Scene #6303: OFF - Zone 1

Owner	Pose
Priscilla	At no other occasion than at exactly the right time and exactly the right place, the shifting web of the warpgate network finds its way to the Nothingness again. Rather, those that have been there once, find their way there again. It's an understanding; implicit without words or signs. It's time again now, for whatever measure of meaning time has. Fresh again through the bewildering space outside of space, walking without walking through the spreading fractals of vaguely coloured floral nothings, borne along by whispers that try not to be heard, the plain white dot that somehow contains the totality of Zone 1 takes them right back to it. The Queen's Inspector should be ready n--- world map? Taking the long climb up the dusty ladder, each metallic step echoing in the vacant, smoggy shaft, you ascend to an altitude of more agreeable aroma and breathable texture, yet somehow less potent air, resulting in a brief few moments of feeling as if you're short of breath. You emerge blinking into the somber light of Zone 1's continuing dour and moody rain, showered again with a spitting drizzle of cold plastic and party to the distant sounds of a churning ocean, clumping through samey green metal towards the sight of civilization. On the other side of the mines, there are fences everywhere. Fences that surround what appears to be an inland lake of plastic, for certainly falling in must not be terribly safe, but fences surrounding the path of softer, viridian sand, as opposed to the forest green metal pushed aside it, fences outside of the wider, squatter, almost warehouse-style buildings, and fences dividing up broad stretches of field, almost like pasture. A lot like pasture. Squinting into the rainy distance, peering through the depressing rain and listening for the nervous quiet, you spot the unmistakable shapes of cows roaming the fields in the distance. Though their spots and splotches are shades of steely grey rather than their classical mottle of iconic black and white, they're clearly living livestock, milling about their emerald fields of finely groomed 'soil', grazing fluffy croppings of feathered crystal that at least looks like grass. Of course, they're attended to by the very picture of a depressingly dispirited cubicle dweller, copypasted over and over again until a swarm of suit-and-tie dressed nobodies fills out an entire ranch. Rakes and hoes and watering cans can be seen stacked alongside bales of wire and palettes of tied packages, at least looking the part, but the sight is surreal nonetheless. One the farmers(?) notices you climbing out of the mineshaft immediately, already intensely confused by the sight, his mind almost unable to process it. "W . . . What? Did you come from the smoke mines?" he asks in an identical nervously sighing tone as the mine operator had. "Yes." says the Batter. "But . . . But . . . But there are loads of spectres down there . . ." he stutters. "Yes." comes the equally nonchalant, almost amused reply. "Are you a spectre?" "No." "Then who are you? Have you been sent by the Queen? Or by Dedan?" "No." "But . . . But . . . But . . . You still know how to fight the spectres? You . . . You could destroy them?" "Yes." It's almost like a game now. "Oh. That . . . That would be great . . . We . . . We have . . . uh . . . spectres in our big barns." "Barns?" "Ah . . . uh . . . yes . . . Uhm . . . You're at the metal farmsteads of Pentel, the eastern part of Zone 1."
Priscilla	Then, just like the mine worker, this farm worker produces his own sheaf of papers; no doubt an equally convoluted set of regulations in of themselves. These grainy, hand-sketched, poorly photocopied papers include diagrams up and down of cows, external, internal, anatomical, and of various butchers cuts and dotted lines, however it also contains detailed reference images of a myriad of what are clearly ores. What should correspond to the flank, striploin, sirloin, and similar cuts, are instead given labels of zinc, iron, silver, and such. "Our work consists of cutting livestock in two and extracting the metallic boulders that were contained in the cadavers. All the poor quality metal is discarded, forming the ground we walk on. The rest gets purified to make tools and other objects with. Some of it is also put into crates and sent to the other Zones, so they have tools and soil as well, I suppose . . . As the first of four elements . . . it's an important element. Because without metal, people would have nothing to walk on. They would sink and drown." The regulations go away again. "There . . . And thus we have spectres too . . . in the large barns. It would be nice of you to take care of them fast, because the Queen's inspector is going to arrive at any moment." the tie-wearing palebody finally coughs, now nervously twiddling his thumbs, shaking just to the faintest degree. "So . . . Could you please take care of the barns?" It multiplies. There had been a warpgate in the corner before. Anyone that had seen it could be positive that was so. They'd also be positive that, aside from the fact they had a different number of people just a second(?) ago, it'd been a week since they were here last, so why is their smoke still in their lungs, fatigue set into their muscles, cuts and bruises and blisters on their bodies, and the lingering remnants of migraines still in their heads? It's still raining. You didn't think it'd be that simple, did you? This is a sacred mission.
Aoko Aozaki	Huh. Déjà vu. Aoko glances about, then at her own palms, to ascertain that this is not, in fact, Her Fault this time, unlike the several prior times. No, she definitely didn't... well, the headache, sure, but that shouldn't have... Weird. "Alright, anyone else just get the creeping feeling in your bones that you just traveled back in time a week and it's not the fun kind of time travel, it's the kind where you become week-ago you?" Well, you know, if someone here is going to have the hands-on experience to pick apart how different kinds of time travel feel... "Soooo, everyone in favor of tactical nuking that barn out of existence? Raise your hands!" Aoko raises both hands. "Easy way out, anyone?"
Gilgamesh	LAST TIME Gilgamesh was going to come when he got the mental summon, but he was in the middle of learning how to play 'Twister' with Enkidu. Enkidu cheats. Gilgamesh didn't have the heart to call it out. Regardless, playing Twister with your friend is much more important than some strange, obligatory nonsense, so he had ignored it, in much the same way that one might ignore a particularly irritating cell phone call - by pretending it wasn't there until it went away. THIS TIME Gilgamesh is immediately assaulted by the mines and finds this thoroughly unacceptable. A sweet-smelling cloth wraps around his mouth as he rises. He doesn't even bother to climb the ladder. Climbing is for peasants. He brought his own ladder. It's solid gold. And it keeps extending. So Gilgamesh just stands on the ladder, wearing a casual, open-shirt outfit from his CASGIL line, rising past everyone else like the unbearably smug prettyboy he is. He steps out into the plastic as the ladder disappears, and again, finds this unacceptable, so he produces a glimmering umbrella. It hovers above him, repelling the plastic away from the King, gleaming like a UFO. The temperature is mildly cold, so he also pulls out elemental fire, letting it dangle beside him as he walks. The King listens to the exchange with the bored look of a King dealing with commoners. While he's waiting around, he pulls out a glowing silver yo-yo and starts playing with it, red runes scribbled on the outside, glowing ominously. Aoko speaks. "This isn't a democracy," Gilgamesh points out, "After all, I'm here." "However, I give you permission, if you like, beautiful mage. Go ahead and destroy it."
Starbound Flotilla	"Lotta number ones around here." George says, already chatting with the farm worker. It's like he never left. Considering his boiled armor, it's /especially/ as if he never left. He pears at the papers dryly, hands laced behind his head, and smiles in an easygoing way. "Whelp, you guys heard the man." He says, turning to the rest as if they hadn't left in the first place. "Top important element facilities in there, better get 'em cleared." He gives Aoko a well-meaning and positive laugh. "Hahaha! You know, normally I'd agree, but then, where would they keep their cows? And I bet the inspector would /really/ not like that, y'know. Aren't you here to help these guys?" He leans his head a bit and winks, before taking the cigarette out of his mouth and breathing a plume of smoke that smells like a hospital in her direction, as if failing to blow out a dangerous fire. "Isn't the sacred mission you're on meant to help the people around here? Or are you thinking of doing something else? I mean, I sure won't tell you not to blow things up just to get rid of the ghosties if that's what you're thinking."
Thomas Alva Edison	"Yes," Thomas Alva Edison says, getting the review of the pamphlet they got last week, once more getting a chance to try and make actual sense of the information, or if anything of value was coming from the explanation of the drone. He takes a moment to process it... "Oh. Because meat is high in iron...I get it..." And then he frowns. The knowledge once more does not sit well with him...it is becoming more and more clear that it very much feels like the world, or at least the rules of it, come from the mind of someone simple...or perhaps even a child. Well, the liquid of the world being plastic, was a bit out of it, why would it be... Unless the container for all of the liquid he knew came in a plastic... His thoughts were disrupted by someone threatening to blow the Barn up. "Wait what? No, don't do that, this is these people's lively hoods." he looks towards Gilgamesh, "Would YOU simply blow up your people's ability to make tools to farm their land and produce food?" He says looking towards Ayoko, deciding that he's going to place himself in the way between barn and her. All things considered, probably the second worst life decision he may have ever made, especially as his body continues to suffer from injuries long thought gone, and his exhasution from the point after those last series of battles.
August Kohler	This is too odd. August could have sworn it'd been a while, and that he'd taken the warpgate out, gone, did other things. He'd robbed a bank in this time! But he's clearly here, with the Batter, covered in blood and hurting and exhausted. He could still fight...but this wasn't what he expected, for sure. "Okay, fuck this world, I can't wait until it's purified." August mutters, clearly annoyed. When Aoko suggests to nuke the barn, August seems tempted, before turning to Aoko. "No, but not because it's a barn, but because I'm frustrated enough I want to personally just murder some spectres. You know that feeling, right? Just...wanting to hit something when you're angry, usually doing it through video games." And then, taking a breath, August turns to the palebody. "Fine. We'll clear out the spectres, part of the job, right?. Let's go, everyone." And if everyone's willing to in-fact listen to him, August will ask for directions to the specific barns, and then head in that direction. He has ghosts to set on fire.
Yuuki Kuran	There is no Deja Vu. Yuuki has not 'been to this place before' (HIGHER ON THE STREET, AND I KNOW IT'S MY TIME TO GO), becuase to the Normal Girl never left. She had been waiting here, like she said she would, the whole time. It felt like a long time, and no time it all. MEANWHILE Hanabusa Aido paces around a fire-warmed manor room in the snowy mountains, tearing his perfect hair out. "WHERE DID SHE GOOOOOOO?! SHE HAD MEETINGS!" To a barbie plastic world, Aido. BACK HERE "So... you mine cows. That's..." Yuuki's deadened brown eyes droop. "So interesting..." She had been having the conversation, in that nothing space of time, about the forms. All the forms. In details. Then the barn opened, and she felt... like it was all right there? She remembered! Weeks! Week? Day? Hours? Seconds? How long had she been here? "Zero? My head feels... awful. Like that migrane beam, and..." She checks her wristwatch, with its face broken. Oh, right, the fight. She pulls out her smartphone and the top of the screen has a dark crack spidering gooey rainbows on the inside of broken glass. "Zero did we leave? I was going to wait, but I... Oh I think I'm going to throw up." The plastic rain continues to turn her delicate stomach and unease her throbbing head.
Zero Kiryu	Zero Kiryu didn't like the smell of this place before, and he isn't pleased when the taste of it hits him again and he suddenly feels as if he's taken a metaphysical beating. Not a terrible one, but one all the same. There's the plastic again, too. He's in the middle of closing up his coat when Aoko makes her proposal. He glances towards her, and then towards the barn. "... According to prior circumstances," he replies, "it's likely that such a solution is a suboptimal approach." "Those problems are for the Batter. Our role is..." He shrugs, loosely. "Kohler." He says, though he doesn't appear to be objecting. "'Purified' how?" The hunter's attention is drawn away from August by Yuuki. Zero moves alongside her and draws an arm around her shoulders, making certain that she doesn't get unsteady even if she's about to be ill. "Possibly," he says, "don't concern yourself with it for the moment. I don't feel especially good either, but..." But I'm accustomed to being ill.
Priscilla	The farm worker stares at Yuuki with his beady little black eyes, surrounded with the grey of exhaustion on his pallid skin. "N . . . no. We farm cows. Mining cows . . . wouldn't make any sense. Cows don't . . . have smoke in them, you see." Talk of destroying the barns completely starts happening, and he very visibly begins to fidget, quickly shaking like a leaf in intense anxiety. With those for the eye/nose for physiological reactions like that, he seems less nervous about Gilgamesh nuking his workplace as whatever he expects to come after that. "Please don't destroy the barns. We need . . . well, it's out jobs, so . . . the Inspector . . ." His nervous wheezing sounds like the early stages of hyperventilation at this point. "My only concern is purifying the spirits." the Batter says, clearly without preference, else patience to hide his nature or assuage the underlings. "A . . . ah, please don't throw up in the barns either. Cleaning it up will delay the inspection. If the Queen's Inspector is unhappy, we might be fired. I don't want to work in the mines. This work isn't what I'd prefer, but at least you can profit from the outside air . . . and if I do my job well enough, I might get transferred to Alma. I don't want a black mark on my permanent record . . ." Going further beyond the Pentel tram station, you quickly find yourselves walking surprisingly tight, pale green dirt roads winding between rows upon rows of metal-fenced pastures and squat farm buildings, slaughterhouses, and storage facilities, recognizable for their industrial character even while being so minimalist and cubic. You can immediately verify the farm worker's claims when the building adjacent to the barn complex in question has ranks of cow carcasses lined up against the wall, suspended by chains as if they were sheets of fabric, chopped nearly down the middle so that you have a full cross-sectional view of the entire cow. Workers wearing rubber gloves make all sorts of less than delightful squelching noises as they stick their hands inside, removing chunks the size of pebbles up to entire boulders of iron, nickel, silver, osmium, tungsten, quartz, silicon, and whatever else seems to have grown in place of the cow's actual organs, seemingly nothing more than a meaty organic container for metal and minerals, with just the muscles and bones necessary to move around and graze. "We shouldn't get attached to the animals . . ." one of the nearly identical workers says to one who appears to be new on the job. "Once you are, it's difficult to put your hands inside. Don't give them names. Also, we must closely watch their nutrition to ensure high quality metal."
Priscilla	The barn itself is about as boring as can be. As claimed, it's not very big either, only two storeys tall and not large enough to play a real game of football inside, with the area around it predominantly filled with high stacks of processed metallic lumps from a smoke-belching factory right next to it. The point that stands out is that the viridian hue of Zone 1 is abruptly clashed against by an impolitely bright yellow cube, set with a big silver button, as if it'd come straight out of Zone 0, albeit without any function for keycards. The Judge had said something about poor taste in colours and cubes before which was somewhat meaningful at the time. None of the farmers seem to pay it any mind, going about as if they don't even realize it's there. The inside, however, is inexplicably purple, just like the mines underground, and dingily lit with the same wan radiance of pale plastic gas lamps. It doesn't take a prophet to catch sight of the Spectres here; they're wandering around in plain sight. Big, fat, floating blobs of ectoplasm with huge, gaping maws and empty, staring holes for eyes, with barely more than stubs for arms. Looking on, you can see one drift over to a cow munching fibrous threads of crystal in its trough, pick it up by its tiny arms, and 'distend' its bottomless mouth to slowly cram the entire cow through it in one piece, disappearing into its maw like a magic trick. It does something like a burp afterward. You can tell because a speech bubble saying 'burp!' appears over its head . . . and then stays there as it wanders away. As far as you can tell, there are only a handful in here; not exactly hard work.
Aoko Aozaki	"Ahaha, thank you, king!" Aoko grins, though ultimately defers to the opinions of others and nods. "Well, manual works too. Let's deal with this, then!" Onward it is. On the way, she does produce chatter though. "SO, anyone else notice the miners claimed smoke was the most important element, and these guys are saying metal is? No, more than that, anyone else notice the air here isn't smoke, and the ground elsewhere sure wasn't cow-metal? I think these people have a few screws missing, or someone's convinced them of some absurd things and is making mad profit off their operations." Although, cow-metal just sounds inefficient. Not exactly profitable. She could've lived without seeing that cross-section though. Geez, what's WRONG with this place? No, it's not weird exactly it's... well, this is the kind of stuff that'd normally happen as a result of magical pollution or something similar. Even the specters are off-key here. "The speech bubble is a bit much," she notes, looking at the small, wandering specters. She elects to ignore the offensively out of place cube, instead snaping two fingers to produce a handful of bright blue spheres over her shoulders, which remain there for the time being. "So, standard response, or does someone want to try science at the ghosts before we light them up?"
Starbound Flotilla	Yuuki gets a cheerful bit of chatter. "Wanting to throw up just means your body still wants to keep itself healthy! Worry more if you're in a bad place and you /don't/ feel that way! It is pretty impure here, after all." George wanders by the strung-up cows, peeking with one open eye at the minerals. As always, he's got a miner's eye for these sorts of things. The specter gets a grossed look, one that gets increasingly grossed as he watches it devour a cow whole. Ugh, just like that frontier station. Gross! He loads up that hefty boltgun, cocking it dramatically. "Alright, Batter. I'm sure these guys are gonna be super grateful for you clearing this mess out. You got my back? Can you give me a Wide Angle on these sons of bitches?" He says, going along with the mood and the lingo. "I'll wait on President Science over there if he's got something, but we ought'a get this done before the inspector gets here, y'know?" George says, checking to one side to see if Edison has an idea. If not, or once he's done, he flicks a switch on his industrial tool. A flywheel in his gun spins up, as he slams the faceplate of his armor down and heads in, intent on driving massive bolts through the flabby bodies of the ghosts and pinning them to the ground to try to make it easy for the Batter to strike, as well as striking at their big "lips" to pin the mouthes shut, or perhaps at least pin the gross fat lips over teeth to reduce damage if that's an option. He leaves the speech bubble alone! Let's hope there isn't a mimic in there.
Gilgamesh	People complain at Aoko's plan. Gilgamesh, who is still playing with his stupid yo-yo, doesn't care. When someone else decides to take the lead, he contemplates just nuking the barn anyway, but - ehn, that'd be work. Instead he snaps his fingers, and a stone tablet with glowing runes hanging above it falls into his hand. He'll just let them do whatever they want to do. 'Don't get attached to the animals. Don't give them names.' It's like hearing his own philosophy on humans. That makes him smile, though it's not a particularly nice smile, as he brings up the rear of the group, his yo-yo spinning against the ground. The inexplicable purple inside is an interesting touch. The floating blobs of ectoplasm get an eyebrow raise. He gives August a not-nice smile. "Well. After you." He waves his yo-yo hand imperiously, rolling it along the runes hovering above the tablet. "The King grants you permission." August finds himself surrounded by ancient Babylonian sigils. They burn white in the air before they lock in, attaching themselves to August in various spots for a push of strength. Then the King... ...goes right back to playing with his yo-yo. Into the face of one of the ectoplasmic entities. It's very hard to tell if it was on purpose, or if he's just that apathetic. ...it does a lot more damage than a yo-yo should, though.
Aoko Aozaki	Once the science is done (if any) and George gives the go-ahead, Aoko's spheres pulse, and release their uninspired but ever efficient payload of bright blue laser death onto one of the specters.
Thomas Alva Edison	Edison walks with the party, but the questions are brought up, "Well, going down the list here...yes, I did notice that. It could be simply bias, everyone thinks their job is the most important, after all. Smoke being air I think might be because the person constructing this world may not have a gasp on how air forms, but instead maybe assuming based on observation...I mean, looking at a factory, seeing smoke rise into the air, one might think that is where air comes from." "Cows having iron in them makes sense too, from a simpler mindset. If you are told 'eat your meat, it has iron in it and it's good for you' you think 'oh so iron comes from cows, so there has to be mining cows'. Plastic...that's the one that gets me. I can guess on that one, but...without more information I can't be certain if it's a hypthosis." he says, witha shrug, "I mean, how many of you have seen a clear liquid in a plastic container?" he asks, seeing if anyone can follow his thought train. Edison turns his head to the spectres...blinking. "Well, that's disturbing.." he says, with a frown, "Well, I am not a biologist, or spectrist. Maybe if we get a sample of their body I can put it through testing when we get back?" he offers, before drawing out a weapon... "The Autosyringe should be perfect for this...as it was uh, far too powerful to be using in a Hospital setting, it seems to be more effective on the field!" he says, and smacks a spectre with it, hopefully to get some...spectre...juice... Blood? Ectoplasm? Please don't be weird.
August Kohler	Responding to Zero over the radio, telling him that purification involves 'killing the monsters and then hopefully never having to deal with this bullshit again', When they approach the barn, August is cautious, and sort of grossed out watching the cow 'farming'. He forces himself to keep going, before reaching the barn. The button is interesting, but August has monsters to kill. Inside is weird, and purple, and the monsters are gross and August hates them. Others want to do science on the spectres, so August waits for Edison to use his syringe, before moving to fire. As Gilgamesh says that he grants permission, he gets a "Yeah, whatever." from the redhead, who clearly doesn't seem to actually care, but isn't going to start a fight over someone else's attitude when they're working together. And then the sigils float in. They attach to August, and he momentarily is confused, before he can feel the surge of power. This should be helpful. Summoning his Persona through the mirror on his wrist, even though he's already drained, the Tin Soldier appears, still sporting injuries in its metal from last time. The boosts affect the Tin Soldier as well, the two beings united, and so it flies forward, moving o throw a decent punch at the spectre, pushed forward by the sigils! It's followed by a one-two jab, backed by the superhuman physique of the Persona. "Alright, guys. Let's tear it apart!"
Zero Kiryu	"Don't worry about it." Zero asides to the worker fussing about potential vomit in the barns. He's pretty certain that if it was really a problem, Yuuki would just scour it clean with force. He doesn't reassure anybody about the prospective results of dealing with the spectres, though. Enough of the people here have serious firepower behind them that he can imagine them getting blown up accidentally. He observes with interest the process of butchering the cows-- the metals that come out, and in particular can't help but find himself interested in the /complexity/ of the metals coming out. It's not what he'd expect of a child, really. Perhaps his initial hypothesis was off-base, but then... What else explains this place? A vaguely acknowledging noise rumbles out from the hunter in answer to Aoko's observations, "Yes. But... it's natural for people to assert that 'their' work is the most important work. Like teachers asserting that their subject is the most vital for students to learn. You might be on to something, but it doesn't have to be that complex, either..." He asides to George, "She isn't used to being sick." Zero once again sticks to the small moves, drawing a holdout pistol from the pocket of his coat and firing it from the hip towards one of the spectres he has a safe-ish angle on.
Yuuki Kuran	Please don't be sick in the barns. Full of dead metalcows that smell awful. With the light pitterpatter of smelly plastic rain. Well, that's helpful advice as the group moves on, in a giant rabblestack, with the Batter as pristine and unmarred in his white uniform and smart ballcap as they first met him. And the multiple bloody battles - one which Yuuki's head still smarted from. Zero's reassurance steadies her, as it steadied her minutes (a week) ago, when she first got the terrible migrane. "Zero... aren't you always sick, though?" George offers support, though, in a smart set of words, which cause Yuuki to smile - to laugh, despite her sore headcase. "But... George, I never get sick. I've never been sick in my life, just... normal-feeling. Now, it's all heaped together, and it's like it's stuck at the back of my throat... It's awful." But George is on top of things, cocking his big handgonne. "Alright, I'll go easy this time around and use Artemis, Zero. Just do like you did last time." Yuuki slides out from under his arm gingerly, drawing out a metallic baton that extends with a crackle into a long staff with a vague organic look to it, before... Heading up quickly to bat the scattered spirits towards the Batter with a two-fisted high sweep, putting her back into it not unlike... a baseball player. She's very braindead right now.
Priscilla	With as much critical examination as possible, the metal seems to be legit. It's an absolutely random assortment to be sure, of varying grades, qualities, admixtures, and formations so broad that they'd be better served by not calling them a 'selection' of metals so much as 'a wikipedia' of metals. What's left of the cows seems, undesirably, legitimate as well, despite basically just being muscles, skin, bones, and hunks of minerals. "Sure." the Batter says to George. The Batter used Wide Angle! Fat Spectre x5 Ominous ectoplasmic incarnation. Light weakness against smoke. Purification in Progres . . . Unlike the mines, there aren't enough spectres here to give you much trouble. Without the dark, the narrow corridors, the blind angles, and the sudden appearance of large swarms, it's a simpler matter to go bumping off the spectres one at a time, catching them in each set of pens, walled off from the others, and beating them senseless. Putting bolts through the Fat Spectres seems relatively effective in leaving them pinned and wiggling like thick ghostly caterpillars, holding them still for successive barrages of magic lasers, psychic punches, and gunshots beating them silly. It also provides ideal conditions for Edison to get a syringe in one, causing a nondescript, paper white sort of . . . gel? maybe? to balloon inside of it like liquid rubber, causing the spectre to shrink slightly as if he were trying to slurp it into a vacuum cleaner. One rounds a corner at just the wrong time and springs an ambush, but is stopped in its tracks by a killer magical yoyo to the face, dropping it instantly while the Batter makes methodical, almost hitman-esque rounds of moving from downed spectre to downed spectre and putting his bat through laser burn holes and big plastic fist imprints, splattering spectral blood all around the hay-less floor. While wiggling and bouncing and chomping at thin air, pinned to the ground and walls, speech bubbles fly from the Fat Spectres mouths, imprinting "Ah Ah!"s on the air until clouds of semi-laughing exclamations fills portions of each pen like blobs of balloons. When Yuuki uses Artemis this time, it takes the top off the bottom of one of the ectoplasmic creatures instantly, leaving pitch black 'internals' visible and spraying wine dark blood across the floor, where the ghost slumps over and plonks to the ground with an unceremonious thump. It looks that all the spectres are dead without a fuss, just long enough to relax, before the speech bubbles themselves, left behind in lieu of their speakers, swoop down from their proper slightly-above-head-level places and attempt to skewer people with their tails; apparently the comical exclamations are, in of themselves, spectres that look like speech bubbles, or at least some kind of spectral spawn. Almost knowingly, the glowing Add-On begins taking them out right away, blasting them to pieces with minimal effort, until the last few swings from the Batter clean house before anyone has to use any more time here.
Priscilla	Scouring around the barn, it definitely was a simple and quick job, just like the farm . . . guy promised. The standard unit of boxy, colour coordinated chests seem to be tucked into a corner in a pile, most filled with actual farming supplies (or at least, things like fertilizer, oddly), but a couple no doubt have items. Past that, there's three bisected cows hanging on the wall at the back. Two have already been processed, left only as fleshy shells. One seems to have been freshly chopped in half, its heart, lungs, liver, even brains still grotesquely on display, shining wetly in the unhealthy light. There is a set of stairs leading to a basement, but there aren't any sounds of spectres audible from above. What is audible instead is a commotion outside. The pleading, anxious sighing of a high strung, tie wearing farm drone, and a second voice that sounds almost bestial for its uncommonly high basic level of colourful, unrestrained pissed off-ness, like every word is some kind of growl. "I . . . I . . . I . . . I am . . . really . . ." "Shut your trap, you poor moron." "No . . . I . . . Yes . . ." "Have they been in there for long?" "I . . . I don't know . . ." "Of course. You know nothing. I couldn't guessed." "He will . . . They will eliminate . . . The spectres . . ." "And why do they think they're capable of destroying those stupid phantoms? They think they're better than you! Better than the Queen!" "No . . . No, I don't think that . . ." "Shut it. I haven't asked you anything. You all think you're smarter than everyone else, but you're all the same. At any rate, that's hardly important. The ghosts will erase those prigs." "I . . . Ah? You think . . . they won't succeed?" "Of course not. Nobody here's capable of fighting the phantoms, other than the Queen's officers. If you'd only listen to me more often, you wouldn't be in so much shit." "But . . . but then who . . . Who's going to destroy the phantoms?" "I could've done it. But now you don't deserve it. Too bad for you, you'll just have to take care of your problems yourselves." "I . . . I . . . No . . . P- . . . Please . . ." "I'll be leaving now. I'll be returning to Alma. At least the people there are polite. They ain't constantly cutting you off." "Pl- . . . Please . . . Don't . . ." "Piss off." "D- . . . don't-" "I command you. Get the fuck out of my way this instant, if you want to keep your job." The sounds of a brief bout of activity follow, then silence.
Gilgamesh	One of the weird little spectres cuts Gilgamesh across the face. Gilgamesh's response is almost vicious in how apathetic he is. He just crushes the little thing into the ground with his stone like it's an afterthought, brushing the blood off his face and walking out. He's already healing, not that he needs to - he always looks perfect. The commotion outside has him much more interested than the farm. This is boring grunt work. Any idiot can take care of this. August is dumb enough to want to do this the hard way, so let him. The King of Heroes will go outside to see what all the trouble is about. Who knows, maybe he'll get to kill something interesting.
Starbound Flotilla	George finishes off bolting these dudes straight into the metal of the barn, and when he's done, he even dramatically blows the steam off the red-hot muzzle of the driver. He spins it dramatically, even holstering it like a cowboy in a western, when one of the speech bubbles descends. It's right about to skewer George dramatically, in a way that his armor just wouldn't have any way to deal with. But his armor thrums with power. There's a rush of crackling energy. And with an abrupt flicker, George isn't being skewered. He didn't teleport, or even dodge. The speech balloon isn't parried or blocked. But rather, it's more like George leaned to one side in a motion he was already doing, to get a cigarette in his mouth, and was just already out of the way. He flicks his industrial bolt-driver back out of the holster and blasts the speechbubble, then uses the blisteringly hot muzzle of the gun to light his fresh cigarette. There's a loud CHUNK-CLINK as two small cartridges of DEPLETED REFINED HYPERGLASS eject out of ports on his shoulders. He heads out. "Looks like we were a little too late to clean up for the chief, guys." He says, sheepishly. "Too bad. You think we can go get that inspector to take the black mark off the farmer's sheet? I think maybe we owe the guy." George has a tone of light playfulness to that idea. He also wraps up his talk with Yuuki. "Around here, everything's a new experience and a weird experience. Try to run with it. Look for the meaning in the sickness, the parallels and the feelings. This place, doesn't it feel a little like it's got a fever? You're someone who's pretty often running into novel stuff. Why not keep on with this the same way you do with the rest?" He winks a bit, and continues on out to chat with the worker.
Thomas Alva Edison	It's weird. Edison looks at the container of...stuff, he has now. With a sign, he puts it away, because now that's going to haunt his dreams...well, would if he had to sleep. Reguardless, this leads up for one of the speach bubbles to cut him, only before the Batter dismisses the rest of the Spectres with the swing of his bat. Frowning, the man of science, wipes his face, before hearing the commotion outside. Especially the part about them, and the man shirking his duties. Frowning, he turns around around the same time Gilgamesh does. Marching to leave the Barn the same way they came in, hopefully trying to catch this man before he actually can leave.
Zero Kiryu	Zero Kiryu quickly moves out of the way of the oncoming speech bubbles, Yuuki having resumed her own footing. It might've occurred to him to drag her out of the way too, but the action was too reflexive to think it through before it was done. He takes his place at her flank again, but unless she displays some sort of wobbliness or requests it in some way, he simply lets her keep walking on her own. "Yeah," he says, tucking his holdout pistol away, "most of the time. It's still an impairment, but over a long enough period of time you learn how to compensate when it's necessary to do so." His head turns slightly towards the entrance, and the sounds of conversation out on the other side. Gilgamesh is the first to go handle that-- and the hunter takes the opportunity to address matters closer at hand. "Yuuki." He looks back at her, "Do you need something to get you past the nausea?" "And..." Zero turns his head slightly again, "does that person sound a lot more like 'us' than everyone else here, to you?"
Aoko Aozaki	Aoko squints at Gilgamesh. "Is that a yo-yo?" No, hang on. She squints harder. "Is that a MYSTIC CODE yo-yo?" No, another pause. She creeps in closer. "Is that a NOBLE PHANTASM yo-yo?" She looks like she's seen heaven, enough so that when a spirit attempts to assault her she flicks it away with a vicious flare of blue fire, such that it barely grazes her. And then Gilgamesh storms off! Alright, well, he's probably better equipped to deal with the yelling outside, all things considered, whereas Aoko's grubby paws will always be better to handle things like, oh, chests. Or cubes. Actually, that offensively yellow cube still has the magus' interest, and so with people taking pity on the farmer getting yelled at, Aoko decides to go poke at that cube and its shiny silver button. You know, while nobody is looking and can tell her it's a bad idea. Maybe those chests will still be there afterwards too. Over her shoulder, she asides to Zero: "Maybe his script is just more realistic, though he sure sounds like a jerk from where we're standing. I'm ~sure~ the King will take care of it."
Yuuki Kuran	Yuuki was having a no-good very-bad awful day. It was a day that, frankly, felt like a whole awful no-good very-bad week. Probably because it was. Thankfully, as she sits in a pile of wine-dark viscera and her whole front is painted in the selfsame wicked inner elixir that the Batter was immune from, and the walls were slicked with. "Oh no." Yuuki breathes heavily, her eyes a bright crimson. "Oh no, I forgot." She stands there in the awkward 'just swung her big artifact stick like a dumbass' position, a sort of followed-through bat or greataxe pose, frozen there in comprehending noncomprehension. "I did the bad thing I wasn't supposed to do. Batter! Batter I'm sorry, I forgot that Artemis..." A floating text bubble assaults her in the forehead and she barely notices, beyond a small trickle of blood that runs down her forehead. "No, Zero, I don't need... I'm not hungry, it's--!" George, george is there for Yuuki. He reminds her of Who she is in a direct, George-y way. Yeah. Yeah! She'll get through this the same way she got through everything! Gathering up the spirit halves, unless Batter stops her immediately, Yuuki walks the gore fountain over to Aoko and the box. Wordlessly, and perhaps messily (for Aoko), Yuuki waits for the mage to retrieve the LOOT from the box, before putting the Artemis-slayed corpse in the box. "I'm sorry I ruined it, but now it's gone forever." She decides, closing the box and sitting on top before beginning to towel off. "Uhh... Zero, yeah, that does kind of sound like a member of the Chorus. Maybe it's..." "... The queen's inspector!"
August Kohler	As the monsters are torn apart, August takes a breath, and moves to relax, when the speech bubbles move to skewer them. The Tin Soldier gets pierced in the stomach, shallowly but painfully, and August staggers back. Luckily, the Add-On takes it out, and August is in relief. Mission successful! Though there's a few things to deal with. As Yuuki moves to the chests, August turns to Zero, after the confrontation. He's frowning. "What an asshole. Yeah, this growly person might be important. Alma. If we end up heading there, which I'm almost certain we will based off my current theory, we'll probably be confronting them in some way, whether it's to work with or against them." For now, though, August heads back out to the yellow cube...and moves to press the button. With monsters dead, he's curious what'll happen! And then, probably, he should catch up with Gilgamesh afterwards. But he doesn't really want to be following Gilgamesh around. He doesn't like him very much. And also, he suspects Gilgamesh might get offended if August bleeds on him, or something, as the redhead realizes he's bleeding from the stabbing. Woops.
Priscilla	Going outside, you find it's still raining. It's a wonder where it all goes, given that the earth is mostly metallic and the rain is plastic, hardly something that absorbs and makes use of the other. The yellow cube is still hovering out there too, surreally fixed in place, ignored by the quivering, terrified, square-headed office drone shaking like a leaf by the side of the path. The rear silhouette of the other figure can just be seen marching down it into the distance, and just as expected, look very, very different from the attack of the clones. Despite still wearing depressing shades of grey, black, and white, he's at least half again as tall of any of them, so thin he can almost be described as skeletal, like stretched bones wearing a suit. What he's actually wearing largely comes down to what almost look like vestal robes, albeit they terminate just past his knees, leading to a sort of greatcoat effect with long trailing sleeves and a pointed hood. It'd seem more religious were it not for the black pleated pants and boots underneath, which seem more military dress. He has . . . a very different aura about him than the farmers(slash miners?). A sort of outstanding, strenuous vitality around him, which makes him stick out even while using no colour at all. He appears to have arrived at the tram platform, and boarded to head . . . somewhere. The tracks aren't very complicated, but there doesn't seem to be a map, just a list of destinations. Aoko goes poking at the yellow cube in the meantime, being of poor taste and daring to be yellow in its mismatched surroundings, as the Judge so indicated his focus on. The silver button goes click, and a jolt of ice cold tingling electricity runs through her, rushing up from her toes to the tip of her head, bringing back some of her magic and easing her aches and pains. It turns transparent right after, like the 'buttons' that had been used before. Only for her, though. It looks pretty normal to everyone else; as normal as floating cubes can be at any rate. August gets to use it the same way, despite the fact that it looks like he's stroking a hologram from Aoko's perspective. Yuuki discovers LUCK TICKETx2 and a SILVER FLESH in the boxes, before having the gross job of transporting spectre parts that is honestly more distressing for the fact that it feels like a big, heavy, lukewarm, wet lump of marshmallow in her arms and keeps trickling oxygen-starved blood everywhere, making an awful mess from the half of its grinning head that's detached from the other. The Batter watches with hesitation that isn't his --the eyes of a passive bystander, as someone in high command, or even at the wheel, dithers on handing down an authorization. "Don't." he finally says. "A place can't be called purified if even a stain of the impure remains on it." He leaves the barn too, ignoring the anomalous cows and the basement access, and instead taking one look at the departing figure before bothering the shaking farmstead worker. "Who was that person?" "You . . . You're alive?" "Yes." "And the spectres?" "Eradicated." "That . . . You . . . You must be very lucky." "No. But who was that person?" "Oh . . . That was Dedan. He's the Queen's supervisor." "You mean spectre." ". . . No. The Queen doesn't employ spectres. He can't be one." "But he's hostile. I must destroy him." "No . . . No . . . Don't do that. He's an envoy of the Queen. I . . . I . . Uh . . . you'd better complete your work. At the Post Office next . . . P-please?" ". . ."
Gilgamesh	The King of Heroes gives the stammering man a very long look at the phrase 'lucky.' A moment later, there's a blade at the man's throat. "I am," the King says, his tablet disappearing into thin air, the silver yo-yo spinning down to the ground and hanging there in an impressive 'Walk The Ur-gallu', "Normally much more patient than this. But you have said several things so unbelievably offensive to me that I am genuinely considering simply removing your head from your shoulders at this instant. The fact that you are even still alive is because of my immense mercy, mongrel." His face gets dark. He leans forward. "But if you ever say the phrase 'you must be very lucky' and dismiss the skill and accomplishments of myself and those blessed enough to travel with me, or imply that I cannot do something because of someone else's authority, again, I will happily remove your mongrel line from the gene pool. Is that understood?" He snaps his fingers. The sword vanishes. Then he goes walking off after the inspector.
August Kohler	August ends up pressing the button...and feeling revitalized. As he glances to Aoko, to confirm the same happened to her, he looks at the transluscent button and tries touching it again, which is certainly going to do nothing. Afterwards, he moves to catch up with the rest of the group, hearing the tail-end of the Batter's conversation with the worker. "Spectre? So that guy's a spectre? Are you sure, Batter?" The Batter is a very serious guy - he doesn't assume the Batter means 'he's an asshole so he must be a spectre', but is genuinely probably sensing something. "If that's true, we have a big problem...but most of us are wounded, right now. If we end up heading to this Alma, we can deal with him then." And then Gilgamesh starts running off to follow the inspector. Now revitalized, August sighs...and does what he didn't really want to but will anyways. August moves to follow Gilgamesh. Perhaps he'll be able to get a better look at this 'Dedan' in the process, inviting the Batter along with a 'hey, you want to come?' to maybe walk and talk. The post office can wait.
Thomas Alva Edison	"Peace, King Gilgamesh." Edison says, with a sigh. "Something is not right here, and the effects of killing a man who likely does not understand what he said serves nothing." He says. "Likely, he is already learning a lesson he will not forget." The Batter's words cause him to squint just a little. "Wait, what? That man did not look like a spectre, and the...people here do not recongize him as one. Why do you think he is one?"
Aoko Aozaki	"Huh, neat," Aoko says after the initial confusion but then relief that the OFFENSIVE CUBE delivers, although it is short-lived when she notices her shirt is all messed up from Yuuki's concealing of a corpse. You'd think after decades she'd have learned not to wear white shirts, but no. "Bugger, I don't have a spare on me. Oh, hey, that... cube healed me, I guess? Seems like it healed August too. You might want to poke at it, maybe the nausea'll go away if it hasn't." It could be handy! So no sense keeping Zero and Yuuki out of that loop. With that handled, Aoko catches up with everyone else, only to see the aftermath and Gilgamesh storming off after a rather harsh threat. Huh. "Hold up, hold up!" She doesn't mean stop, she means give her a moment to catch up. "Specter or not, I want to meet the only guy in here who sounded even remotely normal so far!"
Zero Kiryu	Zero surveys Yuuki skeptically, but he doesn't interrupt anything that she's doing. Truthfully... he just doesn't get it. Even doing better as he is can't abridge every gap. The corners of his lips twitch slightly at the hiding-in-a-box and declarations that follow. He decides to just pretend all of that didn't happen and carry on with the rest, "... If this inspector sounds like a member of the Chorus, and the Queen is the person to whom they are attached, then it is probably best to assume that the Queen has a similar role to the Batter." "I'm not sure what that means, though." His attention swings over to August, at whom he nods. How much is there to say? That guy /did/ seem like an asshole, although... Not much more so than some of them, Zero himself included a lot of the time. He drifts over to the yellow cube and follows up Aoko and August's usages in reply to Aoko's explanation. "Thank you." He says to Aoko. But he doesn't move to follow after Gilgamesh just yet, lingering behind to focus on Yuuki and her Box-O-Mistakes. "Are you... absolutely certain?" He asks her. Yuuki /must/ seem wildly out of sorts to him, because this is an unusual amount of fussing from him by far.
Yuuki Kuran	Zero asks her if she's Absolutely Certain. "No." The Batter processes at her, before giving her the equivalant of (to her) 'yeah way to fuck it up lady'. Pocketing the LOOT (including the flesh, which she does NOT take a little sample of just for funsies. But Zero helps out, and he helps out for a specific reason. "Aoko said you can go get healed up, so just... make sure Gilgamesh doesn't kill someone. I've got to take this part 'out of the world'. To purify things. To make it right." Fishing the halves of her POORLY KILLED spectre out of the box-o-shame, Yuuki hurries off, her feet plop plop plopping into the blood. Once she clears the barn, she disappears in a blur of ANIME SPEED. MEANWHILE It's raining plastic. The ocean is also plastic. One girl stands there, caked in blood. "I'm sorry for ruining everything." She murmurs. She cradles the spirit halves, still fountaining blood, and drops them into the ocean. They float for a bit. It's plastic. She has to use Artemis to jab them under the 'waves' where gravity handles the rest. EVERYTHING... UN-RUINED??? BACK AT THE STATION Yuuki re-appears, dappled with plastic rain and blood. She's just... dirty now. "I fixed it."
Starbound Flotilla	"We really gotta see if we can find a way for you to learn to purify stuff, Yu'." George says to Yuuki. "But that's a good approach. Maybe check with the Batter as you go, see what you can learn? Looks like you got a bit of a handle on how to deal with things, though." He nods several times and moves on. He wanders to the asthmatic worker. "Ooof. Conditions, huh. Well, Gil's got some pretty straightforward rules, so that oughta be easy to follow! Anyway, Post Office, huh? You guys send a lot of letters around here? I bet they got loads of connections. You know, I used to work as a postmaster. We'd do deliveries through a big conveyor system I called 'belt hell'. You guys got something like that around here? Or just point me at the Post Office." He intends to take off at whatever directions the worker gives him, after trying to force him to not have a nervous breakdown from being threatened or looked at too hard, since both seem like they'd drive these dudes into catatonic fits.
Zero Kiryu	Zero turns and sweeps his way after Gilgamesh. Truthfully, he's behind enough that there's simply no way for him to stop the man from killing anybody, even if he was inclined to do so. Which he isn't, at this exact moment. Fortunately other people are attempting to act as a check on the man for that, so his presence in this regard would be relatively redundant regardless. "Thanks." He asides to George, plainly for the advice and sort-of-comfort that he's been offering to Yuuki. When the Director re-materializes, Zero draws a paper packet out of his pocket and passes it to Yuuki wordlessly. It's hardly /good/, and he can't really remember a time when Yuuki bothered with taking them at all, but having /some/thing to nibble on might help clear her head. And the tablets offer no real awkward circumstances to work around. "'Belt Hell'?" He wonders aloud at George, clearly attempting to envision what that really means.
Priscilla	"He is impure." the Batter replies, as if it would answer anything, but continuing nonetheless, one hand partway in his pocket, the other to the bloody bat relaxed on his shoulder. "This Zone will never be purified as long as he remains. The spectres will not cease appearing. My mission demands that he be eradicated." The nameless farmer is decidedly less calm. This is understandable, given that he isn't the almost supernaturally serene entity in a baseball uniform, and he's also got a sword to his throat from Gilgamesh. The sickly, square-headed, tie-wearing nobody goes from trembling to outright vibrating, looking like a shaken bottle of soda, sweating condensation, ready for its head to pop off. "I- . . . I- . . . I- . . . I'm not allowed- . . . to say . . . I mean . . . only the Queen's- . . . Dedan said . . . Dedan said only the Queen's- . . ." He looks like a poor simpleton having an anxiety meltdown, having been told by his direct superior that Gilgamesh isn't supposed to be able to defeat spectres and threatened for believing it, but also having obviously witnessed him do just that and being threatened for not believing it. 'Lucky' appears to be about as well as he can cover his ass in accepting both outcomes without tiptoeing into what might be apostasy to conclude otherwise. That or he just really really doesn't want to be fired. He falls to his hands and knees, gasping like a fish, when Gilgamesh leaves him. Aoko goes hurrying past him before Gilgamesh does, the former at least calling out to Dedan, at the tram station, to slow down so they can talk. The surreally gaunt figure in the extremely long, white and great military greatcoat/vestal robe turns just enough to reveal an extraordinarily twisted, face, two thirds a gigantic, skeletal grimace by volume, perpetually gritting massive, too-long teeth, and the rest of the third being eyes under brows so screwed up in sour-looking fury that they're basically dark pits. "I said piss off, prig." he growls through that awful looking expression. A wave of white static washes off of him, concentrating into a ring around Aoko, surrounded by dots and split with spinning rays. Dedan used Hour Hand! Aoko should be familiar with what it is; a prison of temporal stasis, albeit not operating on any magical principles she's remotely aware of. The vague, ghastly holography of hands ticking around a dial will theoretically hold her until the minute hand makes a full trip around and increments the hour hand (ironically taking exactly one minute), though she may be capable of doing something about it anyways. It's an off-handed flex of power on the proles though, just long enough to let him board the tram unbothered and un-conversationed-at. He has to stoop to get through the door. "Sh-. . . Shachihata . . ." the terrified farmer finally wheezes out. "Dedan . . . has an office . . . in Shachihata . . . You can't get into Alma without p- . . . proper authorization. I- . . . If you have a complaint . . . You can go to the Shachihata office." he whimpers in an attempt to be helpful, intimidated out of his mind. "Of course I've never been there . . . I've never had a reason to complain . . . nope . . . not one . . ." "Ah . . . the Post Offices are in Shachihata too . . . They're in the same direction. The Post Offices are where . . . They fill out forms, and give them the correct stamps . . . and send them through tubes to the other Zones. I hope there aren't any spectres there . . ." Oddly, when Yuuki: sad lass mode, drags the increasingly distressing to hold Fat Spectre corpse out of the barn, not disappearing like good ghosts/random encounters should, and dumps it into the plastic sea, the Batter exhales in something that is like a sigh, before adding in a conciliatory tone "The Barn is Pure."
Aoko Aozaki	If it was actually magic, or at least something close enough to magic to make sense of, it'd be a lot easier for Aoko to do something about it. As it were, she's kind of forced into the metaphorical time-out corner for a moment there, and only manages something that could pass for a counterspell when there's seconds left on the clock. And even then, it's not really a counterspell, it's more akin to pumping so much magic through her system that her magic circuits make a ruckus like a jet engine, and then expelling it all in a single word, instead of a laser. It still means Dedan gets away. Aoko able to move again, she scratches the back of her neck, a bit awkwardly. "Well, that's embarassing. I guess we're going to Shachihata next. That guy's got quite the face, huh?" Kind of hard to ignore. But a specter? If the queen doesn't employ specters, then what's the deal? Gil sure has some interesting theories though. She's not sure she likes them, in the sense that if they're true, it's all rather vexing.