Shopping District - Frontier Sporting Goods (Cormack, Carol, Lily, Bonnie, Not-Chaos-Hunters)

His ears drooping at the discovery that the store didn't have any bullets, Cormack picked up a couple of the gunpowder packs and turned around... to see the rest of his adventuring party having just arrived.

"Ah, there you are. So, I heard something about rations?" With ears that were a tad better than a human's, he managed to pick that last bit of their conversation up. The snort he uttered was not quite as harsh as Carol's, but it was still recognizable as a snort. "The fuck you talking about? Why'd you think I carry all these pointy and shooty things with me? Besides, according to a map I picked up, there's a forest right on the way to the Warpfields. If you wanna pick up some food here, pick up something good at least."

Grinning, he reached behind into a bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a bag of croissants, donuts, and rolls. "These babies are fresh outta the oven at Solstice Cafe. Got enough for..." He did a quick headcount, followed by a quick bread count. "...exactly one apiece. Hate to say it, but the bun— er, rabbit girl's got a point."

They headed to the counter, paying for their things. "All right... just gotta stop by Coat of Arms next door to grab some bullets real quick and I'm... whoa where'd that come from?"

He just discovered a whole box of them sitting right below the bag of pastries in his own bag.

"Heh, well, then never mind, let's head ou—wait, transport. Do you guys ride any more exciting creatures than horses or dragons or triceratopses where you're from?"

Town Square - elsewhere.

He had fled the area when the strange monstrous trees^note UDJustin's hellish pillars had sprung up and, after exploring the town and noting potential sources of easy food, now returned to the area in the centre where the humans-that-feed-him had last been seen.

The monstrous trees were gone and the humans-that-feed him were scattered about the area but the one who fed him the most often was not in sight. As he looked about the area, his eye was caught by something shiny and exciting and he flew closer to get a better look.

There was some sort of strange creature - not human and not any animal he had ever seen - making music as glowing shapes moved. The music was pleasant and the moving light was pretty. He settled on a nearby branch and cocked his head to get a better view.

It called to mind those times when the humans-that-feed-him would sit around a fire and make music - except the dancing light was giving off no heat or smoke.

Town Square, elsewhere (A Terra Novan Common Raven, Mequoql)

Fire? Where?

Without missing a beat, Meqoql glanced around, trying to see if there was a campfire or barbecue grill in the immediate vicinity. Not seeing any sign of fire, she glanced in the direction of the stray thought and saw a raven staring at her. Oh, she had triggered a memory. She reconsidered her choice of hues and shifted her light figures to primarily greens, blues, and purples.

As she sang "Beware the jub-jub bird" she conjured a deep indigo bird-shaped light and sent it flying towards the passing locals. Then the jub-jub bird wheeled around and flew towards the raven.

edited 23rd May '18 2:59:42 PM by Miss_Desperado

[Sporting Goods]

Sure enough, Cormack wasn't too hard to find. And he brought snacks, so that saved another trip to a store.

When he asked about transportation, nearly everyone's jaw dropped.

"Holy shit!" Nick said, "Dinosaurs are still alive?!"

"And you ride them?!" Adam added, "That's so cool! That totally tops cars or planes!"

God, why couldn't we be born in your timeline? Maya signed, Shit. We had a plane but it crashed. If you count transporting gems, we have those. Though it only works when it wants to.

"Maybe we can try piggyback rides!" Amy said, before giggling, "Just kidding! But we really don't have any form of transportation. But you can't just mention dinosaurs so casually like that! Tells us more!"

"How the hell did you domesticate them like that?" Jackson asked, "How are you not afraid of these giant ass creatures stepping on you?"

Notice Board (Zarokh; Mark, Farah; Murquoql)

A new creature suddenly poked its head out from behind the board.

"Hello! Who wants to help me find a lost kid?" the creature asked. It had a strange quality to its voice, as if there was a second voice speaking at the same time.

Zarokh gave a sad look to the new creature. "I wish I could, but I'm on a very important mission." He felt bad for the child. He still remembered the strong bond he and his clutchmates had formed with their mother, and how she had gone absolutely nuts when one of his brothers was eaten by a Xiphactinus. But there was nothing he could do about it. He could almost hear Krakka'a's voice in his head: "I didn't bring you here so you could go chasing after wayward hatchlings!" He sometimes wondered about the wisdom of following Krakka'a. Only sometimes, though, and those moments were short-lived, as he would remind himself that it was not his place to question the will of the Great Sobek.

He bowed to Mark and Farah as much as his physiology would allow. "Thank you for your assistance." With that, he turned and made his way to the shopping district.

Shopping District (Zarokh +10)

As he made his way into the shopping district, he happened to pass by a small pack of mammals enthusiastically discussing something. He wouldn't have paid them much mind, except that one of them expressed amazement and excitement at the idea of dinosaurs existing. Another seemed fascinated at the idea of riding them.

Zarokh chuckled. "Well, naturally. Of course, I prefer to eat them rather than ride them, but I suppose at your size, it wouldn't be so unusual."

edited 23rd May '18 8:29:48 PM by apocalemur

Hotel (Valerie, Justin, Vindex, Wolfe, Nui, Cynthia, Jean, Moobly, Shale, Arilay)

When Vindex snapped at Nui about having done nothing wrong, Nui held their left hand—the one not presently surrounded by gadget—toward him in a gesture of harmlessness. "I should correct myself—I know none of you did anything wrong; I was referring to the fact that he thought your actions were immoral." They gestured at Wolfe. "I think the only one of you who did anything wrong is currently non-existent: the 'game'-loving reflection of Justin, which it seems manifested out of a reaction to a perceived threat. Dark and powerful magic can be devastating when it runs wild—I would know."

They took a moment to consider Vindex's offer of accompanying them on their journey. On one hand, there was the possibility that the three might not trust them after they nearly had to dominate UD Justin's souls to set them straight. On the other, none of them seemed to be making a fuss over it now, and why would Vindex ask to not only accompany, but protect Nui if he didn't trust them at least a little?

The moment lasted less than a second. "Your offer of protection is much appreciated. Kalena knows I will need it." They glanced over at Alice, who, to their slight dismay, was headed out the door to deal with business, apparently. "Still, you need not worry too much; I am capable of many things." They left it at that; mentioning antimagic or necromancy around the trio would probably not be wise at this point. Even though this city was not on Orenya, they figured it couldn't hurt to be careful.

To Cynthia's talk about aether cores and automata, Nui's eyes widened just a brief moment. The automata she spoke of were things they were all too familiar with. However, they didn't feel much like explaining, and was relieved when she took out some more biscuits and gave them to Valerie. In response to this, Nui took off their backpack and rummaged inside it, removing what looked to be a ball of fried dough, one about the size of a grapefruit. Tearing it in half revealed a brown, slightly translucent substance with a consistency reminiscent of mochi, carrying a savory scent, inside what turned out to be a layer of bread.

They offered one half to Valerie. "You should probably have more than a pastry though. This is taberi - a sort of edible clay if you will." One that was quite filling and complex in flavor, containing a few different unidentifiable spices and hints of caramel, tea, and chocolate, without being that sweet. Nui thought about eating the other half, but held it in its wrapping for now.

Then they glanced over at the restaurant, where Wolfe pointed out a James Turner who was interested in going to the ghost town. Turning back to the group, they said, "Anyway, I think it would be to our benefit to talk to James, since his group will be heading in the same direction. If we have similar objectives that would be even more beneficial."

They were about to head off themself, when they caught a glimpse of Shale grasping Cynthia's hand and doing something weird to her aura. Although they couldn't discern what it was from the sight alone, they remembered the mention of touch telepathy. So that's what it's like... For a moment they stood there, watching with interest.

Purple Fez Tavern (Ozurr; Jann, Varg; Rosalind)

"Same as him," Varg responded to Rosalind's question, pointing at Ozurr. "But that's obviously not all there is to you."

"I'm a vampire."

Varg blinked a few times, and leaned forward, placing one hand on her wide jaw and casually resting the other on the handle of her blade. She peered over at Jann - who raised his hands in a nervous "please stay calm" sort of gesture - before focusing her attention at Rosalind again.

"You don't look dead," she said. Silly comment. Varg had encountered many forms of undead creatures - some stranger than others - in her days, and heard stories of even more. Most were simply mindless thralls of some other power, or instinct-driven beasts animated by wild magic, and even the rare few that still retained some trace of their former selves where always unhinged and unpredictable at best. Whatever Rosalind was, it was clearly something Varg had never seen before.

She scratched her chin. Well then, no point in jumping to conclusions.

"I guess this explains a thing or two..." Varg continued, and moved her hand away from her weapon.

"Keep talking."

Purple Fez Tavern (Ozurr; Jann, Varg; Rosalind)

When Ozurr spoke, his voice was low and devoid of emotion. "Now, when you say that, what exactly do you mean?"

Rosalind continued her tense stare-down with Ozurr. She had to be really careful with her words now, she wasn't in trouble with him... yet... but his deliberate poker voice had made it crystal clear that she was on very thin ice. She carefully explained, "I didn't want to be a vampire, I was infected without my knowledge. You know what germs are, right? Well, I don't know how it is in your world, but in my world, vampires are infected with a supernatural germ that rebuilds the body to use blood for fuel. That involves... well... shutting down and restarting."

"You don't look dead," Varg commented.

Rosalind smiled, "Thank you. There's a sliding scale of undeath, I'm on the almost living end of it." She belatedly noticed that Varg was reaching for a weapon. Rosalind's smile vanished in an instant as she asserted, "My most recent meal was yesterday evening, when the oldest mare in my herd broke her leg. There was nothin' I could do to heal Flashfoot the Sixth, so it fell upon me to give her an easier death. It would be a disgrace to her memory if I were to use my powers to harm y'all while her blood is still fueling me, so you can put that down now."

"I guess this explains a thing or two..." Varg continued, and moved her hand away from her weapon. "Keep talking."

Rosalind breathed a small sigh of relief, the worst seemed to be over now. She glanced around for eavesdroppers. "I only had a limited opportunity for other vampires to teach me about the changes I went through... what do y'all wanna know?"

edited 25th May '18 3:52:52 PM by Miss_Desperado

Town Square ~ Frontier Sporting Goods (Bonnie, Carol; Cormack; Not-Chaos-Hunters; Zarokh)

Carol raised an eyebrow, "...the fuck's a dinosaur?" she asked, garnering a shrug and a shake of the head from Bonnie.

The quarter-elf then shook her head, "I rode a bear once, does that count?" she said. "We have a truck," she mentioned, gesturing towards the hotel, "I can go get it if you guys want."

She turned to leave, only to notice Bonnie, ears wilted, eyes bulging, hand shakingly pointing at the rather large crocodile behind them. The rabbit-eared girl, obviously frightened, was barely able to keep from soiling herself.

The red-haired elf, on the other hand, was only mildly taken aback, before cracking a grin and tossing her halberd over her shoulder, "Never seen a crocodile that talked before," she commented.

Sun-Dry Sea (Pilot 0037, Unit 09; Nyorla)

The boy stared skywards for a moment, but, before he had a chance to respond, Unit 09 did so for him.

"Declaration of hospice neutrality acknowledged. Pilot zero-zero-three-seven, please stand down," came the calm, mechanically monotonous feminine voice, emanating from within the black box.

"...fine," the boy grumbled in response to his assigned computer, admitting defeat and giving up his attempt at retrieving his weapon. Instead, he defiantly balled his hands into fists, ignoring the pain from doing so.

edited 25th May '18 4:59:11 PM by WillDeRegio

Sun-Dry Sea (Pilot 0037, Unit 09; Nyorla)

Nyorla's six-chambered heart was still pounding from the close-ish call with the gun. Even though her capacity for fear had been dulled by all the adventures she'd gone on, that did nothing to stop her need for adrenaline to move quickly in emergencies like that.

"What's the matter?" Nyorla tilted her head as she moved over to sit down next to the boy. "You look tense." She set the first aid kit on her lap, opened it and grabbed the bag of cotton balls and the bottle of disinfectant. She started to reach for the young pilot's hands but hesitated. Her parents had taught her it wasn't polite for her to stick her hands into someone's personal space, especially because Mayatans had retractable claws in their fingertips. Her own were sheathed, and humans didn't have any, but that was no excuse for being rude. "I need to see your hands, is that okay?"

Purple Fez Tavern (Ozurr; Jann, Varg; Rosalind)

Ozurr blinked. None of what Rosalind said meshed with his understanding of vampirism at all, except for the part about drinking blood. Vampires weren't undead, and they certainly weren't caused by an infection. And yet, his gut told him that she was telling the truth. How was that possible?

Duh. She said it herself. "In my world." It's like with the harpies. Different worlds, different rules.

Ozurr buried his face in his hands. "Gods, I am such an idiot."

Frontier Sporting Goods Store (Bonnie, Carol; Cormack; Not-Chaos-Hunters; Zarokh)

Zarokh grinned at the red-haired one's comment. "And I've never seen a mammal that talked before. So I guess that makes us even." He would have been troubled by the implications had Krakka'a not explicitly mentioned that they were traveling to some sort of alternate universe. Apparently, these creatures came from a world where mammals spoke, and reptiles didn't.

"I'm terribly sorry to intrude, but I was hoping to find something that would show me the location of the..." what was it again? "...the Coast of Chills. You wouldn't know where I might find such a thing, would you?"

Forest - Two Travelers


The heart of the forest was dark and eerily still. It was as if all life but the overgrown greenery had evacuated, and even the greenery did not make a sound. The tree coverage was so thick, one would be hard pressed to tell if it was day or night, sunny or cloudy. Little broke through to those beneath the treetops but occasional raindrops and mist, leaving the air cold and moist. There should have been wind, but it—like everything else—seemed to have gotten lost on the way through.

When sound finally broke, the first thing that could be heard was an echo. It shook a pulse through the depths of what had moments earlier been an uncannily quiet woods. Now the former expanse of silence had a stage, and at stage center was not so much a singular sound, but a small cacophony.

Snapping twigs; stretching, squishing undergrowth; the scattering of dirt, and at least dozen other noises that were a little too dull to list. They sounded in increments, sometimes in doubles, even triples, simultaneously or in tandem. Alone, each burst of sound may have seemed random and without pattern, but, as a whole, even a slightly trained ear could recognize them as footsteps. And not just one set of tromping, trampling feet, but two, with an occasional hint of a third in there as well, dancing lightly and only occasionally at the heels of the other footsteps. These were no run-of-the-mill ghost feet, either. No, they belonged to bodies; bodies which characterized themselves as people; people who were traveling. Travelers.

The first of the two travelers—for there were only two, they simply made more noise than most traveling pairs—was, accounting for clothing, unmistakably human upon first glance. He was fairly tall, somewhat tan, and had dark hair flowing out a little messily from where it was tucked beneath a baseball cap. He had on a fairly thick hiking jacket, mostly red, except for the interior and the sleeves past the elbows, where it shifted into a dark blue. Around his shoulders hung the straps to a tired looking backpack, less a travel pack and more of a school bag. Below that he wore a gray pair of pants and some walnut colored boots, both of which were dampened by all the morning mist and plant juices that they had crossed paths with.

The second traveler looked, not accounting for clothing, nothing like the first traveler. He was not as tall, was not tan at all, and had neither hair nor a hat under which he could tuck it. He had on a puffy ski jacket that was mostly a dark emerald green with jolting stripes of bright red and blue across the chest. Below that he wore a somewhat tarnished pair of distinctly non-hiking jeans and a slightly oversized looking pair of boots, both equally as wet as the other traveler's, though it seemed he wasn't taking it as gracefully as his companion.

The first traveler, whose name was Henry Bensen, glanced back at the second traveler, who was caught in a sudden shiver.

"I told you the jeans were a bad idea," he said in his young, slightly condescending twenty-something voice. "Jeans are denim, denim is cotton, and cotton is moisture's friend, so..." he shrugged, "bad news for you." The second traveler, whose name was not Henry Bensen, just gritted his teeth and slapped at his knees, trying to still the shaking in his legs.

Henry slowed down and began taking off his backpack. "You didn't have any other pants you could have worn? Thirty percent? Fifty, even?"

The second traveler wanted to tell Henry that no, he didn't have any other options for pants. He wanted to explain that the only pants in his closet that weren't jeans were his formal dress pants, and that his mother would royally flip her lid if he ever dared to rip them. He also wanted to say something like, "hey, same to you, JanSport," with a cocky nod at Henry's worn out backpack, but... he couldn't quite manage the words to express any of these things.

Instead, he just shook his head and grumbled a dismissive, "Nrr."

Henry tried to restrain his smile, noticing a chattery clicking even in the second traveler's rather plain utterance.

"Here." He drew a small thermos out of his backpack, contemplating it in his hand for a moment, "It's pretty warm. Maybe not hot, but still, be careful." He began to hand it over to the the second traveler's eager hands before hesitating, glancing down at them. "You're sure you can hold it?"

They weren't shaking.

The second traveler nodded with a simple, "mmhm," beckoning for the mug before another shiver coursed through him.

Henry took another look at the thermos, considering all the steps involved in pouring out just one cup of its contents, and how many of those steps could easily result in the entire contents being fed to the grass and forest critters. With a decisive sigh, he set his backpack down and the thermos down back inside of it, then he unzipped and pulled off his jacket before tossing it to the second traveler.

"Tie that around your waist. It isn't much, but it'll give you some cover. Better than nothing."

The second traveler wanted to call Henry a show-off, standing there in nothing but thermal underwear and a sweater, which... wasn't exactly nothing, but was still quite a bit less than what he was wearing. Again the words seemed too much to handle, so instead he settled for doing as he was told, quickly double-knotting the jacket around his waist and feeling an immediate improvement. The jacket was still warm from Henry's lingering body heat, and though it was cozy, the second traveler didn't exactly know how to feel about it. Meanwhile, Henry pulled the thermos back out and poured out a cup of its contents, offering it to the second traveler once the latter's hands were free.

He accepted it with a rattly, "Sh-th-thenth," before drawing it closer to his face and peering down at it.

"You're welcome. Just try not to spill on yourself. Might be tempting, but the heat will do you more good on the inside than the outside." Henry started to retrieve his backpack, then paused, noticing his companion's curious reluctance. "It's just soup. Well... only chicken broth really, but I was trying to hurry. Go ahead," he gestured, "warm up."

His untimely pickiness assuaged, the second traveler brought the cup to his mouth, blew on it gently, then sipped a bit, testing the temperature. Even just the small amount he'd drunk was intoxicating, sweeping across his tongue and down his gullet like the warmth of a strangely delicious sun, piercing through the biting cold. Before he knew it, he'd upturned the cup and downed the entire contents in one big gulp.

Henry blinked silently at him, hand halfway to returning the thermos to his pack.

"...that was fast. More?"

He began pulling the bottle back out, but the second traveler simply shook his head and handed the cup back, before pointing forward. Onward, I say.

"All right," Henry nodded in approval, zipping his pack back up, "shouldn't be too much fur-"

He halted mid-sentence, in small part because he couldn't really say that 'it wouldn't be much further' in honesty. In honesty, he had become slightly... rather embarrassingly... lost, and was desperately trying to keep his cool until he either got his bearings or could figure out some way to reasonably explain to his friend that they were more or less boned.

Of course, that wasn't the real reason he'd halted. The real reason was the sound that had emerged from a few meters away. It was only an echo, but it was rustling, and not wind rustling or small squirrel rustling. Big, weighty rustling.

"Shsh." He held his hand up to the second traveler, then held his breath, praying silently that the noise had just been a tree falling that they happened to be around to hear. A branch at least. He closed his eyes and listened, waiting.




Crckch chch chchk


Crckch chch chchk



There it was again! This time he could hear the source just before the echo. It wasn't far.

The second traveler looked up fearfully at Henry as he dug back into his backpack and fished out a long metal flashlight. Even through the thick trees, it was still bright enough for them to see by unaided, but the flashlight was a hefty little thing, ripe for all kinds of unauthorized use.

"Crap," Henry breathed, switching on the flashlight and pointing it in the direction of the noise. "Okay... crap. Listen, stand behind me and stay behind the light. If you hear me say, 'you surprised me,' go hide behind a tree as quickly and quietly as you can. If I say 'bear' or 'cougar', just stay put, all right?"

It didn't sound very 'all right', but the second traveler nodded nonetheless. He didn't have many other options. He almost caught himself shivering again, even after the soup and the second jacket.

"What the..."

Henry's light shone past several trees and caught a glimpse of large blocky rocks that had been cut into man made shapes. By themselves, they weren't exactly extraordinary, but their presence in that forest was. It was hard to study them from where he was standing, but at a glance they looked mesoamerican, not something you'd find in southwest Washington.

He once again tried to think back to how he'd gotten lost, as a slow shiver ran down his spine.

Notice Board– Mark and Farah; Murquoql

"You're welcome," says Mark with a node and a jump back to avoid getting hit with 'Deinosuchus's' tail when he turns around. Then they meet another reason for the town's inhabitants blasé attitude to everything. And this reason asked them about a missing kid

"Depends." Farah seems to be completely sobered up. "If the kid got lost somewhere in the Ghost Town's direction, then we're in. Fuck, we'll brin' along half of the city if needed. And while searchin' for children, you need as much people as you can get."

"My name is Mark Tanzer, if you missed my charming companion's introduction." Mark doesn't even pay attention to Farah's glare. "Who is called Farah, by the way."

"Just Farah," says she. "Is it your kid we're talking about? What does he look like?"

Outside the Hotel – Alice; The Guardian

A walking contradiction is heading towards the Hotel. He is a man whose appearance is unremarkable and unmemorable, yet leaving a stern trace in his beholders' memories. His sunglasses' design is uninventive, his black suit is of generic style and his hair is done in the most conventional way possible for a government official, yet his skin is of unnaturally pale color, his shadow sometimes points at the wrong direction and he seems to flicker back into the existence when you blink, as if the Reality itself can't stand bearing such a strait-laced entity. The man calmly approaches Alice Winters.

"Good morning. I am John Smith, Security Service," says he with a nod and a painted-on smile. "Ma'am. I got word of criminal activity in this sector. I'm hoping this is just a misunderstanding, but I'll need to see paperwork."

City Hall Plaza – Parthenia and Sa'ad, The Guardian yet again

The rhythmic sound of chains rattling on the marble fills the Town Hall lobby, echoing painfully inside Parthenia's skull, who is sitting uneasily on one of the benches.

"Stop it," snaps she.

"Where the fuck does this ally of yours live?" Sa'ad, finishing last round of push-ups, stands up. "It's been hours."

"Can't wait to see what jail cells in this city look like, pirate?"

"Can't wait to lose the sight of your ugly face, Quizzie." Sa'ad spits. "Answer the fucking question."

Parthenia takes a deep breathe in, and quickly exhales once she hears the sound of approaching footsteps of seemingly the same walking contradiction. Parthenia jumps up, alarmed.

"Good morning. I am John Smith, Security Service," says he with just a nod. "Honora the Keraunos, I presume?"

"Where's our official?" Parthenia's tone is demanding. "This isn't within the agreement-"

"She's waiting," says Smith. "But I'll have a chat with you and Sa'ad, first."

"No. You're exceeding your instructions, Smith."

"I assure you, I'm not." A shadow of smile appears on Smith's face. "And this was not a request."

"What the fuck?!" shouts Sa'ad as another John Smith, Security Service, walks out of the latest one. Parthenia assumes combat stance. Then, when one of the Smiths touches her hand clenched in a fist and another one puts his hand on Sa'ad's shoulder, all of them disappear.

edited 26th May '18 10:58:20 AM by Millership

[Outside the Hotel – Alice; The Guardian]

The first thing Alice noticed, aside from the obvious, about the local security mook was that her defensive field stopped about three inches from him. She'd prepared for this eventuality; there was always a bigger fish out there. She greeted this particular bigger fish, then, with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. At least, at first.

She studied Smith, looking for the condescending smirk, sneering remark, or other indicator of self-satisfaction she would expect from a cop. Evidence of a weakness in his mind that she could exploit. (Unpleasant experiences in her youth had left her with a very low opinion of such — never mind that she'd already accumulated the worst traits of the worst kind, and with none of the oversight.)

She didn't find it. An air of total professionalism, untainted by petty, ulterior motives — not even an urge to lord power over others. She realized that she wouldn't be able to bribe or manipulate her way out of this as easily as she'd hoped. The immunity to her anti-magic, she could deal with, but this? She would claim it just got under her skin, pissed her off, but truth was, it was primarily fear, not anger in her heart.

She maintained a facsimile of a civil smile, though her eyes subtly betrayed her as they began darting, looking for any hint of a weakness she might exploit (and finding none). Her breathing became slow and deliberate, an attempt to counteract her elevated heart rate and keep her mind sharp and something like calm. She folded her hands behind her back, not just to give a professional appearance, but to keep them from trembling.

On Terra, Alice would say nothing to such an official without a lawyer present. But that wasn't an option here. She'd have to get herself out of this. Her voice suddenly became very terse and measured. "Alice Winters. Chief Security Officer. Western Amalgamated. You'll find my paperwork on record. Am I being detained?" Not arrested, detained — an important distinction.

Likely case is — yes, she is being detained, and Smith should begin asking very specific questions about Chaudhari. She won't deliberately lie, but she will answer as minimally as possible.

edited 26th May '18 9:49:52 PM by KillerClowns

Notice Board (Mark and Farah; Murquoql)

Murquoql took a moment to recuperate from the flood of statistical information about the humongous gator's estimated muscle power. She waved goodbye to the humongous gator as he expressed his regrets at being otherwise occupied and left. "Pity," she muttered. But then again, the gator probably would have accidentally scared the poor lost kid.

It was then than Farah and Tanzer introduced themselves and asked some questions.

Murquoql propped her back and one foot against the edge of the bulletin board and exposited, "My name is Murquoql, I'm a telepath. No, the kid's not mine, I just saw the notice. I don't even know if the kid is a 'he' yet, and it would be rude to grab the information from the mother's mind without introducing myself in person first. The kid's last known location is posted right here," she reached behind herself and tapped the correct paper on the notice board without even looking at it, "Did you not read it?"

Sun-Dry Sea (Pilot 0037, Unit 09; Nyorla)

The boy turned his head towards the stranger and sighed. "Why?" he asked, waiting a moment before clarifying, "You don't look like a doctor, so why are you wasting your time on someone like me?"

He sighed again, and unclenched his hands, "You know what? Fine, if you're gonna treat me, just get it over with already," he told her, closing his eyes and bracing for the inevitable pain.

Chitara's Wagon-Jamie

She peered at the assortment that was apparently to be her party, then peered at the humans off to grab their own transport. The wagon seemed at least large enough to perform the work she would need to do, she sighed and let the raven take it's customary place on her shoulder.

And immediately regretted it when the pressure ground bone in a most unpleasant manner. "Later." she muttered to the raven.
"Then if we shall leave there is no reason to delay." she said drily and hobbled into the wagon, taking a sparse corner and stiffly slinging out a large piece of wood about the size of a bench seat from under the robes. A few pulled levers and tightened screws revealed implements for holding and organizing various containers and objects. She unpacked some jars and vials and began her work.

Chitara's Wagon-Ulf

He favored Sophia with a toothy grin.
"I am used to running, but I can stow my disappointment I suppose. Does your group need supplies?"

Notice Board – Mark and Farah; Murquoql

"Heh, Fingers here saw it, but didn't exactly pay attention to what's written in it," says Farah.

"It says 'in the rainforest'," says Mark. "That's Southeast from here. Ghost Town's Southwest. We could accompany you until our ways part, if you like. We just need to drop our baggage at the hotel, first. And take a bath, preferably."

He gives his companion a meaningful look. She scratches her cheek with her middle finger at him.

Outside the Hotel – Alice; John Smith, Security Service

"Glad that we appear to be on the same page, miss Winters." Smith's smile grows a little wider. "I'm about to ask you a couple of questions, that's all."

Saying this, he put his hand on Alice's shoulder, and they both disappear.

In the middle of Nowhere, Interrogation Room #M_77,232,917 – John Smith, Security Service and Parthenia

She finds herself in a roofless, featureless room. When she looks up, she sees the clear night sky with clusters of shining lights on it – unusual view for a person from a starless Shattered World. The skin on her hand where Smith touched her is inflamed. It hurts.

"I apologize for invading a lady's personal space," says the same Security officer sitting facing her across the table. "But there's no other way for us to have a talk in private. I've also taken care to detach you from your prisoner. His presence here is unnecessary."

She just notices that the chain she merged into a bracelet is missing.

"Where did you send him? He's in my-"

"He's detained, as he should be. He'll then be transferred to the holding cells, as was requested."

"For your own sake, you better be saying the truth." The Inquisitor, nevertheless, breathes a sigh of relief. "You should know about the sanctions we could impose on you city."

"Yes, I am aware of the ways your State acts on the international scene." He nods. "I am also aware of countless organizations across the Multiverse that would, and could, destroy the Technocracy just for existing. I am acting within the terms of the agreement. I understand your frustration, but please keep your threats to yourself. Especially when you have endangered the city I'm bound to protect, Inquisitor. "

"I have endangered it?" Parthenia's voice reverberates inside the Room's white walls. "I have been attacked! Inside the city limits!"

"We both know you possess the power to create lighting." Smith was visibly calm. "And we both know that you have no qualms of using it. The weather was dry, the air wasn't ionized well. You know better than anyone what amount of force is needed for the electrical breakdown in such conditions. And yes, you were inside the city limits. You know that your lighting would hit not just your targets."

Fuck.

"You seem to know everything about this case." Parthenia scoffs. "I guess the verdict has already been passed, hasn't it? Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"There's little I can do to a person not under my jurisdiction," says Smith in a disappointed tone. "Due to our circumstances, I have a policy of non-interference when it comes to inter-universal affairs inside the City. Unless they threaten the City itself. I can only ban you from entering the City or force you to make concessions in its favor. And you are still a victim in this situation, so concessions it is."

"And what would that be?"

"In general, it's something that could be of value to the City. Piece of technology, a spell, genetic material, useful information. For you…" He pauses. "It's to let me hold your badge for a while."

"I can't let you touch it," say Parthenia with indignation. "You should know that. And how would that be useful to your City?"

"That's none of your concern. And would you prefer to be banished from the city otherwise? Start the chase for Sa'ad all over again, when we have the only known means of transporting you back home?"

Parthenia gives out a sigh of frustration, takes off her badge and gives it to Smith. He then weighs it in his hands and twirls it a little.

"Interesting," says he. "We're not exactly in private here, are we?"

In the middle of Nowhere, Interrogation Room #(10 ↑)2 8.6 – John Smith, Security Service; Alice

She finds herself in a roofless, featureless room. When she looks up she sees the clear night sky with bright constellations, totally unfamiliar, no matter how hard she looked at them.

"I apologize for invading a lady's personal space," says the same Security officer sitting facing her across the table. "But there's no other way for us to have a talk in private."

He browses through a rather thick document case lying in front of him a bit.

"You have quite the history, Alice Winters." Smith's tone was impressed. "Was there a dire need to add 'impersonating a government official' to it? Impersonating me, specifically?"

In the middle of Nowhere, Interrogation Room #13 – John Smith, Security Service and Sa'ad

He finds himself in a roofless, featureless room. When he looks up, he sees a thunderstorm raging in the night sky. His shoulder hurts like hell. He sees that he is still shackled, now to a ring nailed down the floor.

Well, fuck.

"Yes, I'm afraid I had to do it, Sa'ad," says the same Security officer sitting facing him across the table. "You are a danger to everyone, yourself included."

"Fuck you."

"Hm-m."

"I'm not telling you anything," Sa'ad makes a futile attempt at tearing the ring out of the floor.

"Don't expect to," says Smith. "Though it would be nice if you answered just one question, related to Parthenia the Keraunos."

"What about her?" Sa'ad gives him a confused look.

"Did you really call her a frigid bitch?"

"...Huh?"

"Also a number of other expletives?"

"Well, yeah?"

"I reiterate: have you been repeatedly insulting a Technocracy special agent to her face?"

"Fuckin' A I've been!" roars Sa'ad. "So what?"

Smith takes a deep breath in, purses his lips and reaches his hand to open the drawer.

"Hey! What the fuck?!" Sa'ad's eyes betray his panic. "Now fuck you! You're not getting me without a fight!"

Having reached inside the drawer, John Smith, Security Service produces a tray with the most hideous looking pieces of bakery Sa'ad ever saw in his life.

"Have a cookie for that, Sa'ad." Smith leans a bit forward. "I made them myself."

edited 27th May '18 1:09:50 AM by Millership

[In the middle of Nowhere, Interrogation Room #(10 ↑)2 8.6 – John Smith, Security Service; Alice]

Such a teleportation stunt should have been impossible — indeed, for any other being in this particular universe, even those who believed themselves gods, it would have been. Alice blinked, genuinely stunned for a moment. It didn't help that she, on principle, really, really did not being plucked off the street and whisked away to some strange room, like she was... well, frankly, like she was one of the anti-colonial activists that routinely suffered the same fate at the hands of corporate goons in her employ. After shaking it off, she returned to her dealing-with-fucking-cops groove.

She said nothing, drumming her fingers against the desk. Sure, she didn't have the same rights she'd have in a semi-functional democracy, or access to the swarm of elite lawyers Sigmund would usually provide for her; this was more like that mess in Belarus than anything that would happen in the States. But she had some pride. She treated the loaded question as rhetorical and waited for actual questions regarding the facts of the case.

edited 27th May '18 7:17:03 AM by KillerClowns

Sun-Dry Sea (Pilot 0037, Unit 09; Nyorla)

Nyorla shrugged at the monosyllabic question, heard the clarification and giggled, "Well, of course I don't look like a doctor! I'm not a doctor! That doesn't mean I can't learn basic CPR and first aid." She paused, soaking the cotton ball in disinfectant. "How can I waste my time when every action I take is a celebration of not being locked away in my own unresponsive body for ten years anymore?"

The boy sighed again, and unclenched his hands, "You know what? Fine, if you're gonna treat me, just get it over with already."

Nyorla looked over to see the young pilot braced for pain. "Hmmm..." she muttered almost inaudibly to herself, "That won't do..." Her telepathy gently made a limited connection to his mind, poised to intercept the pain and transfer it to herself.

She telekinetically blotted the disinfecting cotton ball against the blisters. Each blot against a popped blister triggered her quietly mewling like two kittens in unison. The wet cotton ball wobbled in her levitating grip, but she continued blotting.

When Nyorla finished blotting, she paused for a moment until the stinging died down and released the telepathic connection. She muttered to herself, "Shale could have done that better." She grabbed strips of cloth and spoke up, "I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Nyorla, I'm a Mayatan."

Murquoql stopped herself from tisk-tisking at Mark "Fingers" Tanzer's inattention, having noticed that Farah had deftly avoided saying how much attention she herself had paid to the bulletin board. Murquoql filed that query for a later time, there were a lot of different details vying for her attention.

Murquoql's brown eyes unfocused for a split second as she used her microchip communicator to glance at a satellite image from Arilay's spaceship. She considered mentioning the spaceship's teleporter, but decided against it. She'd rather spend enough time on the ground to get some experience with the wilderness's dangers. "Yes, traveling south and parting ways will work," she nodded.

Murquoql caught sight of the subtle flip-off, and even though she knew it wasn't aimed at her, she couldn't resist turning around, stretching her hands high above her head, and sinking her claws into the bulletin board's log column like a cat on a scratch post. Her gliding membranes were stretched out almost to the elasticity limit of Mayatan skin. She continued as if nothing had happened, "As for the hotel, we can split up and meet back in the lobby. You do what you need to do, I'll ask the woman in Room 444 some questions. That sound like a plan to you?"

edited 27th May '18 9:44:13 AM by Miss_Desperado

Necropolis

The wanderer's hand stayed extended, reaching for the empty air, as the woman leaped away and charged towards a large, unsightly knot of flesh and bone, shaped vaguely like a rider and its beast. They observed blankly as she tore part of the creature's body and promptly shaved it in her mouth, and beheld the fight disinterested. What would happen if one won, what would happen if the other did? Would they fight till death, or would pain replace anger with fear, as it often does in those wise enough to survive?

Would one of them come for the wanderer, if they observed the battle until the end?

They stepped back and glanced to the side, to the mausoleum shattered open by the warrior who now sought to devour a feverish nightmare. Violated, perhaps irrevocably so, like a mountain ground to dust by the roaring sea. Learn how to stand, know when to scatter.

And so they slid down from the faller arc, and dashed through the shattered door, trying not to gaze at the shattered bones and ruptured coffins. They turned through unlit corridors and crawled through a hole in a wall, entering a hidden garden, overgrow with thorny shrub so thick the sun barely touched the ground. Their branches intertwined behind them as they walked, forming an impassable knot of sharp and dense wood. And further into the garden, where the ground had caved in long ago, they pushed themselves through a small hole leading into the underground crypt tunnels, which also closed after they passed. Through those tunnels, the red wanderer would reach what they needed to protect the sanctuary those ruins were.

Chitara's Wagon (Chitara, Naiolo, Saen, Nyceme, Sindar, Jamie, Ulf, Teri, Sophia, Finn, Aubrey, Pearl)

So apparently most of the humans were taking their own transport. Sindar nodded in agreement when they brought that up. "Sure, it means more room in the wagon for the rest of us." Then he flew over to follow the others into the wagon.

Nyceme uttered a hissing chuckle when Chitara mentioned royalty. "Well he isss a king, but not in a traditional sssenssse, and all hisss sssubjectsss are in worssse condition than I am. I mussst thank you for offering transssport for usss."

When she entered the wagon, she noticed Jamie setting up a table with some strange bottles and jars which piqued the undead snakewoman's interest. Stashing her scepter nearly out of view under her shawl, she slithered up to the plague doctor. "Forgive my intrusion, but may I asssk what you are working on? A ssspell or an alchemical processs, perhapsss?"

And Sindar picked up the conversation with Chitara, hovering at eye level with her. "A priest of the Raven God... then I imagine it's no wonder you have experience with the undead. I um, hate to ask this, but... do you possess magic that can turn undead, and if so, does it affect all of them indiscriminately, or are undead who are more intelligent or under direct control of a necromancer less affected?"

"And is that also the case for that ward you are setting up?" he added to Saen, effectively repeating the question he asked Chitara.

Restaurant (Leone, Gwion, Kris, James, Nora)

Leone nodded in response to James before turning her attention to the latest happenings out in the plaza. Her eyes lingered warily on the absolutely massive crocodile, but as it appeared the beast was not currently hostile, that was all she did.

"Normally I'd advise against touching it, but this one seems friendly enough," she said to Nora, "And capable of speaking too, it looks like. Maybe if you ask it nicely...." Before she could finish her thought, the crocodile lumbered off to elsewhere. "...And if you maybe catch up with it...."

Once the creature left she glanced back at the notice board, in particular the one person who happened to be obviously not human. As far as she could tell, it was simply talking to the two people on horseback nearby.

"...I guess this sort of variety is normal around here," she said, to no one in particular, "It's...odd, to see it all out in the open like this."

edited 28th May '18 2:49:08 PM by Yomegami

Hmm... Oh, right! Sick Bay, yeah, that goes there...

Lifting her right eyebrow in a very slight and casual manner, Explorer of Unknowns looks towards Maequoql's sisters... A few seconds before they actually arrive. Taking note of the false zipper hidden behind, let's see... Murquoql, the mysterious woman's face for the briefest moment looks amused by something.

Turning to Mo- Err, the other one as she spoke up, Explorer calmly visually tracks Murquoql following her sister's prompting- Simple, casual interest, nothing unusual here. Right? ~"I'm not sure what you're talking about ma'am, the Designer of Life would have no interest in mere alternate humans."~

With Murquoql gone and the other- Oh, right, now Moquoql... With Moquoql continuing with her explanation, the rainbow haired gold-eyed woman looks at her- And looks faintly sad upon hearing that they can't just be bystanders. Still, as Maequoql reenters Explorer's field of vision, the woman rather peculiarly lingers her gaze on Mae's zipper-

And speaks completely casually, even flickering her right hand about to sell her behavior. "I could say 'We're girls, its okay', but honestly I don't know why the Brittles even let that phrase become a thing. Besides, technical nudity isn't fun, well sexually speaking I suppose. I mean really, when I can do stuff like this..."

With a snap of her right fingers, one second there was nothing- And the next some cat-like creature just abruptly thered in the air before Explorer. Well, if by "cat-like" one means being covered in feathers instead of fur and having a tail that looks more like a wing... Then, definitely "cat-like", yeah...

Casually shrugging her shoulders and holding her arm out to the literally just made creature, the woman finishes her little speech. "Sex is kind of pointless, ya know? Far more entertaining things for a deity to focus on..." Though as the feathery cat-thing lands on her arm, prodding it out of curiosity...

Explorer's face flashes with a minor expression of realization, soon calling out to Maequoql. "Are you overly reliant on your telepathy when it comes to understanding others? I thought it was fairly obvious I didn't care about your, quote unquote 'nudity', so... Have you notice me say or do anything somewhat strange? Figure there should be more questions for one who spontaneously showed up out of nowhere."

Sun-Dry Sea (Pilot 0037, Unit 09; Nyorla)

This... was unexpected. The boy couldn't fully wrap his mind around this complete stranger showing him... kindness? He was expecting her to just slap on some regenerist balm and call it a day, just like the doctors and nurses at the infirmary did for all the pilots whenever they were hurt. Instead, she was actually taking her time to administer actual first aid. While it was true that regenerist worked much faster, it hurt like hell.

During the process, the boy couldn't help but stare as this strange person as she worked. "Are... are you a mage?" he asked nervously, observing how she manipulated the cotton ball without touching it. He wasn't exactly fond of the company mages; they tended to be... sadistic.

Still a bit wary, he glanced up at Nyorla. He figured it was polite to introduce himself, "My pilot designation is Zero-Zero-Three-Seven, of the 3rd Imperial Balamar Panzerfaust division," he said, relaxing slightly.