The City at the Center of the Multiverse

Jo'on Yorigami - Construction Site

Jo'on spared a moment to look the suited women up and down. She really should get around to getting those fusiliers seconded to the chancellery.

"Well, if Flowerbottle craves an audience with me he's welcome to come over," said Balder's chancellor, waving a dismissive hand. "Run along and tell him that, and stop hindering us."

She turned back to the goron labourers.

"We're keeping the trees."

Edited by joergenjetsam on Jul 11th 2018 at 8:39:16 PM

Cauldron Pent House: Friends in Very, Very, Very Low Places

Scratch smiled. "Glad to hear it."

With the disclaimer out of the way, the writer's light grimace turned positive, as if he knew a secret that the head of Death Watch would desperately like to know. He humored the feeling, mulling it a little with some idle stares at the swishing booze in his emptying cup. Then he gave in to his own excitement.

"I was planning to tease this once I had a little more to go on, but...ahh, what the hell?"

Scratch turned his eyes to Vizsla, a beaming smile on his face as he studied every inch of anticipation (or was that irritation?) on the old man's face.

"How would you like to see Mandalore again? Bring everyone in Death Watch with you, take the planet back from that prissy bitch of a Duchess. I don't have the power to do it yet, and there's a few things I need in my possession to even start to work on a ticket out of this dimension, but...it's not impossible."

He nursed his drink solely for the dramatic tension, then continued.

"I've already started collecting the pieces, but there's some...ehh...moral grey areas when it comes to part of the mechanics. Nothing dangerous for you or yours, but I'm gonna need to recruit some very special people in order to make this work, and they're gonna be doing some pretty crazy shit. The superstitious might call it 'Black Magic' because it's scary and they don't understand it. I wouldn't call it magic, but it's more...well great, now I'm rambling! Sorry, this is just...fuck, you ever had the feeling that destiny just hands you a miracle and a free pass to go crazy? That's how I'm feeling right now! Lots of ideas, lots of possibilities, no fucking filter. Lemme just..."

Scratch set the drink aside, took a deep breath, and continued.

"So you can probably guess that anything resembling 'Black Magic' or whatever's going to spring some big red flags with the goody-goodies in the government. It's a bit of a Catch 22: I can't prove to them that what I'm doing isn't terrible if I can't do what they think is terrible. So I'm gonna have to keep them in the dark for a while, and to do that I'm gonna need a man on the inside. Not just a man, either; I'm gonna need someone who can be any man. Somebody who can talk to all the right people, sew mistrust where it's needed, add a little misdirection, and if push comes to shove take a few bullets."

Perhaps Scratch saw the gears turning in his old friend's head. He smiled.

"Thirty-five years is a long enough time-out, don't you agree? I think it's high time our ol' pal Envy stretched his legs."

Ah, morning again. I don't remember hearing my alarm clock, so I assume that unless I'm very, very late for school, I've woken up early. I keep my eyes shut, the darkness was warm. A warbling cry drifts in through the window, sitting just above my head. Maseye, I think. Yeah, definitely a Maseye. Maybe its here because of my birdfeeder. I installed one last week, hoping to start a new hobby: it was simple, just a jar stuck to a plate with a hole in the side and filled with bread crumbs. Took me a whole night to make, too. Outside I hear fluttering, then an avian shriek, then silence. I can only guess but I think a Pypran might have just ruined my birdfeeder. I take a deep breath, I'm wide awake now and there was no point trying to deny it.

I roll over onto my side, determinately keeping my eyes shut. The bed was still warm, the sheets still cosy; maybe if I try just a bit harder I can go back to sleep. It's still early, isn't it?

The dry screech of my alarm put an end to it all. I had originally bought the clock because its morning chime had a certain lilt to it. It was cute. A few days ago I knocked it off the drawer by accident and its been screaming ever since. I shut it off, and in the process, lose all the warmth between the bedsheets. It's my que to get up- it's seven in the morning. Only now do I open my eyes, begrudgingly I admit, and stare at the ceiling. For a moment, I was lost. Where am I? The wooden beams; the small lamp jutting out from the wall; the sack-cloth curtains; I had expected something else. Aching eyes cause me to blink, and suddenly, I'm back: I'm on Balder, living in a small apartment (if that's what you want to call my sleepout) in the Western Quadrant, school starts in two hours and I forgot to pack lunch last night.

I'd kill for some Chamomile right now.

Somewhere between Wayne Highschool and Santa Barbara park

The school was in a total mess. I had never seen anything like what happened to Lisu, and apparently, neither had the teachers. I had never been so close to transforming in front of my classmates. Luckily, everything turned out alright. Yet, during the initial uproar, I had seen Yui run off with Frankie, Vigil hot on their heels. Frankie and Yui looked genuinely upset, which is why I'm currently waling as quickly as I can to Santa Barbara park. The teachers don't seemed to have noticed me missing from class yet.

I bump into Frankie first. He spares me hardly a glance; not surprising since honestly, I don't think our conversations have ever passed the two sentences mark. I run past him, just in time to see Toph Beifong disappear off into the distance.

Oh.

I see Vigil and Yui and I wave, putting as much cheer into it as possible without looking awkward.

"Vigil! Yui! I've been looking everywhere for you."

Not exactly true, but it's the thought that counts.

"Are you two alright?"

Balder City, Construction Site: It Pays to Pay Attention!

Martin Hatch seemed to look through Fourblossom rather than at him. Part of his mind was elsewhere, but the rest was stuck bearing the idle musings with straining patience. He could humor Alan's nonsense because it furthered his own goals; this fool was just plain annoying.

"My apologies, Mr. Flowerbottle, but my business does not concern you or your company. Now if you will—"

Then came the icing on the cake: Flowerbottle's muscle wasn't interested in letting him leave. Not without disclosing top secret information, at least. For a half a heartbeat, that stare in Hatch's eyes might've warned the burly woman of an attack. Maybe with the cane, or the heavy briefcase, or (considering their similar height) maybe a swift headbutt. But the moment ended, and the fire in the CEO's eyes fled back into his mind.

"Five."

The number lingered in the air as Martin turned back around to face the perfume-maker. "I counted five people in this area who appear to work as your security. The two tallest and largest of the group are here, no doubt to dissuade anyone from bothering you."

Hatch raised his cane to point across the street at a small cafe with outdoor seating. "Two more are sitting at that table. I noticed them staring at me when I passed by you before. My guess is that at least one of them is a marksman, judging by the bag by the Twi'lek's feet; he reached for it earlier as I approached the corner. Potential assailants might be capable of out-maneuvering two thugs, but very few can out-maneuver a bullet.

"The fifth guard's post is halfway close to clever. She is a Mutant placed on the other side of the plot, disguised as a worker on break. Were it not for the lack of dirt and grime on her clothes, I may have overlooked her. I assume she has some sort of enhanced senses, or perhaps telepathy, making her the lookout. For all I know, she is listening to me right now."

Martin stepped closer to Fourblossom with a patient, but condescending smile. "I am no detective, Mr. Flowerbottle. It is perfectly possible that I have not spotted every grunt you have in a hundred-foot radius, but the fact I found so many in so short a time is...rather alarming. Perhaps you have a genuine concern for your safety. Perhaps you are trying to advertise mercenaries as the latest Flowerbottle accessory. Regardless of your reasoning, you ought to know that surrounding yourself with so many guards might give people the wrong idea about you."

The cane knocked against the wooden fence. "And the people in here—among them the Chancellor, a former crime-fighter, and a creature that eats rocks for nourishment—are not the sort of people you want to give the wrong idea."

Edited by TheodoreHastings on Jul 12th 2018 at 12:30:01 PM

Western Quadrant Interrogation Room

Zemo wouldn’t respond to the man directly, his shadowed expression remaining static even as he wordlessly and subtly tilted the glass back and forth before the man’s lips, the motion just slight enough to cast ripples in the Fusilier’s reflection. Whether the man decided to value his paranoia or his comfort, Zemo would then place the glass down between them, the front and back halves of the glass’s bottom hitting the tabletop with a cla-clop like a soldier standing at attention—though if Wolnee had refused, the motion would splash a small amount of water in the Fusilier’s direction to collect in front of him, bubble-like and tantalizing, on the table’s flat surface.

“I would like you to recount everything you can remember from before the time you lost consciousness.” Zemo continued with an affable neutrality while he reknit his hands in front of him, as though the arid interrogation room was simply his home and the other Fusilier an unexpected though not entirely unwelcome guest. “Your fellow soldier is here to collaborate anything you may not fully recall. Any information you could provide to help resolve this incident would be… very much appreciated.”

Edited by Uncandescent on Jul 12th 2018 at 11:52:31 AM

Laeta Owari - Eastern Quadrant

"City center sight-seeing it is." She'd be later getting home, but it wasn't as if Guzma was a stickler for punctuality. Laeta checked her internal map and then turned direction down a road that led more towards the city's core.

As for Cloudcrest's offer, it got a snort out of her. "Hey, nah, c'mon. I mean, I get what you're about. I feel it. But-" Her features drooped, for a moment making her look as young as she was. "I dunno, I don't really fit, y'know?"

Her downtrodden expression disappeared, brows knitting together as she slammed her fist into her chest. "Hell yeah I can punch good. Real good. But I can't, y'know, chill like you guys can. Find peace an' tranquility an' all that. Even Thorsnaps ain't pissed all the time, you get?"

Akane Owari - Landing Field

With a tch through her teeth, Akane stomped down from the metal ramp and onto dirt. It should've been below her, to bicker with a co-worker half her age, but Akane really hadn't changed much in the thirty-five years she'd been tethered to Balder.

That included her intuition, which flared in response to the new arrival- like a dog faced with the unfamiliar. It wasn't because of his appearance, she didn't think, though she did make note of the weaponry around his waist. The how and why of her instincts escaped her: all she knew was that they'd never strayed her wrong.

Thus, she stayed cautious, but concealed it behind her usual veil of naivety. "Never felt the kick of beltin' it out? I'd recommend it." Instead of a shake, she nudged his hand to the side and put a fist against his shoulder. Not unamicably. "Nice to meetcha. Y'looking for an autograph? Just get me a pen."

"Not gonna sign anywhere weird though-" She slid an eye down his robotic-looking body. "-if you've even got the parts to call that. Least not before lunch." With a brief wink, she disengaged and made her way out of the field, doing nothing to dissuade the man from following her. Her direction wasn't quite the mayor's office, but instead to the nearest food vendor. A brief- and, in her view, necessary- stop before continuing with her job.

Guzma - Northern Quadrant Ranch

Guzma's sunken eyes rolled as he corrected Anansi again on her terminology- "It's Miss, she ain't never got married..."- before he backed to the nearest wall and slumped against it, almost in a subconscious attempt to distance himself from the energy radiating off his younger guest. "Anyway, all likelihood that we'd be waiting for a while if you wanna catch us all. Haina will fly before they're both on time. And the market won't wait all day..." The rest of his argument for why she should stay put while he put a few miles between them petered out as she showcased her latest artistic endeavour. Not just due to the abrupt change in topic, but because, in spite of himself, he was wholly engrossed in the work she displayed.

He'd gotten his tattoos at the apex of his frustration against the world; when his anger seemed endless, and demanded to be seen as much as it was heard. When the tide had turned, and a child had convinced him that there was more to life than what lurked in its shadows, that was when he'd seared his skin of the rage it had once displayed. There was now no sign of the Team Skull logo that used to emblazon both his wrists- just the wrinkles and scars of an old, tired man.

Morose as the symbology of the tattoos had been, the memory of them brought with it a sudden rush of nostalgia. When Anansi shyly put forward the idea of a tattoo of his own, featuring the beast that crawled its way into his conversation at least once a week, he threw his head back and hollered- loud, sharp bursts of laughter stronger than what his lungs should've been capable of. A surprise to her, perhaps, but to him it was a return to form. "You couldn't find an artist alive good enough to capture that fucker!"

Quickly becoming aware of himself, he killed the laughter and shot her a very obviously put-on glare. "Where'd you even get these ideas from anyway?" He asked, tearing at the Weg's second leg to fill up the emptiness in his mouth left by the enforced silence. "I mean for your tats. What's the inspiration?"

Edited by whizzerd on Oct 25th 2018 at 1:29:48 PM

As he walked down the path a woman suddenly called out to him. His furrowed brow and introspective mood seemed to instantly alleviate as he gazed upon her. He seemed intrigued by the sight of her. He had to get a better look.

While she captivate his whole attention, the mysterious woman may be distressed to find that it seemed he wasn't listening to a single word she was saying. Instead he was admiring her tattoo. Such fine work. He knelt down, trying to find the beasts tail and follow its body up along the canvas of the woman with close inspection. Even around framing of her belly, he would attempt brush a finger along the form of the snake. Such vivid detail, he had to make sure that some how they weren't actual scales. Assuming he wasn't slapped or stopped for his efforts, by the time he reached the head he would be nodding his head with approval.

"Excellent. As seductive as the devil of Eden."

He could feel inspiration striking. Perhaps have her hold an apple. Both Eve and the Snake as one. It will be titled Temptation. Or is that perhaps too on the nose. Oh! It seems there was more.

He then took a look at the facial markings. House. He rubbed his chin as if trying to decipher a riddle. Perhaps it was meant to be along the line of my body is a temple. This earthly vessel a place she feels comfortable in, a home. He vaguely remembered some american song referring to women as a brick house, but despite not understanding the meaning of the phrase, he some how felt that wasn't what she meant.

As if hearing an echo from the back of his brain, he finally realized that he had been asked a question.

"A child? Ofcourse not. I'm an artist."

He looked at her with a confidence that somehow answered her inquiry.

A small smile crept across the exposed half of Xola's face as her new acquaintance agreed to her offer. She wanted to finish her conversation with the child and the goatman first of course, so she nodded her head in respect before turning to the receptionists that were hopefully no longer on edge. The woman of faith offered them a smile as she stepped up to the counter. "I hope that you all are well now that things have calmed down. My name is Xoladroskisce and I would like to request a meeting with either the mayor or Commander Kiryuin if at all possible." the chimera ant requested.

Balder Capitol War Room

Built several stories below the Commander's office, the real heart of the Capitol Building was the war room. It was part of the same reinforced basement complex that held the building's power generators and computer core and some of the secure armouries and vaults, sporting vaulted concrete ceilings, regularly spaced rows of supporting columns, and cold green-tinged lights in wire cages. The edges of the room held computer terminals, work desks, telegraph and wireless stations, all nestled in between columns and arches, and all manned with Satsuki's finest. The air was filled with the whir of air circulators and the low murmur of professionals at work.

The centerpiece of the war room was the map. A big, chunky computerized unit the size of a large dining table, its matte black surface was currently displaying the latest map of the city. Satsuki stood at the southern edge of the map, hands resting on the hilt of her sword, watching impassively as a technician at her left hand finished programming in the latest intell, adding a few more red dots to the constellation already scattered across the city. The wall behind her was covered in a larger map of Balder itself, marked with more traditional pins, strings and and note-cards.

Tsunemori's second, Captain Idias, was standing at the northern side of the map, standing stiffly and glaring out across the room. Jengbish was a cerametal mountain looming over the eastern edge. Once a few more spaces were filled, they would begin, but for now Satsuki stood and gathered her thoughts.

—

Wayne High School

Akane listened as the school nurse railed against her instructions, looking down ^* (now that was a new experience) to watch as Anna paced and ranted, the general maintaining her confidant frown with just a tightening around the eyes.

Madness diseases? More than you'd think... She didn't need an area stress reading to know that the small crowd gathering around the school gates was getting worried, agitated. Stepping in closer, Akane put a hand on Anna's arm and leaned in, lowering her voice so that only the small gaggle of teachers could hear.

"We don't know if this is a contagion, but even if it is - you've been exposed. Everyone here has been exposed. Do you really want to disperse this crowd out through the city?"

She stepped back again and gave Miki a small, grateful smile, raising her voice again. "Mrs Kuroda is right. We need to keep these children safe, and this is the best way to do that. I'd like to keep Lisu seperated from the others as well, for the time being. I have some questions I'd like to ask him - gently." She added, raising her hands to mollify any outburst from Anna.

At Miki's question, she nodded with more confidence than she really felt. "That's right... but you should prepare for a longer stay, just in case. Now, you mentioned that you have students off-campus? Do you know where they are?"

—

Streets between Wayn High and Santa Barbara

As they walked, Yui glanced over at Vigil and sighed, one hand moving to comb through her hair.

"I... don't know what I would have done, if she hadn't run off." She admitted, frowning. "I didn't think it through at all, I just... Shit, I shouldn't have let myself get so mad. Beifong would have kicked my ass."

And then she'd have to explain to Mother why she'd picked fight with an Original Warrior. Yui's cheeks burned pink at that thought, but the squirming embarrassment in her gut was briefly forgotten as she heard a familiar voice.

"Mami! We're fine!" Yui only slowed slightly as the blonde girl caught up - she didn't have time to stop. "Did you see Frankie coming this way? How was he?"

That smile probably didn't mean what Ebby thought it meant, but for the spider-lady, it was enough. She breathed out in relief, wiping some non-existent sweat off her brow and chuckling to herself. Finally, someone like her, someone who could make sense of this whole thing! She couldn't let this fellow citizen of Dawn go at it alone.

"And if your mayor wants to hear more of my message, she's gonna have to listen to my friend!" Ebby said to the receptionist, staying as close as possible to Xola and flashing her an equally ecstatic smile. "ow long have you been here?... has it been a few days for you too? Did you get swept up in the hurricane, o-or did something else happen to you?" The smile didn't falter. "I'm so glad I've met you. Must be a blessing in disguise, hm?"

"General Jengbish."

Captain Idias looked even younger when standing next to the towering mountain of meat that was Jengbish, but she did her best to stand tall- or at least as tall as she could possibly stand. After giving him a respectful bow (with most of the work relegated to her head), she looked up and washed away any sign of emotion from her face.

"It's an honor to meet you once more, sir." Idias said, looking at the blue tear-shaped pendant hanging off her neck. "Though the circumstances are dreadful, it is still a privilege to work with you."

Her head craned towards Satsuki, and she gave her a cold glance. "The same, Commander." She muttered, moving away from the woman that hadn't chosen her to be a General, and closer to the man who she had fought with against the god Balder... Idias wasn't exactly above picking favorites.

Fourblossom's smile remained constant and unwavering, his eyes locked onto Martin's as the man delivered his sharp-witted take-down. In response, the pale man moved his hand to not just grasp at his glasses but also order the suited woman to back off... an order which she quickly followed, sliding out of Martin's path like a rock. "Is that better?" Fourblossom muttered, before taking an even closer step, testing Martin's boundaries.

"Me and your employer have a lot in common... for one, I think we both know that this peace isn't going to last. Like the bards say, into each life some rain must fall. Now, I like to be ready, Mr. Hatch, and I imagine that your employer likes to be ready too. All I'm saying is that... some communication might make it so we won't just survive, but thrive."

He slid his fingers into his pockets and pulled out a piece of parchment with an address scribbled onto it, pushing it into Martin's hands. "For when he's interested in talking." Leaning back, Fourblossom nodded at the construction site with his umbrella. "Now... you were going to speak to the Chancellor?"

The woman trailed off, watching as the kid stared at her. She opened her mouth, ready to say something, but then he started trailing her tattoo, which just made her gaze back at him, completely confused. Her hands quivered, ready to slap him away, but she just stood there, gaping at the guy's courage.

"Oh, are ya?" She sneered, taking out her glasses so she could pinch the bridge of her nose. "I gotta be honest. I've seen some weird shit in this planet. And you just took the cake." Laughing to herself, the woman put her glasses back on and smirked. "Alright, what's your deal? Is that stuff you did with the thief your... 'art'? And if so, how much do I have to pay for you to... 'art' a place up?"

Cloudcrest scoffed, looking around at the bustle and hustle of the eastern quadrant. A merchant yelled over the sounds of the street. A Haina almost trampled past them as it transported carts filled with food to another part of town. The sound of people talking, walking and just living drowned out the soft noises of a nearby creek, one of the last remains from before nature had given way to civilization.

"And you're telling me you fit here?" They said, pointing at the departing Haina. "Where do you fit, then?"

"Ms. Owari..." The vocoded voice continued, and although it was clearly coming from behind Akane, there was a vague shimmer as the man suddenly appeared a few feet ahead of her. "Please, a conversation with you is all I seek." He continued, as the voice floated through the air, as if 'catching up' with its source.

"I represent a powerful individual who, for the past fifteen years, has been living in this planet. She, like many others, hasn't felt at home in Balder." The man kept his hands as raised as possible, trying to show he wasn't there to harm Akane. "And she, like many others, has been looking for a way out. Recently, thanks to events I'm not at liberty to describe, she is closer than ever to finding a way out."

The man placed a finger up to his head. "But she needs someone smart..." And then, he pointed at the ship. "And knowledgeable of the inner workings of interstellar travel. In other words, Ms. Owari, I am here to offer you a job. The salary is a way back to your original planet, no questions asked." There was a pause, as if the man was smiling behind his mask. "Do I have your interest?"

Anna's rightful smile disappeared the instant Miki made her allegiances clear, and the diminutive nurse spent the rest of Akane's response glaring up at her, nostrils flaring in anger. "Fine. Fine! I'll tell the other teachers to keep the kids inside." She turned to Miki with an accusing jab. "But if she's going to interrogate the poor kid, I want you and Noel to stick with her."

"You Fusiliers are great at protecting the city, but you don't know our kids." The nurse turned to Akane, hands behind her back as she put on the fakest sweet smile possible. "And I bet you know the advantage of having your trusted men handling an important operation, don't you?" She hummed, before turning to Miki and Noel, making a 'keep an eye on her' motion, and then turning back to Akane with that same, fake smile.

When no confirmation came, Wolnee opted to leave his lips as dry as possible- despite a sharp whine from Meiddus- and chose instead to just stare at Zemo. He tried to stay as calm and as emotionless as possible (one ounce of fear or anger might give this weird man the wrong impression), and as such, once the request for information came to him, Wolnee complied with uncharacteristic control.

"Me, Meiddus and the General were at our post." He began, taking a deep breath. "I then heard a voice, one I hadn't heard in a long, long time..." A brief, fitting glance at the wall. "My Mom. She died years ago, before I came here, to Balder. She told me... something a-about an unmarked?" He struggled with the words. "I remember that word, unmarked. She emphasized it. But when she finished talking, that was when everything went dark. I suppose because someone punched me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that... enough? I really don't know what else I can say."

Edited by Stratofarius on Jul 18th 2018 at 12:08:21 PM

Matt Murdock; Office Of The Same - Or, Who's Always Been Like That?

I most definitely do not take a seat. Instead, I stay standing, hook my thumbs in my bright red pockets and keep the breeze in my voice.

"'The unmarked grave ends the reaping?' Never heard it in my life. Whoever our invader is, he's definitely not one for subtlety."

The cane's by my side. I could snatch it up, sure, but by the time she's decided to shoot me it'll be too late to try batting at bullets. And I only pulled that stunt once. Twenty years ago. On an untrained thug.

I'm a bit slower than I was, but I like to think I'm also slightly smarter.

"I'm the judge here, remember? You're supposed to bring me the evidence, not grill me for it with a gun in your hands."

I give what I hope is a wry look. She's not that dangerous. Sure, she can kill, just like all the other pups in Jengbish's overlong kennel — but she's not about to kill me, even if I really am possessed. That would be murder of the entire judiciary, and she just doesn't have the teeth. Or the orders.

It's a change from Wake, that's for sure. I guess I'll help her out. But first, some housekeeping.

I take my hands out of my pockets and lean on the desk.

"Magda Licht, I knew you were here the moment you set foot on the fake marble steps of this fake marble courthouse, because I heard the tread of your toes in those boots of yours, found them different from the usual fare and marked it as something to note. I can taste your sweat on the air. I can taste everything you had for breakfast on the air. Don't worry, I try not to judge. At least, not on this floor."

For a moment, I look appropriately Grim and Serious and Tortured Inside — then I break out into a wide grin.

"What I'm saying is, if it's physical, I can probably work out where it's from, given enough reference points. I know what Balder smells like. And if you really want my help, then you can either take me to the evidence or tell me that you can't."

I pick up my cane, give it a twirl, and saunter out towards the door, right past Mags and her loaded subcompact. Then I pause.

"Besides," I admit, "I'll need some help getting past my wife."

Agnes Tristram; Outside Balder Supreme Court - Or, The World-Ending Catfight Begins

It was almost poetic. Here she was, stuck in meatspace, face-to-face with a woman who could break steel girders with a twitch of her nose. There was a line about the cold hard smirk of unyielding reality hidden in here. Somewhere.

On second thoughts, Agnes had never been one for poetry. So she swallowed her own cold hard smirk, and kept her very professional smile plastered right over her very unprofessional spite.

"I can confirm, Ms. Beifong, that my tea-making skills are still very much in demand."

Unlike you, the undertone was. It was a very polite insinuation.

"Can I make you a cup in the waiting room? I wouldn't want to keep you here for longer than you have to. I know you're very busy."

There is no waiting room, the undertone was. It was a very specific insinuation.

Edited by troydenite on Jul 19th 2018 at 1:13:57 AM

Maggy and the Judge: Courtroom Drama

Aight, weirdness over. It took me until now to actually settle characterisation for the poor bitch.

"Matt, sit down."

The gun cocked somewhere behind Murdock's head, maybe ten feet, without tact or necessity.

"I'm not here for your help." said Magda, quiet but simmeringly precise, as if explaining the way of the world to a five year old who'd just eaten her lunch. "My orders are to secure our assets, and I would like if if I could call you one, but you are a dangerous man. You know these streets better than anyone. If I take you out there and I'm wrong, you could disappear down some alley and they would never find you. They would never find me. I know what you did for me when I arrived here, Murdock, and I'm grateful, but I'd rather have you as a corpse or a cripple than as an enemy. There are contingencies the commander is willing to accept."

She didn't close in. Her back was to the wall, sights trained centre of mass, because she happened to have had it on the best of authorities that he could throw that cane like a javelin.

"This is much bigger than you're assuming. It's definitely bigger than whatever you think you're proving. So stop being like this for three minutes, sit down, and I can take you to a man your wife refuses share a building with."

Edited by OG-Sama on Jul 18th 2018 at 5:10:32 AM

Sin Kiske, Eastern Gates

("Knew it!")

Sin's suspicions that those exact words had already been finding transit were confirmed as the vox-man yielded a receiver towards him, after whispering grievances about how this should've only been happening in the City Center. It was true, then, that Commander Kiryuin had caught word of this already. Now there was no reason not to send word of another incident her way.

Nodding in thanks, Sin took the receiver in his hand and held it up to his ear with a smile without even noticing the distance the vox-man was keeping between the two of them.

"Fusilier Sin Kiske from the Eastern Quadrant on the line, here to report an incident."

The third time he had to describe what he'd heard, and he was still reluctant to say whose voice it was he heard. It was still unbelievable to him, why would that Naturalist guy choose to sound like his long-lost mother? And how did he even do that? Questions for another time.

"Just a few minutes ago we repelled an attack from a pack of Pincae chasing a group of Naturalists. After we'd fended them off, one of the Naturalists made a direct threat towards us. He said-..."

He paused briefly, the disbelief still catching up to him.

"He said, in a different voice than he had before; 'the unmarked will begin their reaping'. He then disappeared, and he's currently at large."

Noel Vermillion, Wayne High

After the matter of Lísu's parents had been settled by Mister Mauty, a squadron of Fusiliers appeared on the scene. Noel still recognized those vehicles, but this General less so.

The steady voice of authority triggered Noel's trained instinct to shut the hell up. She even caught herself trying to stand at attention, just barely stopping herself from saluting. It'd been her way of making it through the NOL. It had also been her way of making it through the Fusiliers.

'Keep your head down and follow orders'.

General Akane had requested that everyone return to the school, presumably to wait for further instruction. Anna kicked up a fuss over it, not thinking it was a good idea. Miki agreed with the General, believing that having them in school made it easier to protect them.

Picking a side of the conflict had never been Noel's strong suit, not when she didn't have someone she trusted mixed into it.

Luckily for her, she did.

"I-I'm with Miss Kuroda. Until this incident blows over, if it does, we should keep them in our sights as much as we can afford to."

The burning question of a mysterious threat began eating away at her, and she just remembered that a few children were elsewhere, Vigil among them.

She bit her lip. A part of her thought that maybe he shouldn't have gone. But that wasn't fair to Franklin or Yui. Someone needed to look out for them, and it might as well have been a tough kid like Vigil. He reminded her so much of him... even now, Ragna the Bloodedge held a firm grasp on her memories. While the mystery of what she was and where she came from had been solved years ago with terrible and mind-breaking consequences, she never figured out why she felt such a connection to that man. Because at her current age, she could no longer deny it. There was a connection.

Back in the present, Miki reassured her worries with a plan of action; go about the school day.

Miki rarely failed to put Noel at ease. It was a kind of presence she'd felt before in the world she left behind, and it was a feeling she was glad to have found again in this new world, when she had thought it was lost for the longest time. With her new friend, with her husband...

Noel's smile was bright. Things would be alright for now.

Vigil Kiske, Santa Barbara, en route to Wayne High

Not thinking it through? At all?

Shucks, that was how Vigil did most things.

Vigil let the answer stew as they kept moving. Maybe it was because Yui was the daughter of that badass commander of the Fusiliers that his parents told him about? She was probably a stickler for discipline and stuff, which was badass in its own way, but that way was not Vigil's way.

Even if Toph was going to bury his ass in the pavement with her earth-shifting bullshit, he would've just been glad that he tried, that he stood up to a jerk.

"Yeah. I would've still fought her."

Up ahead, the duo saw one of their fellow students, Mami Tomoe. Apparently, she'd been looking for them. Probably saw him taking off after Frankie and Yui.

"We're good, Mami, thanks."

Yui did the talking once again, asking if Mami had seen Frankie reach the school.

Edited by LatverianBadger on Jul 27th 2018 at 10:51:47 PM

Balder Capitol Building, Reception: Regarding the One Who Never Grieves

The Chimera-Ant's presence did manage to deter Link's stage fright a bit; it was nice to know that not all hundred and twenty eyes weren't solely on him anymore. So turning back to his train of thought, the Champion closed his eyes, pinched his chin with a thumb and index finger, and spoke:

"It all depends on what 'marks' someone. If this figure is described only as 'unmarked,' it would have to hold some sort of significance. Something everyone else—all the 'marked'—didn't qualify for. Something that's generally viewed as a universal rule, or an absolute truth."

Link's eyes opened, staring sharply at the spider-lady. "Death. My guess is that the 'Unmarked One' is a being that can never die. There's only one creature I know of who fits that description, and 'reaping' definitely matches its goals."

For half a heartbeat, it seemed like the lad wouldn't name the monster. He'd been so close to defeating it back at the Castle, only to be swept away at the last minute! Who knows how much longer Princess Zelda could keep the beast at bay; maybe she'd already lost the fight. Maybe all of Hyrule had been swallowed up into night, now that some cosmic prank had dropped the Sword that Seals the Darkness an entire dimension away.

...and if Link could find his way to Balder, who's to say that doorway wasn't still open; just outside the Castle Sanctum; where the beast's physical form lay waiting?

"Calamity Ganon may be coming to Balder."

Balder City, Construction Site: Martin Hatch: A Day in The Life of 'The Boss'

Perhaps Flowerbottle noticed the quizzical look growing on Martin Hatch's face; perhaps he didn't care. Yet once the tailor tycoon had finished speaking, Mr. Hatch picked up the dialogue hardly a blink after Fourblossom gave him his blessing to leave.

"There is that word again." Hatch pondered curiously, "'Employer.' I understand your misconceptions, Mr. Flowerbottle, but allow me to make one point perfectly clear: Alan Wake is not my 'employer.' We are partners, and equal shareholders in ITCH, but it is I who decides the company's future. Should you need anything from us—off-planet supplies, cargo ships, anything apart from a chance to get high at a nightclub—you will speak to me."

Satisfied that his stature and polite smile had gotten the point across, Martin nodded farewell to Mr. Flowerbottle. As he stepped past the brick-wall of a bodyguard, Hatch offered over his shoulder: "My business should be concluded by nightfall, should you wish to visit my office: 13 Finn Street, fifth floor. I will tell the secretary to expect you, but please—two guards maximum. I would hate for any of my employees to get the wrong idea about you."

So with those parting words, Martin continued walking with cane and briefcase in hand. A smile swelled on his face. He was notably proud of that encounter; Wake wouldn't have lasted two minutes with that little worm blocking his path, talking down to him like that. His partner knew how to put on an entertaining show, but...well, he knew firsthand how much of a psychopath Alan Wake truly was.

Hatch imagined what he might've seen if he allowed Flowerbottle to talk 'business' with Wake unsupervised: strolling into the Cauldron's pent house, he would find crimson puddles staining the floor, the largest ones pooling around the corpse of that burly woman and her equally large counterpart. The cause of death for either would've been an inanimate object suddenly coming to life; some fire-pokers, a bookshelf, or a portion of the spiral staircase that had been ripped off and twisted into a projectile. Provoked to protect his own interests, Lucius would probably handle the marksmen: swift and precise kills, like the trained professional he was. Hearing the screams of her employer and coworkers, the Mutant lookout might try to call for help, before an inky black figure dragged her off to be gutted somewhere private.

So Martin would walk into that scene, find his friend and business partner soaked in whatever colored blood Mr. Flowerbottle had, and scowl.

What on Earth were you thinking, Scratch?! he would shout, maybe even pointing to the sickly-skinned corpse that had its chest ripped open like a high school frog dissection.

I was curious! Wake would shrug with a grin. He's got these weird ears and hair and skin, I wanted to know if he was an alien!

...Yes, Martin judged that keeping Wake and Flowerbottle away from each other was the responsible move.

With that mental bullet dodged, Martin Hatch turned the corner and entered the construction site proper.

"Good afternoon, Chancellor." he greeted Jo'on as he approached. "May I have a word with you for a moment? I have a proposition for you."

Edited by TheodoreHastings on Jul 20th 2018 at 11:08:07 AM

The comment on whether he had just performed his art on the thief garnered a slightly confused look from Yusuke. Obviously the thief was the primary actor in that performance piece. Though he supposed by intervening, he himself had taken to the stage. He wouldn't really call it his art however. Live stage was hardly his forte. The mention of a potential work did help simplify things for the Phantom Thief.

"I am always on the look for commissioned work. Simply tell me what you desire and you can consider it done."

Even in his reserved manner, one could feel the excitement he had at the prospect of the job. An entire place? Would this his own Sistine Chapel? With such his gracious canvas, what should he paint? He supposed that was up to the patron. But still, he could feel the creative juices flowing through his brain at the prospect.

Jo'on - Construction Site

"Hmm?" said Jo'on, turning to regard this newcomer. "I guess I can spare a moment. What is it you want?"

If she recalled correctly, this one had just been in dialogue with the fancy-looking one that had bothered the workers. That was sufficient to pique Jo'on's interest.

"I mean, from what I picked up, you seem to be that Loki guy, the original warrior!"

Okuyasu maybe knew a bit more, but he also knew that Cage & Friends was about as accurate as Rohan's manga about his adventures, so he kept his mouth shut.

Pre Vizsla maintained a calm composure, but inwardly was practically jumping, not exactly out of joy, but something close enough. To take back Mandalore? A melding of the new Secret Mandalorians and the old ones. He could bring Loki and Erron to meet Gar Saxon and Bo-Katan. It would be slightly unorthodox to have four lieutenants, but he would make it work. And the chance to finally equip his newer men with blasters and jetpacks, as was traditional to Death Watch?

A shade of worry passed through his mind. What had happened in the years he had been gone? Had Gar Saxon or Bo-Katan took charge of Death Watch? What if the Republic or Confederacy had finally lain hands on Mandalore and replaced the weak New Mandalorians with their own puppets, but backed by a far more vast army than Death Watch could handle? Then the shade passed out of his mind. Death Watch would never die. He would rise up against the Duchess, or whoever had replaced her. If it was the Republic or the Confederacy? Well, Vizsla was no stranger to fighting from the shadows.

Recruiting individuals Vizsla could do, even though mostly Death Watch recruiters took from the citizens living on the outer edges or Fusiliers. For them to really spread their recruiting farther into the City would be a slight challenge, but one he could easily push for.

"Just tell me where these 'special individuals' are and we'll find a way to get them working for us. And I'm no stranger to magic." Well, actually he sort of was, but he knew of the Dathomirian Nightsisters' witchery, and that was close enough.

When Scratch mentioned setting free Envy, Vizsla's eyebrows went up, if only slightly. Envy had been quite dangerous, even to his allies at times, and Vizsla had of course 'helped' put him away, if only because Vizsla had still seen some of those people as potential allies and didn't want them dead. But he still remembered Envy crystal clear, and his abilities as well.

There was a long pause where Vizsla's eyebrows scrunched up and he said nothing. Then. slowly, he smiled. "Yes. It must have been quite a boring few decades for him. Perhaps he could do with some fresh air."

Vizsla took another sip of his drink, still smiling. "I assume getting Envy will be our top priority? Just fill me in on details and what Death Watch needs to do, and I'll get my best men on it. And myself, of course."

Balder Capitol War Room

There was a soft thud of the nearest doors swinging on their hinges, followed by a low whistle as if to make up for the lack of a rusty squeak.

“This is the digs, huh?” N’Jadaka said as he strolled in, all the force with which he’d used to throw the doors open behind him temporarily absent. The hands squeezed into his pockets widened his gait as he sauntered forward into the room, picking apart and appraising the technological advancements around him with his eyes as if he’d just wandered onto a show-dog floor. “Funny how things can change when you’re away for a decade.” Swinging behind him in turn with his lackadaisical pace, in contrast to his high-tech surroundings, was a simple M4 assault rifle◊ that was nicked and scratched along the body as though it were a well-used sword’s blade rather than a high-efficiency ranged weapon. The breech was conspicuously empty, with twin ammo magazines instead hanging off of either hip and clapping gently against his thighs in time with his movements like the flippers of a marine mammal, each scrawled with cryptic chalk markings presumably meant to detail ammo count and the condition of the magazines themselves. Attached to the underside of the barrel and sticking out past the long muzzle was by far the most noticeable addition, a lengthy spear head◊ that went a long way toward making the sleek modern weapon look like an ancient instrument of war. “It has been a minute.”

“So, let me count it off.” The Western Quadrant General began, nestling his fingers in his chin beard as he stopped next to the digital representation of his own territory, putting on a show of mock contemplation. “The Haina ride on the way over here, charming my way through all ‘a y’all’s checkpoints, and—oh yeah—co-opting my emergency message intercept jus' so you can pretend to be on top of things. That’s a loooooot of my time you’ve wasted this far, when instead I could be out there, dealin’ with this shit.” N’Jadaka dropped his thoughtful pretense and braced his hands on the edge of the table, affixing Satsuki with a glare that speared her just as surely as his scar speared the edge of his smile. “So tell me, Commander,” he said, leveraging the word as a clear stand-in for something else much less pleasant, “how much more of my time are you really gonna waste?”

Wayne School Courtyard

“Safe.” Miki responded to Akane simply, taking the opportunity to attempt to give Noel’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, letting her know what the Devilman thought when it came to who was best suited to keep the group of wayward children safe. “For now. But they’ll be back soon, and I’d like to get all of this cleaned up before they do.” She then looked down at Nurse Anna, flashing a smile that was tinged with both reassurance and penitence, keenly aware of how she’d reneged on the nurse’s trust just seconds before. “And you don’t have to worry about Lísu going anywhere without me. Am I right?” She asked with a mostly rhetorical glance toward Akane, in a tone that nevertheless wavered on the edge between polite defiance and deferential wariness; there was at least one General who might very well remove her head for a comment like that.

Miki would then turn her attention to Lísu, feeling that it had been too long since someone had included him the conversation that was, after all, primarily about him. “Hey.” She would say, crouching down to get on the same level as the wheelchair. “I just want to remind you, none of this is your fault. Whatever is happening, we’ll get to the bottom of it. Because we’re your teachers, and we’re here to protect you.” She reached up a hand to fuss with his hair some more, though less because he actually needed it after wiping himself down, and more to take his mind off of the situation. “Soon, your parents will be here, we’ll be able to ask them some questions, and it’ll be alllll better—” Miki froze mid-muss, a cold clarity suddenly informing her exactly how the Fusiliers could be here, so fast and so close to the time of the incident. “His parents are coming, right?” She directed to the gathered Fusiliers, once again scanning the be-sashed group before landing, inevitably, on Akane, silent accusations of waylaid messengers rising in turn with her eyebrow.

Edited by Uncandescent on Jul 28th 2018 at 3:21:59 PM

"Are they?" Toph feigned surprise at Agnes' response. "Well, color me surprised. I don't remember many things, but I remember your tea." She replied, 'gently' poking Agnes in the chest before smirking widely. "I mean, how can someone forget the-"

The poking finger turned into an open palm as Toph held Agnes down by her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she looked up, sensing something... unusual coming from Matt's office. "Who's that on his office with him?" Her eyes narrowed, the grip on Agnes's shoulder tightening. "Why is she armed? Isn't it your job to stop things like that from happening?"

Ebby remained silent, and her eyes traveled back and forth, waiting for someone to pop the question. "Right, fine, I'll bite it." She crossed her arms and shrugged. "What's Calamity Ganon supposed to be? Should I recognize that name?" She even turned to Xola and raised an eyebrow. "I mean... should I? I never really paid attention to history class."

The mention of commissioned work made the woman smile. "Alright, now we're talking." She hummed, stretching her arms and motioning for Yusuke to follow her. "Now, the way we work is that you do a job for us, and we get you whatever you want. Turns out a lot of people here have needs that Balder can't fulfill. And we fulfill those needs."

"So what's your area of expertise?" She asked, slinging an arm around Yusuke's shoulders. "You don't look like the kind of person who knows how to extort, let alone kidnap... but you seem nimble. If I told you to steal something, how fast could you get it for me? And how... hard can the object in question be?"

As Hatch left Flowerbottle behind, the tailor tycoon put on his glasses once more, popped open his umbrella and let a terrible scowl wash over his face. "He won't cooperate." He muttered to the agreement of his largest bodyguard. "I hate it when that happens." Looking up at her, he smiled. "Tell one of the others to get me some Grubby Bits before we head home, please?"

The sound of scribbling preceded the receiver's short answer. "Thank you for your report. Keep a watchful eye." The wireman grabbed the receiver from Sin's hands once they confirmed that the call had been concluded, at which point the vox-man rubbed his head, sighing to himself. "Sure hope that's not a bad sign, kid..."

As if on a cue, the high-pitched sound of an alarm spread throughout the eastern gate's headquarters. The corridors outside suddenly filled up with Fusiliers, some of them rushing to their uniforms and gear, some of them moving towards the gates or the watchtowers. "What's going on?!" The vox-man asked a passerby, who was right in the middle of putting on her uniform.

"A Decapod migration!" The young woman said, struggling to slide her arm into the sleeve and talk at the same time. "There's too many to count... all of them heading towards us- command says we can't let 'em get any closer!"

Loki stared at Okuyasu deep and hard. His face was now stuck in a permanent disappointed frown. Even as the people around him were stirred into action by the alarm, he remained unfazed... unmoving... frowning. "Aren't you..." He took a looooong, deeeep breath. "... sssssssmaaaaaarrrrrt."

The growing confusion around him did elicit a raised eyebrow. "I suppose you have your duties?" He waved at the Fusiliers. "Or... you can take my hand, and I'll bring you somewhere else, and we can work to... toget..." He scoffed and spat the word. "... together... to ensure both of us get exactly what we deserve."

"I'll be the brains, you'll be the... uhm... brawn." Loki poked at Okuyasu's arms before holding out his hand. "How about it?"

"I sent a messenger to go after Lisu's parents! There is, of course, the chance that our General here might have actually intercepted him?" Mister Mauty spoke up, but he did instinctively take a step back when the Fusiliers turned their attention towards him. "Perhaps it would have been wiser to send one of the teachers instead? I know Ms. Vermillion can defend herself with ease, for example."

Lísu had chosen to remain as quiet as possible during the whole ordeal, and was shyly twiddling his thumbs even as General Akane made herself known. When Miki lowered herself to his level, though, he frowned and leaned closer to her. "But Miss..." He muttered, sniffing. "It was my Mom's voice who made me say all those things... it was her, I know it.... what if they're not okay? What if they're in danger?"

Such are we that in this art of war are like unto the serpent, who poise hidden from the sight of men, who strike swift, and hold such venom in our mouths that none dare tread where we may lie.

—The Coward-Primogenitor Alpharius Omegon, Commentaries of the Nine Archdevils

Bloodfather-General Jengbish, Balder Capitol War Room

Jengbish took a deep breath, and starved the fire in his belly down to a low smoulder. Behind him he felt the boy Nier tense, and forestalled him with a raised palm.

The General of the West had made himself a problem from the moment they'd first met, and thereafter done nothing to challenge Jengbish's initial appraisal; Some up-trumped genome stuck back in some dirty little ethno-war, all uncut ego and technobarbarity. There was a strength swirling around in there he recognised, but without direction it was meaningless. The boy had never really understood his mandate.

He didn't bother standing. The boy was volatile, but he'd never been suicidal.

"As much of it as she sees fit," he growled. "If you have something useful for us, then let us hear it. Tell us who our enemy is. List our loyal assets and point us towards their throat. If you can't, then stop this tantrum and sit down. Brashness will poison us as surely as indecision, boy."

Balder Capitol Building, Reception

As the conversation continued, Cassiopeia had crossed an arm over her chest and propped an elbow on it, bringing palm to cheek as she thought.

"Oh no, I don't think it's something you would recognize, dear," the Mayor assured Ebby with a shake of her head, "If my guess is correct, Calamity Ganon is a terrible menace of some kind from this young man's universe of origin, and he is concerned that it may find its way here to Balder... and in that case, I have good news!" She beamed at the blue-clad youth whose name she still didn't know. "You see, the portals which bring people here close very soon after opening, so unless you saw it within several minutes of your arrival, there is no possibility whatsoever that any such villain followed you!"

"That said, I shall keep your interpretation of this riddle in mind. Perhaps it does have to do with an immortal, perhaps not. Perhaps the lines that each of you heard are not even connected. We certainly need more information before we can make a judgement. Nevertheless, thank you for bringing this to my attention." The verdant-haired woman offered the prophesying pair a graceful half-bow.

"Now then, my schedule for the day is open, so why don't we stop bothering our poor receptionists and continue this conversation in my office? I can meet with you as well, Miss Xoladroskisce, if you don't mind a small crowd." Hovering over to the other side of the desk, she extended an arm to the four guests. "Just grab onto me and I shall teleport us directly there."

Balder Capitol Building, War Room

Immediately in front of the poor, abused doors, an orb of blue light suddenly perturbed the air. Rapidly inflating to the size of a person, it just as quickly faded and gave way to the robed form of Balder's Mayor, who surveyed the tension of the scene and let out a disappointed breath through her nose, even as she kept up a pleasant smile.

Floating her way over to the space next to Satsuki, Cassiopeia rejected the possibility of an actual chair, instead settling down into an invisible cushion of air and crossing her legs. "Commander, Generals, Captain Idias," she greeted each with a nod, "Who are we still waiting on to begin?"

Edited by darksidevoid on Jul 29th 2018 at 6:00:39 AM

Balder City, Cauldron Pent House: Here's the Plan, Stan

Mr. Scratch watched the Mandalorian's expression like a hawk. He liked Vizsla—might even call him a friend, if he got into a sentimental mood—but the leader of the Death Watch had already expressed Scratch's biggest fear of this meeting: men can change with age. There may have been a time when Vizsla might have meditated facing the other god-killers in battle, but that man was thirty-five years younger than the old timer sipping booze right now. It wasn't just youthful arrogance Scratch had to worry about, either. Vizsla had a new Death Watch on Balder, and while that was definitely the biggest plus in keeping him in the loop, there was always a chance the Mandalorian might turn the offer down because of his new army. This proposition was borderline treasonous, and if something went wrong they'd both be neck-deep in their ol' god-killer pals and their Fusilier dogs. Assuming he wasn't a dreamer, Vizsla could easily say that the risks outweighed the rewards. Then, to keep his plan a secret, Scratch would have to do something he really, really didn't want to do.

...and then just like that, the danger passed. Vizsla was on board, and ready to kick some ass! If his eyesight hadn't failed too much, the Mandalorian might notice Alan's body language shift. He sat back in his chair, moving more comfortably and less 'rehearsed,' as if he'd been nursing a hint of doubt since the beginning, and was relieved he could finally bury it.

"Yes, Envy's our top priority." Scratch grinned with the suppressed giddiness of a child getting a free pick of a new toy at the store. "Don't worry about these 'recruits' I need. They're all civilians, far as I can tell. Besides, this won't work if they don't come willingly. We can circle back to what I'm looking for in 'recruits' later. Who knows? Maybe there's one or two Athenians among your Spartans."

Scratch explored the idea for a moment before shaking it out of his head. He was getting way too ahead of himself.

"So far as Envy goes: you might remember that we locked him up in as close to Balder's core as we could reach. Turns out that little tunnel's become part of the water treatment plant north of town. Couldn't tell you much about guards or other security, but I wouldn't have called you all the way here if I thought it'd be easy. That said, I don't want the Death Watch taking point; no use in blowing your cover when we could send in expendables and pin it all on a natural accident at the same time."

A sip, a smirk, and Scratch continued. "Truth is, Viz, you're not the only one who's managed to collect some muscle. Back in the day, I made a deal with our favorite Holier-Than-Thou backstabber: in exchange for participating in its wild goose chase, I got a little power-up from back home. Using it back then was way too risky, but now...well, I've got some marvelous toys to play with.

"I've never named them myself, but someone very close to me called them the Taken. Once upon a time, they were normal folks: they worked, ate, drank, slept, shit, and fucked just like most of us. Then, one day, their luck ran out. Might've taken a bad fall outside the city, or maybe a feral thorsnap decided to take a few nibbles, or maybe they just crossed me when I was in a pissy mood. Whatever happened, I fill them with the Dark Presence and use them as my puppets. Got more than twenty of them wandering Balder and the other planets right now. Most of them stick to protecting ITCH's outposts, but I keep a few special baddies in reserve for special occasions. They're fast, tough, strong motherfuckers, and to top it all off they look a lot like those funny shadow mock-ups that make most city folks shit their britches! Y'know, the Pseudodit...Pseudosont...those shady shrieky fuckers! Jesus, who comes up with these names?"

Back on track, Alan set down his glass and clasped his hands together. "So here's what I'm thinking: we camp your Death Watch near the treatment plant, I send in the Taken from the north to deal with the outer defenses—make it look like they were on their way into town, like those shady-shrieky fuckers like to do—then the Death Watch flanks the survivors and take them out before the Fusiliers get notice. My puppets can take a beating, but they're not invincible, and there ain't much going on upstairs. At the very least, I'll need to be around to make sure they don't start cutting up your men."

Scratch chuckled at the joke, only to realize a moment later that it might've been in bad taste. So he switched topics: "I probably don't need to say this, but this is a 'leave no witnesses' job; apart from freeing good ol' Jelly, I don't like the idea of Madame Mayor or Commander Kiri knowing about the Taken. We find anyone in there, we kill them. No exceptions."

After rubbing his hands together for a moment, Mr. Scratch offered a hand for Pre Vizsla to shake.

"So: do we have a deal?"

Balder City, Construction Site: What's In the Briefcase

"My name is Martin Hatch." the newcomer smiled politely as he extended a hand to shake. "I am the CEO of the Interplanetary Transportation and Cultivation House. It has come to my attention that the government has uncovered a...peculiar area inside the planet—near a spot you may be familiar with, Chancellor, since I recall hearing that the so-called god-killers used it as a tunnel on their way to take Balder's life. To cut to the chase, ITCH is interested in purchasing this land from the government."

Glancing around the construction site, Martin gestured to an empty table the workers no doubt used to eat their lunches. He walked over to the table, inviting Jo'on to join him, then set the heavy briefcase down to open it. When he was sure that the workers (or Flowerbottle, for that matter) was far enough away not to see, he turned to the Chancellor with a smile.

"For incentive..."

What Jo'on would find inside the briefcase would not only put a smile on her face, it might also shift her opinion on the CEO's physique: six gold bars (small, nonstandard cuts) were secured tightly inside the container, making it an offer of over fifty pounds of precious metal.

"Sign off on clearance for me to examine this area, and the briefcase is yours. Should I determine that ITCH may profit from the site, I can give you nine more briefcases just like this one."

Northern Quadrant Ranch

Anansi swore she felt Guzma’s gaze digging into her back just as intensely as the needle mechanism that had originally given her her ink, and she felt for sure he was about to see through her ploy to distract him long enough for the rest of his family to get there—the motion of her scissoring fingers anxiously dwindling and dying off as she waited for a verdict. What she got, however, was something as rare and exotic as the urban legends flitting about the Capitol: a genuine smile, or at least laugh, from her idol. Anansi’s cheeks swelled and filled with blood as her mouth opened in surprise, tapering into a wide smile as her body trembled and rocked in place from the tacit acknowledgement of her artwork. Her brain was already filling with reassurances to prove him wrong—Of course we can do it! With this material and that paint, ooh, and with the skills of someone like him—when he suddenly asked her a question that sent her thought processes screeching to a halt.

“Umm… Hmm.” Anansi said in sudden deliberation, pressing her index finger up against the dimple of her chin to press her bottom lip up contemplatively. “I dunno… lots of places. Usually they come from stories, either ones I’ve heard, or ones that I want to tell. Like this one—” Anansi hurriedly backed up in response to Guzma doing the same, bumping up against the counter before hoisting herself up onto its surface, clasping her hands in her lap and sitting with her eyes emptily searching the ceiling while she conjured up a memory. “This one in particular, my dad told me when I was growing up. He told me a couple different stories, but this is the one I remember the most, because he always said it was the most important lesson he’d ever learned, and he wanted me to learn it early.

“In it, there are these animals called Panthers—kinda like Pyprans, but waaaay bigger, and with only one head, crazy right?—that lived in a city that was super huge and prosperous. But unlike with Balder, there were a bunch of other cities around them, some close, some reeeeeeeally far away. But no matter where they were, none of them had the things the Panthers had, and in the time it took those other cities to sharpen their claws, the Panthers already knew how to hide in the trees, and build stuff using what they found there. The Panthers kept hiding for like, a crazy amount of time, and even though the rest of the animals never got where the Panthers were, the whole time the Panthers could have either pounced on them, or helped them up. But they never said anything, so the other animals never noticed anything, and the Panthers got to keep the way they lived safe from everyone else.

“But just because the Panther city was safe, that didn’t mean there weren’t other Panthers that lived in other places. Panthers that didn’t get into the city before it climbed up were taken and made to do stuff by the other animals, because their claws were sharp and they were good at doing the hunting the other animals didn’t want to do. After like all those hundreds of years, most Panthers didn’t even know about the Panther city, and just had to live with being in places where the Panther city couldn’t protect them. But then, something happened.

“The leader of the Panthers had a brother, and that brother went down with the rest of the animals for a little while to check up on things, without letting them know who he was. This Panther met a whole lot of other Panthers, and most of them weren’t too happy with their lot in life—but they didn’t know things could be better, and the Panther from the Panther city did, and it made him feel really, really guilty. So, working with a really nasty beast that only had one claw, he managed to get some of the things from the Panther city down to the Panthers on the surface, to make their lives better and help fight off some of the other animals. But the Panther city leader found out about what his brother did, and came down to stop him. The leader Panther’s brother fought back, and, well, he died.”

Anansi fell silent for a moment, her face reflecting the melancholy she’d usually felt as a child when they reached this part of the story. Just because her father had insisted on telling it over and over again, didn’t make it any less sad. “But what the Panthers from the city didn’t know, is that the leader Panther’s brother had a daughter. She was raised to believe that she was just like the other Panthers on the ground, after her father died, but she never forgot what her dad had told her about a city of Panthers waiting in the treetops. So she spent her whole life preparing to meet them, working for other animals to do the hunting they didn’t want to in order to train, until finally, she was ready to face the leader Panther and use her right as blood to challenge him for the position of leader.”

Anansi’s fingers were in the middle of determinedly jouncing up and down next to her upper jaw in a mock-up of sharp fangs, when her attention drifted to the house’s nearest time-keeping implement and her eyes widened like a comedian who’d given up too much of the punchline before finishing the set-up. “But there’s a bunch of backstory to go through first! Like how she teamed back up with the beast with one claw, or how she hunted down the toughest prey around, or how the other animals even gave her a nickname: Slayslasher.” Anansi held for a dramatic pause with her arms held out, waiting for a reaction before continuing.

Edited by Uncandescent on Jul 31st 2018 at 2:32:31 PM

Balder Capitol Building - Asriel

When Cassiopeia offered an arm, Asriel took it. He looks to Link and said, "She's a friend mine, you can trust her."

Eastern Gates - Laura

"Don't forget a physical description," Laura said to Sin, ignoring the rebuttal of the vox-man. What did catch her attention was when the alarm went off. As soon as the woman said the cause was an incoming Decapod migration, the mutant sprinted to the walls. It was earlier than usual that this happened again, but even without the General in the area, protocol was still in place for what to do in this situation.

While most would be scared in her place, she stands fearlessly outside the gate, staring down the incoming migration. They had about as much fear as her, and less brain, so rerouting them was out of the question. There was only one thing that can stop them.

SNIKT

Edited by goldenshark on Aug 4th 2018 at 11:52:40 AM