself and then straight up disappear. From her perspective, the color drains from the world and all noises stop; even those coming from her, eventually just halt, forming bubbles of sound waiting to resolve themselves. Absolutely, thoroughly, fuck this place. Visions can't get her like this, can they? She won't have to deal with whatever the others are.

    The Puella Magi heads down, and down, and down the spire.
    She's used to it. The silence and discolored world would probably make anyone else uncomfortable and unwilling to stay in it for long periods of time, but eventually she got over that herself.
    Thirty seconds, five minutes, a hour. No big deal.
    Long as she has fuel for it, it's fine.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
PP: I think that is a matter for the philosophers.
PP: For all practical purposes the reality of our interaction is unverifiable.
PP: But you are correct in assuming that I would tell you I am real.
PP: I think that even if I were some form of construct that I would still be substantial enough to offer affirmations of my existence.
PP: I realize that is hardly a reassuring thing for me to say.
PP: But if it is not true then rest assured that nothing exists behind this text to suffer by the lack of its own existence.
PP: I am afraid that I am not familiar with the terms you are using.
PP: From my perspective entry into the Medium was only a short while ago.
PP: Why?


Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Thankfully, a mixture of foresight, ability knowledge, and knowing that each of the people she sees down the hallway are, in fact, behind her with virtually no logical way of having surpassed her - the lattermost detail ironically being the least relevant by far - allow Mizuki to quickly debunk this visual as a hallucination. Still, she looks and listens with rapt interest, perhaps getting a better idea of Vruasa's character in the process. That's to say: yes, quite forward and rough even in times of 'peace', but still somehow honorable in ways that more than pique her curiosity.

    After some time paused she would approach the phantoms, essentially testing to see if proximity has any effect whatsoever on them. If it doesn't and they're still around by the time she gets close, she may even attempt to lay a hand on imagine-Arthur's shoulder, partially in lament of the fact that she hadn't done so with the real one earlier. Assuming she doesn't get a jumpscare when she tries, and that some other illusion doesn't come into existence immediately after through some other means, she, too, would continue on through the tower. Though just in case the mirages /do/ have anything at all to do with verbal prompting...

    "I do wonder what paths other successful spelunkers might've taken through this place." Juuust in case she gets a lucky break and she can see which corridors have traps, or, if she's /really/ fortunate, which path the -correct- people took! Hey, she would even settle for seeing where she's walking moments in the future! Like they said on Indiana Jones, anything goes, ghost people; anything goes.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The Troll in the Green Dress lights up a cigarette and blows smoke at Psyber. You can almost smell it. She chides him for teasing her, because it's a long time before she dies. Much like himself, she explains, she is bound to enact the plan of a greater power. In this case you could say that she is a slave to the angel of death. If she could die right now she would, and she reassures Psyber that she's tried many times. It's a morbid conversation to say the least, and she doesn't seem to care about the value or lack thereof of her life in any context.

It's just something to be thrown away, inevitably, for some rest.

Which is why she suggests the same solution to him, but she's not surprised he's too bound up in events to even bother trying. It's a hell of a fate he's got ahead of him, she remarks. The scope of it is so much worse than what she's going to have to bring about. At least she's only limited to this single, dreary civilization.

The rest is some other schmuck's problem.

Fiora O'Brien has posed:
    As Homura uses TIME POWERS within the tower... The mirages clear for her. They are replaced with a sort of black miasma. The world is darker than it should be, and a sort of carpet of thick BLACK SMOG fills the null-time zone. And it moves. It sweeps away from her footfalls, as she descends.

    The thunking sound, however, had stopped.

    When Homura reaches Fiorasprite she hovers there, her ghosty sprite-tail instead of legs accompanying her holding high a MASSIVE OGRE CLUB as what can be only described as 'ogre puree' seeps everywhere. She had been beating the ogre the entire time, and she had somehow managed to make the ogre not disappear like a game construct. No. She had beaten it to death, and then kept going, until there was just a meaty, crushed mess.

    And, within the timestop, the club slips out of her raised hands. Or, rather, her hands fall limp to her sides.

    And her head turns.

    Wide-eyed, with an utterly haggard look on her face... She smiles, as her catfish whiskers twitch. "He-llo, Time Girl. Don't you know it's /rude/ to make people wait?" She offers, before...

    Laughing. It is not a sane laugh. And she laughs and laughs and laughs, as she floats over, takes Homura by the shoulders and spins her. All in Null-time.

    "But I figured it out! I'm /beyond/ time now. I just had to think about it long enough. And, you know what?"

    Her face turns furious, as she presses her face into Homura's, eyes pressed close to the Puella's, and bloodsoaked hands grip her by the shoulders.

    "You ALL gave me SO MUCH TIME TO THINK!"

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The MEANDERING MERCHANT stands in one of the local museums, holding a CAMERA PHONE. He snaps a picture and sends it to HOMURA. A shitty phone picture of the White King's Scepter, slightly obscured by the glare of the glass, is soon after sent to her text client. An attached message asks, IS THIS WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR?

This is, in fact, what you're looking for, and it seems way too easy. What are you going to offer him for it?

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The Grim Reaper looks flatly towards Staren. His skeletal face hasn't got the features to express this sort of look, but it's clear that he's looking flatly at him. He pours him a cup of tea and offers it to him silently. It appears as if he is acting as some kind of bizarre butler. Or, something underneath the Grim Reaper's appearance is trying to poison Staren. Either way, he doesn't answer audibly.

Psyber (253) has posed:
When the troll lights up a cigarette, Psyber does too. Since ladies set the rules for ettiquette, it's okay for him to smoke now. He exhales his own stream of smoke and then carefully listens. It's quite a morbid conversation they have, because for the most part, Psyber can explain and agree with her that death isn't something he actively avoids, so much as he views his own as largely expendable when faced with an equivalent tradeoff.

The half-angel flicks some ash to the ground.

Psyber's next inquiry is obvious: What is she going to bring about? And from that inquiry, who is she? He's unable to make a full assessment without such critical facts.

Staren has posed:
    Staren just glares at Death for a moment. "Come on, I know better than to drink anything that might be from the afterlife..." He nudges the cup with the tip of his pistol, to see if it's really there.

Arthur Lowell has posed:
    Arthur has to do something. he has to do SOMETHING. ANYTHING! He has to do some meaningful gesture, some action that can help, something to make this rare contact mean something! Even if it's with a hallucination, he's distressed past the point of caring, shaking with stress and swearing under his breath. His typing, though, is more clear and articulate than ever.

PB: I'll make you a deal.
PB: Doesn't matter what timeline you're in, you like those, right?
PB: Take a message to your friend, Lowell.
PB: Tell him "I'm sorry, thank you for everything".
PB: He won't know know what you're talking about, and that's fine.
PB: And when I die, you tell him I said that was fine too, and not to feel down.
PB: But you wait until then, not before.
PB: In exchange

profoundBadness [PB] sent walkthrough_final.txt!

PB: Most of that probably doesn't fit you.
PB: But
PB: Maybe it'll help get you guys through.
PB: Got all that, dude?


Vruasa Telash has posed:
Summer Powers is about to reach an incredibly unsettling realization. One which would otherwise not have been explored in the absence of a deity of Life, but which further affirms that something here is not quite as it seems. The mirages here DO have a life of a sort, but the exact nature of it is difficult to pin down. It is as if some quantum uncertainty separates the things they are seeing from themselves. The pair do not actually hear her, but they do have a "Life" of a sort. It's distant and wavering, and doesn't seem to be concrete. What she is sensing is the POTENTIAL of Life, if not necessarily the actualization of Life.

Are they real? Are they alive?

Her demense as a Goddess of Life offers up an unsettling answer which raises only further questions: Maybe.

The pair do not hear her, just as they didn't hear and couldn't speak to Arthur last time. The young man does turn about and spot her Summer though, squinting at her in confusion. He reaches over and grabs the young woman by the shoulder, shaking her and pointing.

The image fades before she turns around.

It is replaced by the image of another young man.

This young man is very familiar. With hawkish features, a stylish suit and expensive accessories, there is absolutely no denying who he is. A hawk rests on a motorized portable perch next to him. A ROCKET RECLINER is his seat. He is typing on a laptop. Like the others he can't hear anybody, but the conversation between this young man and Arthur is visible on the laptop screen.

IN THE MEANTIME beneath the water, her salamander enters a BAR... there is a pocket of air just above it, in which the bar structure is built. There are several PATRONS, many of which look like consorts from OTHER WORLDS. They are currently gossiping about the BLACK TERROR, a sea beast that has been murdering its way through all the other monsters in the Land.

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    For a moment it appears Fiorasprite is still. Homura has no reason to have her guard up; the world might be darker, quieter, different, but it's not dangerous, and usually never is. The slip of the club, and the sudden turn and stare, however...

    "Wh--"

    Grabbed, spun. It's awkward, and the magical girl takes a moment to halt herself, in time for Fiora to press her face into Homura's. THAT, that's beyond awkward. And the grab. No, there's worse than the grab, there's the fact she's unaffected by the timestop to start with. How easy is it to beat a speedster into a pulp when they can't use their speed?

    The answer to that question always makes the Puella Magi turn pale.

    Her thoughts briefly redirect themselves to her glasses, entering a few commands. An email is sent to MEANDERING MERCHANT, reading approximately: "brb 1 sec maybe dying sry".

    Then she returns her full focus to Fiorasprite.

    "I can see that. It was nice of you to clear the tower for us. I don't know why Vruasa hasn't been bringing you along, I'm sorry. How long has it been since our last visit?" For them, it's been... what half a month? Bit more? Hopefully not nearly as long for Fiora, but even if she's only been here a few days, that's probably a few days too many for someone Vruasa qualifies as quote unquote CRAZY.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The mirage that Mizuki is witnessing is unable to react to her. Unlike the ones experienced by Summer, Arthur, and even Psyber at this exact moment, they are a vision of the past. There is nothing to interact with any further, because if those events had been tampered with by this place then we would already have known that because those are all things we've already done. The mirage doesn't change. The events keep playing out, concluding with Vruasa getting goaded into drinking hell wine and flipping out in fast-forward.

It turns out that there is some measure of reactive going on here, however. What other paths were taken? What is the right path? The first question is answered. Many different silhouettes wander down many different paths all around her. But the one that is most illuminated is the image of a Seadweller Troll. Anyone around her who was there at the time would recognize him as Ivulst Thrulm, the Bard of Mind. This guy has been dead for months, but it looks like he pursued SOMETHING down here.

The path he takes leads farther down...

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Before Summer can really do /anything/ in response to the first figures, they fade. She at least has an idea that they may or may not be real, which leans her to thinking this is some Schrodinger bullshit. Still, though, as she is getting a good idea who these people are, she is sad she couldn't try something sooner.

     Instead, with the current figure, typing away, well. She wants to try something, and she wants to try something fast.

     His life is currently just a 'maybe'. She wants to turn it into a 'Yes'. Or try to. Hell, honestly, she has no idea if she can even do anything. But she should at least /try/.

     And so, she lifts a hand, trying to infuse Life into the mirage of a young man before her. Trying to /force/ him to be observedly alive.

     She is really hoping this doesn't backfire horrificly.

     Meanwhile, as Scythe the Salamander listens in on the bar, he approaches the patrons. He gives a rousing speech, about the necessity to fight back against whatever evil they might encounter. In fact, he even starts handing out weapons to the various consorts. Seemingly Summer gave this Salamander his own Sylladex. God knows why she thought this was a good idea.

     Still, though, he is trying to equip the other consorts with weaponry, and trying to round up a posse to search across the ocean a bit.

     Again this can't possibly go wrong.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The Troll In Green is no one important, she explains. A Handmaiden to an angel of death, but not one who is relevant to the realities which Psyber interacts with. Well, tangentially, but not directly. Her part in his plan is limited, and it doesn't involve Session 613 anyway. The glitch had not occurred there. The circumstances were abnormal. But, she remarks with disturbingly cheerful amusement, the entire situation is going to turn into a calamitous clusterfuck. Alternia was never meant to see that many players.

From his perspective, she explains, her part in things is done. Alternia was prepared for the game. Its players were optimized to succeed. Then she dies, and the next idiot gets to do whatever their part is. Beyond that she doesn't care what happens. It's not her problem.

But, she points out, exhaling smoke through her nose. It's definitely going to bite you in the ass.

Fiora O'Brien has posed:
    "Oh, you were GOOD this time!" Fiorasprite offers, splitting off from Homura to float-pace back and forth, gesticulating animatedly with her hands, as the kind of rants.

    "It was ONLY half a month! Of time being stopped. Like now! Imagine my frustration, you see, at being trapped in her with everything. Alone. Unmoving. But it wasn't this little two-week dallaince that really did it..."

    She turns to Homura, pointing at her. "It was the months! MONTHS! MONTHS STILL, ALONE, UNMOVING, WITH NOTHING BUT MY THOUGHTS! It was bad enough when I had to do it in waking day bursts, but I had things to do, to break the monotony. And I was /built/ for it. I was, before. But that me is /gone/ now. And now I'm the me that you see. I'm PHYSICALLY COMPULSED to do help! Help, or /disappear forever/. AND YOU LEFT ME HERE! TORTURED! INCAPABLE OF DOING ANYHTING! AND THE VERY WORST PART IS, EVEN IF I WANTED TO JUST STOP EXISTING... I COULDN'T! BECUASE those that I was supposed to help weren't there for me to LEAVE!"

    She pants, her accusing arm falling to her side, as she... Smiles.

    And shrugs. "But it's okay. Well, not really, but I've gotten past it. Isn't it great? I fixed it! I fixed evrything! Aren't I helping?"

    "Well? Aren't I?!"

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    In mystery novels, there exists a thing known to most as a 'red herring'. Not literally a fish, this is an artistically liberal way of saying 'something that seems important that really isn't'. These things are often highlighted needlessly, much as this... creature, presumably a male, is being highlighted now.

    In parallel to that exists something else called 'Chekov's Gun'. Going by that, nearly -everything- must mean -something-. So even if this newly appearing specter turns out to be entirely useless, or worse yet, some neverending spiral wherein she is tormented for her neurotypical response to seeing a particularly bright light, it's hard to imagine that this ghost would not find its way about chiding her for something else should she choose another direction.

    So for a fairly long time, she pauses in contemplation, weighing her options and their potential outcomes. In parallel with that, another idea hits: what if she were to 'blend in' with the phantoms, so to speak? Being who she is, and more importantly, -what- she is, she's not that far removed from being one of them as it is. So not only does she walk on after the luminant troll, but she also allows herself to 'fade' somewhat -- to become translucent while also trending closer to a place where each hallucination in this place is real at once; an imaginative nexus where she could, potentially, perceive these visions with more clarity than the standard person.

    She does not intend for this to have any immediate and horrific impacts on her situation, but you never know. In the best case, she might even be able to become a participant in the hallucinations! Interact with the people there as the others have, but as a person who would have existed in the same time and situation as the phantom in question.

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    "Y... yes. Yes, you are," Homura decides on. It's not a LIE, but it is admittedly a very awkward to state truth given Fiorasprite's extreme agitation and... well, again: CRAZY.

    Her words kind of put context on it, at least.

    "This will be empty, coming from me, but I do apologize. I'm not familiar with this game's mechanics. I don't know what happens when Vruasa takes us back and forth, I just assume he knows what he's doing and that he's doing what he feels needs done. If I had known I would have at least suggested we find a way to... I'm not sure. Do something, for you."

    And that's still true. She'd like to help, too, but that's up to Vruasa, whether or not it can be done. On the other hand, Fiorasprite wants to help, and Homura just got handed something she needs help with.

    "There's... one more thing we could use help with, though. Well, two, technically... we came here looking for a slab of rock. But more urgently..." She taps her glasses, and they begin projecting the shitty picture of the White King's scepter in the air. "I have a merchant on the line who knows where this is and can get it for us. Without this I believe your Session is doomed, or at least in serious trouble. He wants payment for it. What would you suggest I offer?"

    Hey, don't look at her like that. Fiorasprite wants to HELP, Homura is giving her something to HELP with while she thinks of something better and smarter to say.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
PP: Very well.
PP: Unfortunately the deal that you have offered is uneven.
PP: I do not have anything of equal value to offer.
PP: If I exist I will be sure to correct this in the future.
PP: If I do not then you have my apologies.
PP: For now I will give you the code for my gun.
PP: (CAPTCHA CODE)
PP: Please excuse me for a moment. Someone from your reality is attempting to interact with me.


The young man rises in reaction to Summer's attempt to interact with him from across time-space.

Your name is VERGIL. You are a meticulously collected individual with a powerful obsession with KNOWLEDGE and SUCCESS. Despite your young age, you have leveraged your IMPRESSIVE INTELLECT into great financial success. You have an UNCOMFORTABLE RELATIONSHIP with your MOTHER. Your success-oriented lifestyle never meshed well with her philosophies, and because of this you're not comfortable in your own skin.

VERGIL TURNER ejects an ELECTRONIC WHITEBOARD from his sylladex and evidently uses his expensive shades to write on it. Words begin to appear on the whiteboard.

Thank you for your concern, but I would prefer it if an outside party did not attempt to quantify my potentially tenuous existence in this manner. My identity is my own and I do not wish to be defined so powerfully by the actions of an individual so far out of my scope.

This simple statement seems to allow Vergil to ASSERT this quantum uncertainty of existence that lies between them, simply because it is his preference that the integrity of his current being (even if that is as a non-entity) is maintained. This is extremely odd.

Psyber (253) has posed:
Psyber points out to the Troll in Green that most things come back to bite him in the ass, so he's rather used to it. Both from a larger standpoint in his interactions as a whole, but also in the microcosm of this specific universe.

But Psyber does express some noted curiosity in a few points. The first being how can she be here if she's already died from his perspective, but had yet to die from hers? And doesn't this risk creating one of those fucked up 'We all die' scenarios that tend to wind up with a dead Vruasa?

But, more than that, Psyber has a greater question: If Session 613 isn't part of the angel of death's plan, does it serve a purpose aside from that? Or is its success merely a fortunate set of circumstance?

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The Grim Reaper stares back at Staren and withdraws his cup, expression suddenly... baleful? The tea is carefully set back down on the tray, though the nudge from Staren's gun clinks against the glass and causes it to spill some. The Reaper gestures ahead of them, towards the winding corridors ahead. The sound of a conversation taking place can be heard in the distance. Psyber's voice is one of the voices in the distance. Before they reach Psyber and his conversation partner however...

Additional visions swim up. Many different iterations of the Trolls and Kids that Staren is already familiar with. They are walking behind the Reaper and Staren, in enormous numbers. Some of them are familiar, having been seen at various points in history. A version of Vruasa who fell on a blade for Jack Noir is present, for instance. Doomed ghosts, all. It seems like some point is trying to be made, but what point might that be?

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The Troll in Green explains that she is in fact a Time player, after a fashion, very similar to the individual that Psyber is asking about dead versions of. Therefore, perceiving both her continued existence and her later death is hardly a concern. It simply means that he is witnessing her prior to her actual point of death. This doesn't bother her, because she already knows that she's going to die at the hands of a successor to her post, and that such an event is predestined. The fact that one more weirdo out in paradox space witnessed it has no real impact on anything.

She goes on to say that all Sessions have a purpose, but this one in particular is a standard session. Well, somewhat anyway. The people who came of it have a lot of things to get done before Paradox Space no longer has any use for them. Her Master's scheme (and she says the word 'Master' with great disdain) has nothing to do with any of it, but the scope of what is going on here is quite similar on two fronts.

The Handmaiden points out that Psyber's potential role is very similar to hers, or she wouldn't have bothered stopping to talk to him at all. She's mystified that he wants to keep on going like that?

Staren has posed:
    Staren turns to look for the source of the voices. Psyber?

    "What...?" Staren isn't sure what it all means.

    Visions. Voices. So, what's one more?

    Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see.

    "AAAH!" Staren's hands go to the sides of his head, clapping over his ears. Reflexively, he tries to turn the volume down, then mentally curses because he knows it won't work -- but it does.

    He stares into space as the rest of the message is transmitted. How is this even /possible/? That world hasn't /unified/ yet! "Lady Margaret? ...H-hey!" Did the bees just insult his intelligence?! "We /solved/ this..." he mutters. "It's the Filth, isn't it? The filth is infecting everything and spreading. Joe Slater... how does knowing where it /started/ help? We can't go back and undo it..." Staren blinks as he remembers when he is... Is THAT why he's receiving the message? But, alternate timelines are bad... He shakes his head. "Yes, yes, I get it, he's a monster now, /so/?! Will finding him and killing him make it all stop?"

    Staren stands there muttering to himself like he's completely lost it.

    Finally the voice stops, and Staren pays attention to his surroundings again. He looks at the ghosts...

    And shakes his head. "Yeah, I don't get it." He activates his wings and flies out a window and down to the lowest above-water level to see what's down there.

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Summer pulls out a bit of lipstick. If they can't hear each other, and have to communicate between non-verbal means. Or at least that is her guess.

     And so she writes in lipstick on the wall.

     'Are you sure about this? If there is a chance of making you more real, it'd make things a lot less annoying for all of us.'

     She sighs. This is far more complicated than it seemed at first.

Fiora O'Brien has posed:
    Fiorasprite seems to either ignore, or listen to and not respond to the apologies. They're empty words to her. The REQUEST FOR HELP, however, is met with... A curious look. "Something of worth, of course. Here, since I'm a sprite, I have a riddle for you."

    "What's small and rocky and something I have? YOU HAVE THREE GUESSES!"

    In her right hand is the shard. It is a little BLOODY.

    She's holding it pretty tightly, and looking very EXPECTANTLY at Homura.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
Strictly speaking the degree to which I am real from your perspective is entirely academic. We cannot interact directly and although you seem to have some power to detect me and heal my injuries despite the tempo-spatial difference in our existences, it is highly distressing to me that you are doing so for reasons I cannot articulate.

Please stop.

I want to be me, not what you think I am.

Vergil actually looks incredibly distressed at what is happening right now. Why is this so important to him? Either way, there's something pushing back at Summer incredibly hard now. As a matter of fact, it is at this point that he returns to Arthur briefly.

PP: PB. If you are in contact with this person attempting to heal me, please get them to stop.
PP: This hurts on a scale of measurement that I cannot possibly articulate to you.


Psyber (253) has posed:
This part is pulled out into specific words, because the exact content is as important as the general message. Psyber replies to the Handmaiden:

"I continue because I provide a heat sink for idealism," He says to the Troll in Green, "My actions, destructive as they are, and though many would view them as demonic in nature, provide a necessary counter-balance to those around me. By being who I am, I enable many of those around me to encounter true horror and not have their personal beliefs tainted. In essence, I am willfully the border existant on the edge between light and dark that serves as separation between the two. By virtue of my continuance, I allow the light to shine unhindered."

He pauses for a moment, taking a long drag from his cigarette, "Necessary evil is balanced by unnecessary goodness. Therefore, my actions enable many to find their 'third solution', so to speak. Or to remain pure in their intentions and beliefs." He seems to have put a lot of thought into this question of 'Why keep going on like that?', "In this way, I provide something many people need, though they may not want. I will take the necessary action because there will often come a time when others cannot."

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Summer basically stops trying to revive him the moment she started writing, anyways. Either way, she writes again.

     'Well, in that case, whatever. I'll leave you be. Are you guys able to make us see you though, or is it unintentional on your end. It's kind of freaking some of us out.'

     She pauses, then writes more.

     'Also, we'll be out of here once we find pieces of this slab thing. Are you already talking to my friend about this, though?'

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    "Erm."

    This is awkward, but if she isn't being crazy anymore.

    "Something of worth?"

    No reaction.

    "A bloody stone?"

    No reaction.

    "The rock we came here for?"

    This probably won't help with the scepter, but that is something Vruasa and Arthur can handle, she figures, if MM doesn't make a price known himself. Homura fidgets, awaiting Fiora's confirmation. Or outburst. Or both.

Arthur Lowell has posed:
PB: Well, I won't argue that, you know better than I do.
PB: And I guess if you do exist
PB: I'll appreciate anything you feel like doing that way.
PB: Thanks for the code.
PB: I'll do something good with it.
PB: And I told her to stop.
PB: We don't have the right classpect combos on hand to do this right.
PB: I don't think doing it would be right in the first place.
PB: You do your stuff, man.
PB: Good luck. The walkthrough sucks but maybe it'll help.
PB: You take care of yourself.
PB: And the rest.

    He's far, far behind the rest of the group by now, thankfully. This means that there won't be any issue if he takes a moment to be weak, and awful, and miserable. This time was way worse than the last time, he realizes, and it causes him to wrap his arms around himself, leaning against the wall, shuddering a bit. AS IT TURNS OUT: Contacting your dead parents in an alternate timeline while you have horrible memories and traumas related to them, and not even getting the right dad, will seriously fuck you up in terms of stress! Who would have thought it?

    Arthur would. Right now, specfically, is when he would.

Fiora O'Brien has posed:
    "NO! WRONG! WRONG WRONG WRONG! ALL WRONG!" Fiorasprite yells, before drawing a BUST OF SYLVESTER STALLONE, and THROWS IT TO THE GROUND.

    It shatters into a million pieces, which all swiftly are caught by stopped-time, in the act of shooting everywhere.

    "As a consolation prize, here, have the thing you obviously want."

    She floats over, and jams a MACGUFFIN into Homura's gut before floating off.

    Right through a wall, and disappearing.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The CAPTCHA code that Arthur was given is not a high-level item. It is a plastic gun from an ARCADE RAIL SHOOTER. This is however fairly useful, because if combined with another weapon that uses ammunition it can be reloaded instantly and without limit by pointing it at the periphery of one's vision and firing.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
In following IVULST THRULM's phantom into the depths of the dwelling spire, Mizuki finds herself in a ROOM. There is a statue of an AMPHIBIOUS HUMANOID in the middle, all made up of clockwork. A mysterious white orb crackling with green energy powers it. The Sea Troll asks it: How do I prevent more of these lowblood rabble from assuming powers and traits that are not theirs to possess? The scenery around her fades, several windows into other times and locations opening up. Several COCOON-LIKE carvings have been rigged with explosives.

IVULST THRULM presses a button and they all explode into useless rubble. Something unusual happens with one of them, however...

It bears the symbol of a SKULL on its center, and when it explodes a gigantic array of miniature spatial portals in a spirograph pattern open up and scatter the debris well beyond the reach of the cocoon's original resting place. The pieces resemble an assortment of ROCKS.

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    What is that even.

    And then the bust shatters.

    Fiorasprite slaps the prize onto Homura's chest, and she barely manages to catch it before-- Fi just kind of fucks off. Through a wall. Yeah she can't really follow her.
    Now she feels kind of bad for asking for help.

    On the other hand, rock get?
    AND scepter get maybe? That's still pending.

    She shoots MM an email back.
    It roughly states "Sorry about that. Did not die. Do you have a price in mind? Something you would really like? Or are you only in it for the money?"

    She also UNSTOPS TIME because... well, there's no point now.

Fiora O'Brien has posed:
    Upon UNSTOPPING TIME...

    Homura gets a bunch of THE ROCK ROCKS scattered all over her feet. And around her. She could probably salvage it with some glue. Or TIME POWERS.

    Also, the club falls to the ground and sprays blood everywhere. It's really messy.

    HA HA HA, HOMURA AKEMI, NOW YOU ARE DIRTY.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The ghosts and visions do not follow Staren. He abandons his visions and flees the Dwelling Spire, and finds himself floating, not alone, near the bottom of the spire. VRUASA TELASH is here, but he seems rather indecisive about something. A trollian window is opened in his mechanical eye to whichWitch, the handle he assumes Fiorasprite will assume control of. But, he hasn't messaged it yet. Privately, he doesn't even want to. But he continues floating there in eerie silence, the first few letters of a half-hearted greeting blinking in the instant messenger window.

Vruasa looks towards Staren and frowns.

"Did you find the fucking rock?" He demands.

Staren has posed:
    Staren blinks, a bit taken aback. "I... I thought it would be down here. ...Did you already look inside?" If not, he flies in the nearest window to check. If so... Then he'll fly back up, he guesses? Oh hey Homura found it. Maybe.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The Handmaiden considers Psyber in silence for a short while. A long while, actually. By the time she chooses to make any sort of response, her cigarette has almost gone out. A long trail of ash tumbles to the ground, and by the time it's hit the floor the troll in green has disappeared from sight. She leaves behind the trail of ashes, which can be taken to be an ominous response in and of itself...

Vruasa Telash has posed:
Vergil Turner begins to answer Summer... but quite abruptly, he fades out of existence. Notably there is no loss of "life" involved, and the general signature of his existence seems to linger in approximately the same area she occupies. Spatially it appears consistent. On the pesterchum end of things, Arthur finds that his conversation partner has LOST HIS INTERNET CONNECTION.

Remember when that was a thing? When abrupt connection lost could get everybody brutally murdered due to a lack of communication ability? It's back, and you have absolutely no control over it.

Again.

This is the worst Land ever.

Psyber (253) has posed:
"Well," Psyber says, tapping out his cigarette and then dropping it to the ground and snuffing it under foot, "We're two for two on 'this place has weird visions', and I think I'm not quite sure where it's leading me, but it's definitely somewhere fucked up."

Psyber slowly sprouts wings from his back and then just heads to fly back to the ship at this point.

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Summer sighs.

     This really is the worst land ever.

     Plus she just know this tower probably has countless flights of stairs.

     Oh god there better not be a Land of Stairs later. That might be worse.

     Still, though, she sighs. Hopefully, Scythe the Salamander has had better luck rounding up a CONSORT POSSE OF JUSTICE.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The MEANDERING MERCHANT takes a while to get back to Homura. This is deliberate, and meant to make her think that maybe he's got a different offer. His email states simply that he would like something if equivalent value to the Scepter, but without the danger of being a world-annihilating artifact that everybody is going to want to kill him to take.

It's gotta be good. Gotta be real good.

This is as specific as he gets. Apparently he can't actually imagine something awesome enough. Maybe you should alchemize something cool that a merchant could use?

Mizuki (183) has posed:
    Whenever one has face-to-face encounters with the past, it is never, ever pleasant, is it?

    Mizuki is fairly certain she just witnessed the mass genocide of a specific caste. As much as she might be put off by that act, though, she doesn't show for it; rather, her somewhat wider eyes meander to the cocoon adorned with the skull just in time to notice the spatial lattice, complete with all the debris hopping into them as though the portals were some variety of celestial catchers' mitts. Though when they finally come to a halt, they organize in another... pattern. Meaningful? Probably not, but she has heard of maps being made with plastic straws and discarded toys in the sands of deserts before, so one should never discount the meaningfulness of might-be clues.

    And discount she does not. Before she would move on she would take note of the positions of the stones, their appearances, and other such qualitatives. Then, provided she can, she would reach out to take one just in case any of them had, perhaps, found their way of transcending their epoch-constrained existences. Whether her various attempts succeed or fail, though, she would shrug, giving the room a final, thorough looking-over before moving onward, mindful of any more phantoms that may appear.

    Oh, and she may mention her findings on the radio. Just in case anyone, you know, has heard of any Troll Holocausts happening recently.

Vruasa Telash has posed:
The chunks of the QUEST COCOON can't be touched. They're not physically real here, and it doesn't seem like Mizuki can physically intersect with the past here. She may be able to approximately determine where they're GOING, though. Or perhaps she might determine where they will go, at some point in the future. Those portals are nearly identical to Arthur's. Just a lot smaller. The others don't display this mechanism occurring around them, so for some reason the skull-marked cocoon is definitely special. But special how? At any rate, it certainly looks like the fragments are ROCKS, even if she can't retrieve them from where she's at.

Homura Akemi (2) has posed:
    Something of equal value but without the risks attached to a super artifact... now that she thinks about it, the way this game works...

    Homura answers MEANDERING MERCHANT: "How about the genuine frozen body of a god-tier seadweller troll? I bet you could figure out something to do with it, or sell it to someone who knows how to do fancy stuff with corpses like suck the powers out. Comes with the fridge to keep it cool."

Summer Powers (441) has posed:
     Summer just... Turns back, and heads to the ship now.

     She completely forgot about her Salamander and he's likely going to remain on this planet after they leave.

     This might be bad.