Drummer Boy
[Hotel Room 106]
<oh our technology just isn't there yet, i guess. brains are complicated>
Implants would definitely save Arthur a bit of time, and multitasking on his tablet would definitely be whole a lot easier, but it was a pretty high price to pay for a little convenience. His parents looked into it because they wanted the best for him, but really, it wasn't a big deal to him that they couldn't afford it. He was mostly just bitter about trauma-induced muteness not being covered by their insurance.
<where you come from, is there a tendency to find a way for devices to compensate for a medical issue rather than use biological research to fix the problem at the source? or is it the other way around?>
[Mountain Pass Campsite]
Three thousand years of living made people pretty cynical, apparently. This was pretty depressing. Wasn't it tiring to be so bitter and nihilistic? It was a shame he didn't have much else to listen to. Cyrus quietly resolved to avoid discussing Fenrir culture and society around Blair.
He picked up one of the sticks, carefully looking it over. The number of sparks in the air doubled and he gathered them closer around his head so he could better see what he was doing. He took a sheathed knife out of a coat pocket. The sheath and the bone handle were etched with an intricate pattern, but his slender fingers quickly wrapped around them and covered them up as he unsheathed the knife and stuffed the sheath into his pocket again. Then he got to work making the arrow shaft uniform in thickness, working even more carefully than he would if were alone. He wasn't in the mood to have a cranky old—no, ancient—person criticize his workmanship, especially after the comment he made earlier, but he felt pretty safe. He was even more emotionally invested in honing his skills than most Fenrir. Matthias said that it showed. But not always in a good way.
edited 11th Jan '16 1:37:36 AM by SnowyFoxes
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!
Friendly Neighborhood Lich
Railway Street, just outside the Train Station
Meanwhile out in the streets, a very short and peculiar-looking woman was grateful that the sandstorm had subsided. She was rather short, her chin only at waist-height of most humans, but she was also wearing a pointed, wide-brimmed hat half as tall as her body. This hat, in addition the matching black capelet draped around her shoulders, made her look rather like a pre-teen girl trick-or-treating as a witch at first glance.
After walking a few steps down the street, she paused to look up at the moon which had just become visible. Her face was so flat and pale that it seemed to almost glow in the moonlight, as did the white dress and boots she was wearing. A single pointed tooth stuck out from her otherwise closed smile, and her light gray hair fluttered like streamers below her hat. Meanwhile, her large cone-shaped ears threatened to push the hat right off her head from underneath.
But when she looked back down and all around, her smile faded, instead turning into a frown of disappointment. "Unfortunate it seems," she fretted. "Barren, dry, as far as I can see. Yet, this becomes it more interesting." Each word was carefully phrased, each syllable oddly pronounced.
Then she glanced back at the railroad tracks, still thinking them a rather strange mode of transportation. She was familiar with wheeled transport, as it existed on her home planet, but confining such transport to tracks? The concept seemed peculiar indeed.
Hotel Dining Hall (Zuri)
By the time Zuri entered the dining hall, she had established that this strange place she was in was some sort of alternate reality, most likely one of those dream worlds she and her group had been discussing. However, she remained oddly calm about it. While she did bear a look of mild confusion and caution as she looked around the place, she didn't make any odd movements or signs of panic. She just kind of drifted in the place, as if she were still the ghost she had projected just before.
And so, she decided to play along for the time being, with a little nod to herself as she approached the foursome. One of them, the armoured three-eyed foxperson, looked in her direction. "You, uh... looking for something, zer?"
"Oh, it's Zur-ee", Zuri replied, misinterpreting the creature'snote last word. "How did you know my name? Anyway, I just uh, want to apologise if I sounded rude back there. This may sound strange but... I just arrived here, unintentionally it seems, from another world entirely. From uh, the planet Earth? In the year 2015?"
Her voice had the usual distant and ethereal tone to it, but with a marked hint of uncertainty.
edited 7th Jan '16 10:24:13 PM by ladytanuki
Come, my child of the devil. Your mother is calling you. Hear my call in Hell's grand hall, where all our dreams come true.
[Mountain Pass - Campsite]
Blair had hit upon a point of contention in Yoth society, and Suela took a moment to weigh her options before answering. Here, at least, she could give a heretical opinion safely. But first, the widely agreed upon views of intellectual Yoth society. She first took a moment to clear her mind of any "clever quips" that would, in fact, be mere childish insults. Blair was actually starting to annoy her, but one thing she'd learned was to try and push aside such feelings; some of the best philosophers, especially those of the Zavi School, were incredibly annoying bastards. When she felt confident she was level-headed, she said, "there is nothing imaginary about the power of law; it is quite proven. At least in the history I have read of and witnessed, societies built upon law triumph over those that are not, in both war and peace." She hesitated for a fraction of a second here; she'd had some troubles when she made a similar statement to a Zavi School philosopher, but doubted Blair would spot and pull the same thread, and was ready if he did. So she continued, "it is the societies that reject law as 'illusions and wishes', even if they in some sense are, that find themselves..." she was about to say "conquered", but decided to leave martial braggadocio to the Southern Tribes. So instead, she went with the more interesting option. "One of our previous Emperors established a fascinating policy of economic domination whereby tribes could be dragged into the empire without a drop of blood spilled, simply by instilling a dependence on goods they could not themselves produce."
She briefly considered going on a tangent, but decided instead to return to Blair's other point. The more troublesome one. "As for what is right and wrong? Well, conventional wisdom holds the Emperor decides. Even if he's an insane lunatic, because civil war and lawlessness are far worse. But..." another pause, this one instinctive, given that she normally wouldn't feel safe trusting strangers with an opinion this unconventional and dangerous in her society. Her voice betrayed some nervousness as she said, "I'm not sure I agree, even if I do agree lawlessness is a terrible existence. So," she sighed, "I'll offer you my own answer instead. Except, not really. I don't yet have an answer to that question, 'who decides what is good or bad?'" Her lips curled into a wry, thoughtful smile. "As a philosopher, I intend to spend my lifetime pursuing that answer, and even if I never find one I am satisfied with, I will consider it a life well spent."
edited 8th Jan '16 4:45:11 PM by KillerClowns
[Town ~ Grand Hotel (Dining Hall)] (Joseph, James, John, Pancake)
Joseph's long lizard mouth pulled into a rather limp smile. It lasted only a moment.
"Yep, that's right." he said, before adding a sarcastic—and slightly more bitter than he had intended—"Want my autograph?"
He forked a few more leaves of lettuce into his mouth and finished off what little remained of his chicken. He paused to glance at John and say, "Well, if it means anything, you guys haven't thrown me off yet. But then, this isn't the first, uh... time I've been to that's far from my own. I guess I like to think that it takes a lot to throw me off these days."
Joseph began scraping the rest of his food into one unholy mass of questionable edibility, while shooting occasional concerned glances at James, who still seemed to be struggling with the deeper implications behind Joseph's words. "Yeah, almost." he said, before sticking his fork into his food-glob and guiding it to his mouth. If the mixture did anything to the flavor, he didn't seem to mind.
the color today
[Hotel-Dining Hall]
Hearing the bitterness in Joseph's tone, John sunk back in his seat and looked away. "...I'm sorry. I-It was stupid acting like that, wasn't it?"
James also heard the bitterness in his tone, and he quickly shot Joseph a glare—perhaps the first glare he's ever done since he got here—and spoke in a very, very low voice, "Listen son, we are willing to have you stay under our wing as long as you want, but you will not speak to John or me like that ever again. Understand?"
John lifted his hands defensively, "Honey, it's fine. Twenty five years ago or not, he's still a kid."
"John-"
"It's fine. Honestly. Don't scare him off like this." He cleared his throat, "So...from what I can understand, you've done this before? End up in another time? Is that how you ended up in the desert before I met you?"
James just sighed, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling, having nothing else to say. Now he really wanted to go back upstairs.
edited 8th Jan '16 8:18:26 PM by Masterofchaos
[Town ~ Grand Hotel (Dining Hall)] (Joseph, James, John, Pancake)
Joseph paused his food stabbing. His glances of concern turned to confusion, and finally, irritation.
"Whatever- I was just kidding." he said shaking his head slowly, though his voice still contained that inescapable bitterness. He lowered his eyes to his plate and resumed his poking, though none of the food on his fork ever entered his mouth. "I mean, I didn't mean it like that." he muttered, "Jesus..."
When he turned his eyes back to John, his expression softened into simple glumness. He looked back down at his food and murmured, "Yeah, I suppose so. The place I was at before waking up here was..." his words trailed off, and for a few seconds, it seemed as though he wasn't going to finish. However, a moment later, he shrugged and continued with, "well, it... wasn't like this. It was..." he paused, hesitating, "it was a lot..."
His mouth hung very slightly open, moving silently as he tried to find the words or the will to speak them. He found one, but not the other. He lowered his eyes, lowering his head at the same time. He closed his mouth and said nothing more.
[Town ~ Railway Street (East)] (Davey)
Something was off.
Davey slowed his already slow walk to a halt, took his hand off the wall of the building he was using as a guide, and tried to figure out what it was. A sensation? A missing sensation? He patted his legs, his chest, and his head—covered still by a thick, fluff-brimmed hood—hoping to sense something, some cause to this sudden subtle disturbance; some cause to sense that would cause everything make sense. Though he could not yet put his fingers on it, the disturbance only grew all the more prevalent with time.
Suddenly, things became eerily quiet, the heat of the air began to diminish, and Davey could no longer feel the wind pressing so fiercely against his back. He could no longer feel the wind pressing so fiercely against his back. He could no longer—
The storm!
With little further thought, Davey raised his head and pulled his heavy hood off, just in time to see a receding, seemingly boundless wall of dust pressing on into the distance. The ass-end of the sandstorm. While the wind still whipped in places, it was much less fearsome or thick with dust than the tempest that had come before.
He couldn't help but smile at the rare opportunity he had before him. The chance to see off the great storm that had held the entire town in it's grips for hours. A chance he would have missed entirely if he'd chosen to stay back at Margaret's bed and breakfast, or the Grand Hotel, or indeed, if he'd made it to and into the Washington before that point. He had sailed through the storm in spite of what felt like countless warnings, and he'd survived no worse for wear, sans a bit of a dry nose plus some granules of displaced sand that had managed to creep through his hood and land themselves in the fur of his head. A small, childish part of him wished that his naysayers could be standing there next to him, if only so that he could point with a proven strength at them and utter a resolute "Ha!"
Happy as a flea in a doghouse—or, even better, as a flea in his own jacket—Davey glanced around the street, quickly reorienting himself, and, spying the Washington only a few buildings away, marched onward to his destination.
the color today
[Railway Street]
Directly in front of the town's train station, something very strange happened. The air began to tear apart at the seams, creating a large, conspicuous hole in what appeared to be the very fabric of reality. A portal, out of which stepped two individuals, the latter of which quickly sealed the hole behind her with a wave of her hands. The young woman who sealed the hole was short and lean, with shoulder length brown hair and a bright blue one-piece jumpsuit that only stood out more as she stood in the middle of a western desert town. The man accompanying her immediately took to wandering about, carrying a large metal rod in his right hand. His hair was long and black with a hint of aged grey despite the man's young age, and he had allowed his beard to grow until the tip had reached the bottom of his chest. His weary eyes told the tale of a man who had been in seclusion for a very, very long time. He even took time adjusting to the light of the sun as he arrived, but was keen to observe his new surroundings. As the portal was closed, he turned around to notice the station, letting out a scoff in the process.
"Well Annie, what do you know? No need to tear holes in the very fabric of the multi-verse, all we had to do was take the train!"
Annie gave a confused glance at her companion.
"Gregory, trains aren't able to traverse realities. I would have thought a scientist such as yourself would know that much-"
"-Annie. Sarcasm."
Annie gave a blank stare, then nodded her head.
"Right. Sarcasm..." she muttered.
"Seriously, you really need to get a grasp of that. The last week has been killing me. It's bad enough you don't get any pop culture references. It's the only conversational piece I've got!" Gregory leaned his metal rod against his shoulder and eagerly rubbed his hands together. "So, where do we get started on the search for your sister? I gotta say, I didn't take Ol'Lizzie for the rootin' tootin' cowboy type."
"Adopted sister, Gregory. And she's here, or she has been here, or she will be here some time in the near future. I'm not that precise. Either way, we just need to stay here and look around for a while." Annie spat out some sand that blew into her open mouth. "Ugh, this place is terrible."
"Hey, it's not that bad!" Gregory replied. "Look, there's probably a saloon around her full of dubious characters and ne'er-do-wells. A wretched hive of scum and villainy. And it's been a while since I last got to beat up a bunch of criminals..."
"No!" Annie raised a pointed finger towards Gregory, as if she was scolding a dog. "No crime fighting. We can't go around here causing a stir until we at least know exactly where we are. Don't draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves. Now, I know you want to go out and be like Clint Wayne... or John Eastwood... or whoever it is you said your Wild West hero was."
"I'll have you know it was Marty Mc Fly."
"Look, just try not to cause a scene. We probably stick out like sore thumbs already. We didn't exactly make the quietest of entrances. Let's just have a look around, see what we can find for now."
"Right behind you, boss."
edited 9th Jan '16 8:46:31 AM by LordGreyjoy
[Hotel-Dining Hall]
Joseph's tone was increasingly making James even more angry, especially since he refused to apologize for it, but for John's sake, he still decided not to say anything.
"You don't have to go on." John said softly, "If it's too much, you can stop talking about it. Just finish up your dinner, but don't rush."
James got up. "I'll meet you two upstairs. I'm going to bed."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Goodnight, dear."
"...Alright. Goodnight."
After giving each other a quick kiss, James went to the elevator. Once he was gone, John looked back at Joseph with concern.
"I'm really sorry." he said, "I hope you don't think any less of him because of that. He really is a nice man! He just couldn't tell that you were joking." he frowned heavily, "Please don't tell me that's going to ruin all the bonding you did."
Pancake was fast asleep by this point.
Attitude is prohibited
[Grand Hotel] (Dining Hall)
Hana raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly. "As I said," She replied. "I find it somewhat misleading, or at least, somewhat inaccurate..."
Her train of thought was interrupted by Zuri's reappearance. "Planet 'Earth,' hm? Interesting." She chuckled, quietly. "We're from the same planet, technically speaking." She said. "Though, from my perspective, no-one has called it 'Earth' in well over a century."
[Mountain Pass]
Miyuki fled like the others, silently soaring high into the air and following Brin from above, essentially invisible to the naked eye against the dark sky.
[Mountain Pass Campsite]
Hoshi was thoroughly baffled by Roscoe's description of her world. Calling it 'a lot to wrap your head around' seemed like a bit of an understatement. It took her a second to realize she'd been asked a question about her own world.
"Huh?" She said. "Oh, right. Well, we don't have any gods or devils or ghosts or whatever where I'm from. Not any real ones, anyway. Probably." She'd heard a few ghost stories before, and some of them had managed to stick with her. "Anyway," She continued. "Yeah, Five is kinda my codename, I guess. I got it because I was born fifth, out of fifteen of us." She said.
"And yeah, wings! Not, like, literal wings, but I can fly!" She said, grinning. She turned her back to Roscoe and indicated the rectangular metal plates embedded in her back. There were plates just like them in the backs of her upper arms and the backs of her calves. "It's a little complicated," She said, turning back around to face Roscoe. "But those are my wings! Neat, huh?"
The Fort (Stockade >>> Elsewhere/Canteen)
With all the fort's soldiers either dead, being treated, sleeping or keeping up security, nobody was having any late-night snacks in the cafeteria. It was empty, and far from their prisoner's earshot, meaning it suited their purposes well, for the time being.
"Alright, so, let's review..." Rin said, as everyone gathered in the room with her. She put a hand to her chin and thought aloud. "Assuming our friend in the cell isn't lying, his whole crew - or was it just the vast majority? - was wiped out in their attack on this place, including their leader. Reinforcements, therefore, are highly unlikely. And even if more were on the way, it's not like they're after us, specifically..." She paused, briefly. "Of course, there's still the chance that David is lying. But if he is, we don't have much of anything else to draw conclusions from."
She looked up at the others. "What do you think?"
Not entirely dead.
[hotel room 106 (Tsadro, Arthur)]
Medicine wasn't his strong suit, but he'll try.
<You ask because you're curious about your condition, yes? It's a bit of both- if a surgical, therapeutic, or pharmaceutical solution is to be improved upon, biomechanics and cybernetics are often the first to do so. The next logical step is growing organs and tissues in laboratories- the science is very mature for its age, but the only thing it hasn't perfected is healing an already-living brain. This is where implants, medication, and general therapy try to compensate.>
Tsadro glanced away in thought. The 'already-living' part was important. Would Arthur's mind be blown if he learned that growing a new body was possible? Probably.
Oh... that's right, that would be a problem.
<I can't tell why you cannot speak- you've not made a sound tonight. If something catches you when my back is turned and you can't scream or grab me, we'll need to work out an alternative. But... let's say you had the opportunity to take advantage of Mialian healthcare. They may still suggest an implant even if your condition is potentially fixable without one, thinking that you can use the implant while they look for a biological solution. If they do find one, you can keep the implant, and forever have a sound-independent mode of communication and hands-free operation of personal technology.>
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."
Friendly Neighborhood Lich
Train Station - Outside
As the large-eared grey-haired young witch looked around some more, she spotted a huge dust cloud in the distance, though thankfully it seemed to be receding. She had heard of such dust storms in a desert area on her home planet, but that desert was lit by daylight, and this one was not. In fact, she felt more at home here, with an absence of daylight and the soft glow of the moonlight providing illumination.
And then she looked around at the stars, and was even more dazzled. Many more stars were visible here than on her home planet, since the latter had a much thicker atmosphere. Of course, she had attended a short lecture about Earthnote before departure, but hadn't been fully paying attention. The bit about the stars was one thing she heard, but she couldn't imagine it being so beautiful.
In fact, just then she had another idea, reaching beneath her capelet and into a hidden satchel beneath it. There was a clinking of glass bottles, until finally she retrieved one little glass vial containing what looked sort of like a mushroom, except the cap was spherical and the whole thing was a light bluish colour. A carefully sliced chunk was missing from the cap. Holding the vial up in the moonlight, she spoke to it.
"Turian-wishta", she spoke. "Mushroom of..."
Her ears twitched mid-word, and she suddenly stood alert. She sensed a strange disturbance in the air around her, the kind she would feel if someone was using a powerful magic spell nearby. When she turned around, she was surprised - a rift appeared in the very air before her, a strange space, as if from some other dimension, contained within it.
Two people emerged from this rift: a woman just a bit taller than herself, and a man who looked a little older. The former was wearing some strange sort of bodysuit she had never seen before, and she was also now sealing the rift—apparently a portal—behind them. A conversation broke out between the two, and as it did, the short witch lady approached them to listen in, the mushroom-containing bottle still in her hand. They said something about a sister, and of checking out the town.
"A portal you created," she wondered. "So you two use magic as well, I presuming?" While she spoke, her narrow flesh-pink eyes peeked out from under the wide brim of her hat, and a thin smile appeared on that flat, pale face of hers. "I am a magician as well, though of a different specialty." She gave a small shake of the vial. "My name is Nemaforte."note
edited 9th Jan '16 7:31:51 PM by ladytanuki
Come, my child of the devil. Your mother is calling you. Hear my call in Hell's grand hall, where all our dreams come true.
Mr ship
[Fort-outside]
Henry stepped outside with his homing beacon and his tape recorder out ready to use.
"Henry A. Safon the Second logs home date May 30th, 1977 local date still unknown. I've been here for almost half a day and in that time I've come across other interdimensional travelers both friendly and hostile. Along with that I've found what appears to be Fort San Houston from my time as a rough rider. I currently have how idea what it's doing here or how a group of redneck terrorists found out about it. Whatever the reason may be all that's important right now is that I return home and get Augustus and Bill. I have a feeling that something big is going on here and I don't think I can do this alone. Henry out."
Henry his the stop button on the recorder before putting it back in his messenger bag. He then turned his attention to his homing beacon.
"Let's hope this works." He said to himself as he hit the button that was supposed to return him home.
The beacon started to make a humming noise before Henry was suddenly surrounded by a blinding flash.
When the flash disappeared Henry was no longer there, instead he was being taken to his home to bring back up.
[Town ~ Grand Hotel (Dining Hall)] (Joseph, James, John, Pancake)
"'Night." Joseph murmured, still staring down and poking at his tray, scooting his food in circles.
He didn't answer John, which, in a way, satisfied the man's request. He only continued running laps with his food, before sticking some on his fork properly and actually eating it. The chewing and swallowing that followed seemed to take ages, and Joseph's eyes remained lowered the entire time, fixed on his tray. He didn't blink. He didn't look up. He stared hard, practically burning a hole through the table.
Once his speaking facilities were no longer occupied, he stopped poking at his food and spoke in an unusually quiet voice.
"John?" he said, posing the man's name as a question, though he didn't wait for an answer. "Tonight... there's a very good chance..." Or perhaps a very bad chance he thought bitterly, "there's... there's a strong possibility that tonight is the last time you'll ever see me."
He paused again, raising his head just enough to meet John's gaze. "Like I said... the time travel: I... can't control it. I don't know how it works."
the color today
It's three in the morning and I am so tired but will I rest? No. I am stubborn and I will get this post done.
[Hotel-Dining Hall]
John frown remained there as Joseph spoke.
"You think you'll leave?" he repeated, "That's how random it is?"
He looked down, staring at his sleeping cat. He didn't know what else he could say that could be comforting. He wished he could help, but he had no idea how the time travel worked. And he had no idea when it was going to happen.
Still, him leaving just when he felt like they were going to bond over the vacation hurt. It hurt a lot. And the last thing that happened was James getting mad at him over a misunderstanding. It wasn't what he wanted.
"I...I'm sorry." he said after being silent for a while, "I wish I could say more instead of apologizing constantly. I was hoping that..." he shook his head, "No. It was a stupid thought. Thank you for the...head's up, I guess."
He fell silent again, his whole night now gloomy.
[Railway Street]
Annie and Gregory were startled to hear a voice from behind them, not noticing anyone in the area when they had arrived. So much for keeping a low profile. Gregory turned to face the direction of the voice, gave the young woman before him a quick look, and let out a sigh. I'm in the Wild West and I just got approached by a witch. Annie, where did you drag me this time?
"Magic, you say?" Annie began to circle and carefully examine the young witch. "That's very interesting. Very interesting indeed... of course, what I do isn't magic. It's basically an advanced form of science."
"I think an 'advanced' form of science would involve us getting around without ripping holes in the space-time continuuum," Gregory replied. "Besides, it's a pretty bad idea to share this stuff with the first person we see, even if they claim they can use magic. For all we know, this little lady could just be the town eccentric... and besides, witches aren't traditionally good people. She could be working with... you-know-who."
Annie scratched her head in confusion. "Who?"
"Elizabeth."
"Oh," Annie replied, "don't worry, I'll ask her." Annie re-approached the young witch. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to be in cahoots with a woman... blonde hair, about my age, with a face that gives the impression that's she's judging you for every decision you've ever made in your life?"
Gregory shook his head. Annie was always the naive type, and he doubted simply asking would elicit an honest answer from the witch.
[Grand Hotel (Dining Hall)]
Scents stared at the young woman for a moment, her face blank. Zer Eee? It was an odd name for a human, but as they said, the Alliance did thrive on diversity. Problem was, she wasn't sure if it was a name or not.
She held up one armored finger in an interjection. "Pardon me..." she searched for the right word, "miss, but zer is a term of respect. Are you saying your name is Eee, or Zuri'?" (Technically, Scents would actually have thought of the second name more like Zeree).
Then the rest of what the young woman had said hit her. It wasn't unexpected, but it was still a little surprising.
Iraal blinked her large eyes. She felt that she had missed something in what Hana was saying, but the sudden arrival of the newcomer and the corresponding shift in conversation distracted her anyway. Earth history fell outside her particular field of expertise, and might not be relevant in a place such as this anyway, but she had to say something. "I have never been to Earth," she said, "but in my time period, which I believe to be a few centuries ahead of yours, it is still called that." She flicked open her backup to look up the current human year in their dominant calendar, but was distracted by a flashing indicator from her social interaction software. The image drew her attention to the waiter standing nearby, an apparently human woman with short purple hair. She gave a wave that the software flagged as likely sarcastic.
"I wasn't going to point out her til you did, doc," Scents said, glancing over.
Sorry this took a while. People can automate the process of ordering a meal if they want, since I'd rather this dinner not take up too much time.
edited 10th Jan '16 8:31:52 PM by nrjxll
Mountain Pass - Campsite
It was not difficult for Blair to recall that before his intrusion, Cyrus and Suela had been talking, so it surprised him somewhat that instead of joining in the debate, Cyrus simply set about the task of crafting arrows silently. Interesting. He did not give much thought to it, however. Whatever Cyrus did was his prerogative; Blair seldom presumed to question anyone’s motives when it did not seem relevant.
As Suela provided a rebuttal regarding the power of law, Blair raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He was not entirely convinced that her point of view was not rehearsed, the sort of thing one told oneself because it was the thing to believe. While he did enjoy a good debate, or even argument, he had learned the hard way that there was a difference when one was up against a person’s security blanket - that is, the beliefs they clung to because they felt safe. In such cases people became defensive, testy, even offended. And there was nothing fun about that.
So, following that statement, he only said, very quietly, “When the power of law, and the force of the belief that goes into it, is what causes the division between war and peace, it no longer serves as a reliable grade between what is the success or the failure of a society.” Blair was only a philosopher by dint of his long life and the pain and bitterness that had defined it, but he actually had been a lawmaker once, for many centuries. He had retired after seeing not one, but two massive wars nearly tear his world apart. Or he had tried to retire, at least.
When Suela spoke the words “the Emperor decides” what was good or bad, Blair’s lips formed a very visible smirk, a silent laugh, but that vanished as she explained her own stance. If she intended to answer that question for herself, that was certainly an endeavor Blair respected. “My opinion is that I would much rather hear someone say ‘I would like to learn for myself’ than ‘Person X determines what is good or bad.’ That is a worthy pursuit, as a philosopher.”
Meanwhile, Roscoe was having her own, decidedly less dramatic conversation with Hoshi, or Five. She kind of liked the idea of a birth order. It depended on what it was for. The wings were another thing; that was just really cool. They were an interesting alternative to your ordinary, fluffy-feathered wings. “That is neat! How do they work?” Roscoe asked, before happening to glance at the others and notice that Cyrus was making arrows.
“Oh! Blair probably expects me to help with that. Making arrows. Do you know how to make arrows?” She headed over to the others, with Hoshi hopefully in tow, and settled between Cyrus and Blair. She beamed up at Blair, then took out her own switchblade and started sharpening one end of a stick. Blair reached down and wrapped his hands around hers.
“No, no, start by straightening the arrow. That comes first. See how Cyrus is making that one. Aerodynamics count as much as a sharp point.” The guidance was given in the tone of an instructor - except for the strong hint of tenderness in Blair’s tone and the way he briefly held her hands. All that was left for the bow was the tillering, so Blair picked up a stick and started fashioning it into an arrow as well, with fair efficiency. Roscoe glanced from him to Cyrus before taking up work again on her own.
“Oh, nice knife,” Roscoe said to Cyrus; it was an offhand comment related to the shape of the knife and its bone handle, as she had not seen the patterns on it at all. “So, what were you guys talking about? Or do I want to know? Blair has that ‘intense discussion’ look on his face.” She gave a slight, playful grimace.
Drummer Boy
[Mountain Pass Campsite]
"Uh, thanks! It wasn't the first time I made a knife, but it was the first good knife I made, heh." Cyrus was kind of happy about having someone he might be able to talk to about less heavy stuff, but talking while working was kind of a bad idea for him, if his workshop accidents were anything to go by.
Eh, he could just try slowing down. Besides, arrow-making was relatively simple compared to what he usually worked on these days. "Are you also thousands of years old, Roscoe? And uh, what's your relationship to him again?" With the stick sufficiently trimmed, he began the process of hand-straightening the shaft. After this, he would start on another stick. He'd found that doing them all in batches like this was the best way to ensure uniformity. "I hope we've scavenged enough good feathers. I might have brought a suitable adhesive..." he muttered to himself.
[Hotel Room 106]
<that's a strategy that makes sense, i guess. there's a lot of debate where i come from over whether or not biological solutions are even going to be worth the trouble after technology hits a certain point. a lot of people want to be able to upload their brains into robots someday. anyway, this thing came with some extra buttons and I made one of them a panic button, i've had to use it a few times already i can program another button to send a silent alert to your implants too>
Arthur pressed one of the tablet's side buttons. The tablet emitted the eternally classic Wilhelm scream. He slowly closed his eyes.
<it was supposed to be a loud beep but nymue keeps changing it to that stupid scream. but you get the idea>
edited 11th Jan '16 1:42:42 AM by SnowyFoxes
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!
Crazy Kiwi
Northwestern Desert - Fort (Canteen)
"Alright, so, let's review..." Rin put a hand to her chin and thought aloud. "Assuming our friend in the cell isn't lying, his whole crew - or was it just the vast majority? - was wiped out in their attack on this place, including their leader. Reinforcements, therefore, are highly unlikely. And even if more were on the way, it's not like they're after us, specifically..." She paused, briefly. "Of course, there's still the chance that David is lying. But if he is, we don't have much of anything else to draw conclusions from.""What do you think?"
Sophia pursed her lips thoughtfully for a brief moment. "That about sums it up. For what it's worth, I think he was probably too terrified of us to formulate a coherent lie. I'm sure that if he were lying, he'd have slipped up somewhere along the way, said the wrong thing in blind panic, so I think what he said was true - but even if he was lying, it won't do his reinforcements any good. They've lost the element of surprise: the whole fort is on alert, now."
"And better armed, as well," said Gwion. "While we were tidying up, I gave one of the Sergeants a quick lesson in how to use the rifles and he passed that knowledge on to his squad. The men guarding the fort are now armed with modern selective fire bullpups instead of old bolties." He positioned a couple of chairs so that he could sit on one and stick his feet on the other. Thus settled, he leaned back and lit a cigarette.
Kaitlyn nodded. "If any reinforcements turn up, they won't have an easy job of it and they'd be fucking idiots to turn up here without getting an 'all clear' - they'd have to know that something went south if they didn't hear back." She found herself a chair, made herself as comfortable as possible, given it was unpadded wood, and dug her cigarettes and lighter out of her pocket.
Finn swung a chair around and straddled it so that he could rest his folded arms on the back. "I don't think anyone else'll be comin'," he said in his rich brogue. "If they had a big enough force to leave reinforcements behind, they'd've attacked with a larger number just to be sure of succeeding. I counted thirty, including face-ache in there, which is a helluva small force to take a fort this big - even if it does only have a skeleton crew and you have the element of surprise and modern weapons."
He lit a cigarette and continued, talking around the cloud of smoke he exhaled. "Sending out a small ineffectual group of mooks and keeping a better, stronger force in reserve for when they inevitably fail is the sort of shit that only happens in movies - any decent leader sends out his best at the outset and gets the fucking job done properly."
Sophia drew up a chair of her own and lit a cigarette. "Good points. They'd have to be insane or very desperate to try to take a large fort with only thirty fighters."
[Town ~ Grand Hotel (Dining Hall)] (Joseph, John, Pancake)
"It seems to happen overnight a lot of the time." Joseph said with a nod. "At least, it's not often that I stay in one place for more than a day. Sometimes that's a good thing, but mostly..."
He sighed, pushing his tray to the side to give himself a place to lay his arms and big lizard head. "Anyway, it's okay." he murmured, "I mean, I am grateful I ran into you. I could be starving in the desert right now, cooking away and... bleeding all over the place. You two probably saved my life, and even if it's become the plaything of some unknown force, I'm not willing to let go of it. Not yet. Not for a long time."
Joseph's gaze grew distant and hazy. His mouth was closed. He was silent.
the color today
Laugh and grow dank!
[Mountain Pass]
The rest of the soldiers piled into the back of the MRAP for some rest. Their squad leader lay on the hood of the car, back propped against the windshield, arms folded. He had his head canted back, staring up at the sky, as if he were trying to count the stars.
"Boss!" Jun called from inside, head poking out the backseat window. "Saw a small rockslide up the hill, something might be moving up there. I saw a big kinda wolf-lookin' thing too, I think."
The squad leader laughed and gave a perfunctory nod. "I'll take the fifty, you have permission to recon. Maybe you'll actually find something this time."
With quite a bit more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, Jun fumbled out of the back of the car, grinning, a short-barrel scout rifle tucked under-arm. The soldier on the hood rolled off and took his place in the back with the CROWS, and Jun set off at a quick jog up the mountain, stopping only long enough to affix a night-vision optic across the face.
As Jun moved up the incline, the turret swept the area anew, covering the soldier's movement.
yey
[Hotel-Dining Hall]
John smiled.
"You know...you also helped me too, Joe." he said, "If I hadn't found you in the desert, I wouldn't have found my car and James again. And it was really nice to have you as a son, even if it was only for a little while."
He gently set Pancake on the table, walked over to Joesph, and pulled him into a gentle hug.
"It'll be ok. Just let me know when you're ready to head to bed, ok friend? At the very least, you should get a good night's rest before what happens...happens."
He still felt a little sad that his friend might leave tomorrow, but still tried his best to make sure that if he when he left, it was on a good note. He hated having people leave in such a sour mood.
Pancake only yawned, breifly lifted her head, then went back to sleep.
Drummer Boy
[Mountain Pass]
... welp, they'd done it now. Kito could definitely smell and hear someone coming closer.
He decided to keep up the "innocent unsuspecting wildlife" act. Once he reached the top of the slope, he turned to give the soldier a wary look, keeping his body language as non-confrontational as possible. But he was far from looking relaxed. The moment he noticed the soldier raising his weapon or doing anything suspicious, he would call on magic.
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!
[hotel room 106 (Tsadro, Arthur)]
As the tablet screamed into his implants, he sat up more in his chair, studying Arthur with concern. So... the boy was voiceless? Why was he allowed in the military, especially since he needed two hands free and an easily breakable device to communicate? Tsadro blinked. <I hope nothing binds your arms first.>
He found it odd at first that there was a preference for biotech over direct biomedicine, but he had to keep in mind that Arthur likely lived on Gaea, where there's no aither-wielding. Cybernetic body parts were cheaper because they could be mass-produced and calibrated to the user at installation-time, albeit at the cost of aither-wielding in that part. Not a problem by any means for a Mialian, but the rest of Aitherion? By the time the technology allows for dynamism, and not just activation of sorcery, lab-grown limbs were going to be a staple of world medicine.
Now that there was finally a lull, he settled again, resting an elbow on the armrest, and posed his own question. <I enjoy speaking of my people, the questions and answers are fascinating. But you're the first one I've spoken to with no exposure to Rivari. You've never seen one or heard of us; you've no stories, superstitions, or cultural preconceptions. So feel free to keep asking. But first, I have some questions for you.>
It was kind of pathetic, he had been waiting all night to spring this topic. The event that got him considering his nature in the first place.
<What is your definition of free will? Who do you feel possesses it? Humans, Rivari, both, neither? Don't think too hard about it- I don't ask for a particular answer, only honesty.>
Whoo 1000th post
edited 11th Jan '16 8:19:35 PM by CrystalGlacia
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."
Katya
Every step was reminding her in new ways why she hated the desert. Her boots scuffed against the ground with an irritating scraping sound instead of the rustle of grass and soil she was used to. Arid dust and dirt filled her nose making her want to sneeze. It was windy too, while it didn't bite like the cold it did send the duster flapping and blew her hair into ragged snarls.
As she walked she surveyed the town, outwards it looked like a typical frontier town from the 19th century. A few hints peeked through the facade though, a metal drum perfectly shaped, some building materials just a little too precise, clues it wasn't any normal town. Granted with Capital being her new home she should have adjusted her definition of "normal" a fair while ago, but she was nothing if not stubborn.
The hotel finally towered above her, grateful for a respite from the wind she started running her fingers through her hair, wincing each time she hit a knot. After a few runs and when feeling close to human again she walked up to the welcome desk and rang the small silver bell.
Stoned hippie without the stoned. Or the hippie. My AO3 Page, grab a chair and relax.