someone
Caster, The Lancelot To Elsewhere
Caster tilts her head. "How odd. An intelligent room? I have never heard of that," she says, as the barge begins to move, through magic not her own. She almost trips, before recovering herself. "Thank you, Master mine," she responds as she leaves. "I will do as you have advised," she replies as she becomes spirit.
Elaine walks into the world, following the signs, and feeling pangs of loneliness at the lack of people. After so long in the Tower, she had long wished to see a human face. Instead, she was facing these humonculi, these golems, these simulacrums, or whatever they were called. She studied them, her mirror reflecting every facet of their odd faces. She stopped, and looked at him. It. They.
"Fifty credits per stop?" Caster inquires. "I wish to go to Djerba Rediscovered. How much will that cost?"
[TOP SECRET]
sword of promised halp
Zorana Dojinovac; New Arcady - Near the Elizabeth Redux
It's a good thing that transhumanist irony is so prevalent here, because otherwise you're not sure anyone would actually buy your disguise. As things are, the artists, bohemians, and leisurely saunterers of the First have already given you five separate compliments on your wicked fashion sense.
"My, how deliciously transgressive," simpers a large woman crammed into a mutilated replica of a Nutritia can. "Draping that ratty protest of a rag over your face… I wish I'd thought of that!"
You ask her if she's seen a churchman and a schoolgirl in smartglasses, describing them as best you can from Victor's sending.
"Why, of course I have!" she sighs, wobbling and clinking in an indeterminate direction. "They went that way, towards that fuddy-duddy clock-tower… you know, the one in the news, with the murder. That one. Do you like my can, by the way? I'm protesting the cultural homogeneity of our mass-produced rations. Just because the food is free doesn't mean we are!"
The tower really is right there, in the square just down the street, twisting like an oak tree and everything. An oak tree with columns and windows and balconies and a big old clock on top. You can see police-drones holding up sparking yellow boundary-fields in a rectangle at its base. Probably best not to get too near them.
But then you see something else: a tall man with a gray-brown ponytail, and a girl with glasses. They're standing right in front of the police field, craning to catch some drone attention.
Now you have to get near them.
Joy.
Emilie Eberhardt; New Arcady - Beneath the Elizabeth Redux
He was watching you for about half an hour, because he didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep. Or at least, that's what John tells you. He's a good talker, guileless, with a melodious tenor voice as smooth as his hair. He asks you about your home, your parents, school, and nods in all the right places no matter what you try to do - until you're so caught up that you almost forget that you're walking right into a crime scene.
Well, if the sparking yellow field didn't tip you off, nothing would. The nearest drone rotates, sliding along its field-projectors like a pod on rails.
"Civilians are not permitted past this point," it shrills.
"Alas," smiles John as he steps in front of you, "but I am a man of the Church. Where is the detective assigned to this case?"
"That'll be me. What do you want, churchman?"
John raises his hand in blessing, curling his fourth and fifth fingers in the sign of the Spiral.
"Counter-Force enfold us all, and overcome our woes," he says. "I am John Agnagnos, Acolyte of Alaya, and I come by command of the Patriarch himself. The crime is not as it seems. This girl is integral."
The detective folds his arms and looks unimpressed. He's shorter than you are, which is a surprise - but his neck is lean and sinewy, and his stubbled cheeks are scarred. He looks like a lean tomcat stuffed into a trenchcoat.
"I don't suppose you've got some tracts to hand me, Miss. What is it you do, and how'd this altar-boy get his paws on you?"
Lyudmila Petrenko; Djerba Rediscovered - The Second Floor of the Golden Days History Hub
Not being spoiled at all, you find yourself in front of the neighbors' door within fifteen minutes, the tray already washed and cleaned (by Chung). There being no stairlift in the next building, he insists on carrying you up the stairs, seating you on the bench outside, bringing your wheelchair up after you, then seating you back on your chair. A sign hangs from the doorframe, pinned by a rusty nail - it looks as if it said something a long time ago, but now all you can make out is a sprig of faded green leaves.
"They've switched to a smartsign," explains Chung, placing his holowatch over your shoulder so you can see. "Doesn't actually exist in the real world, not anymore. And here I was, believing that people might confine their virtual lives to pods and simulsleep… but no matter."
Through the projected holoscreen you see, in bright dancing lemon-colored letters:
And then, in purple, almost as an afterthought:
Chung hesitates for a moment, staring down at you, then up at the door - then he knocks politely. The door gives a lazy creak, and a bleary-eyed man with a large blonde afro stares out at you, dressed in an oversized green t-shirt with a cloud on it.
"We're closed," he drawls. "Nice chair."
"That's not what your Shelterlink page says," Chung smiles, tapping his watch. "My friend here has a great desire to experience your most luxurious services."
The afro looks Chung over.
"Alright," he says, "but if you come in, too, it'll be double. Nate's secrets aren't cheap."
Chung pauses again. He knows just how much you hate being babied, but at the same time, it seems he's not about to leave you alone with a stranger.
"The money is no object. What matters is the decision of my friend here. Do you wish me to come, young Miss?"
"Force," says the afro in slow disbelief, "just use her name, why don't you? What is it, anyway, little lady?"
"That's not…"
Silence. The two men turn their gazes on you, waiting.
Caster; Demophon Raised - Sixth Monorail Station
"Why," chirps the ticket-dispenser, clearly overjoyed at finally having a customer, "that'll be two hundred and fifty credits!"
It pauses, then, at your inaction, supplies hopefully:
"You can pay in cash, coins, or direct credit transfer."
Konrad Monday; True Elysium - Viviani Residence
An urgent whisper comes in on your earpiece - Captain Stoles, naturally. He seems pretty miffed.
"Dammit, Monday, quit screwing around - get to the girl and ask her about her great-grandfather, record her response and leave! We've got a terrorist to wring, and until you get back, I'll have to do it, so haul your sorry ass back here!"
You're not sure if Alexander can hear your incensed superior, but you have a feeling that you'd best get on with it.
Marlene Fournier; True Elysium - Shelter Police Department
It feels almost insane, being here in True Elysium, the city's beating heart - but here you are, seated in a white simulchamber, your hands cuffed at the wrists and your Magecraft turned off. You felt it the moment they prodded you off the van - no casting, not in here. Nanotech is somehow creepier when it's throttling your Circuits.
They did use a van, and there weren't any windows, and you suspect the cops drove you right along the Super-Secret Rail, the one that leads to the Seventh and that everyone jokes about.
It doesn't feel like much of a joke anymore. The white is hurting your eyes.
"Alright, Miss Fournier."
The man who comes into the room is one Captain Richard Stoles. His badge says as much, but his face says even more - he looks like he'd rather be anywhere than here.
Oh, and he looks like a pig crossed with a malformed turnip, but that's beside the point.
"Normally, I wouldn't think twice about letting you go, but we do have the damning evidence of a very reliable reporter. Which leaves me with one question…"
He folds his meaty hands on the table, shifts in his seat, and clears his throat.
"Why in the world would you do something so stupid, young lady?"
edited 30th Aug '17 7:40:03 AM by troydenite
'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023
"Why don't you just cook your own food, then?"
With that, I walked past her, and hoped that this stratum had finally gotten their fill of my "edgy", "unique", "daring" and "whateverthefuck" fashion choices.
Then, in front of me was the one place I needed to be and absolutely should avoid. I could see the two of them in the distance, but they were right in front of what was apparently my crime scene. For a diviner, my contact couldn't give me anything more up-to-date? What a help he was.
I briefly considered whether or not throwing something at them, like a rock, would get me any closer to figuring out what my connection with them was. If someone threw a rock at me, and didn't throw a second one, I'd think that they'd probably have something to say. I just couldn't count on them to have the same sensibilities as me, though.
For now, I'd wait. They'd come out sooner or later. Besides, in the corner of my eye, I saw something that could give me a great advantage in this situation.
A few seconds later, and I had a new disguise: a wide-brimmed straw hat. Think the tag said "sun hat" on it. Whatever. Even if it chaffed* nobody was going to think that the murderer would dress so tropically.
So, there I sat, at a bench while impatiently staring at these two, sipping on a can of the same drink that woman was wearing. Lemon-Lime. If you don't think Lemon-Lime is the best flavor of Nutritia, get out of my fucking face.
A dogged fellow, aren't we?
Emilie - New Arcady crime scene
The man was charismatic, she had to give him that.
Emilie had gone into this determined to give out as little about herself as possible. She was natually still skeptical of this man who had, apparently, sat there and watched her sleep for half an hour. Still, he'd managed to coax her into talking about home, her family, maybe because her home life was just as soul-shrivellingly boring as the average resident. She had still been cagey about her schooling, however, part of her keeping detached from the conversation, watching his reactions and inflections. She didn't even have to make a memory partition to do that - she'd always been an analytical sort.
It wasn't until the police line glinted up ahead that she realised that the whole conversation had probably been a simple distraction. She'd been so busy watching him like a hawk she hadn't really paid attention to where they were going. Her eyes narrowed in irritation, turned mostly inward. However, by now the insistent tug of curiosity had her, and she followed him towards the crime scene without protest. Some sort of major incident. What did I miss while I was asleep?
Once they reached the line itself, the student looked around, seeming to ignore the churchman and his conversation with the drone and the detective. Her head did dart around, though, as her would-be stalked decided to start implicating her in whatever was going on here. On orders from the patriarch himself? He's got to be bluffing, right?
"Hardly." She told the officer, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm a student. I met this man ten minutes ago in the library - where I've been since last night." She added pointedly, giving John a steely glare.
Marlene - True Elysium - Police Station
On the whole, Marlene was pretty miserable. She'd interviewed, almost been murdered, framed for a crime, arrested and was now about to be interrogated. And all before lunch, so the empty hole where her stomach was supposed to be did not help. It was a most wretched thing that sat before captain Stoles.
"Captain...please, you have to believe me, I'm being framed."
To...whatever circle of Hell they put liers and betrayers (seventh? Or was it eight?) with the advice of the droid. Sure, it'd got her to True Elysium, which was usually worthy of dressing up and having a good dinner from the best of synthesizeable ingredients. But now she was in jail and the reporter droid was out there somewhere all free and having...droid breakfast, so Marlene had decided that the box of screws had just done it to land her in it.
"She just appeared this morning, the reporter droid, asking me all kinds of questions about the Children of Gaea, which I'm not a member of, I swear on my family's name. It was because of that dreadful murder that happened tonight. And she said that mages were involved, so she wanted to talk to me because I'm a Fournier, but I said that of course we're not murderers, and we don't condone that kind of thing and all of this is absurd, and and..."
She drew a deep breath and tried to calm down. She failed, but at least she had made an effort.
"And then that crazy man entered and tried to kill me! In my room, he just walked straight in with a knife! But she disabled him somehow and saved me, but when security came in she told them I was a...a...but I'm not! Captain, you have to believe me."
Marlene was on the verge of tears.
"I'm not, I swear."
Join us in our quest to play all RPG video games! Moving on to disc 2 of Grandia!
sword of promised halp
Emilie Eberhardt; New Arcady - Beneath The Elizabeth Redux
The detective gives you an unimpressed look, his brow as wrinkled as your top. He's short, sure, but he doesn't exactly look very cuddly. He looks over and up at John, who smiles brightly.
"First murder in ten years," he mutters at last, "and what do I get? The Patriarch's wrinkled schnoz right in my face. Alright, churchman."
"Your willingness is greatly appreciated," John supplies piously, making the sign of the Spiral once more.
"Can it. Don't even think of getting through the field. Whatever you want, you'll tell us from out here."
John nods.
"You'll find a lump of bone in the third hedgerow to your left, underneath the white rose with only three petals," he says, uncannily calm. "It'll look a bit like a jack."
The detective almost blinks. Then he scowls, turns, and signals one of the drones to float over the hedge in question. The drone whirrs, sending out a green scanning-beam, which swiftly turns orange around a small white nub.
"Don't touch it," says John, just as the detective is about to bend over, gloved hand at the ready. "Get your drones to project the SNC vid, only scaled to the actual viewing balcony. Highlight and demarcate the crime scene, and beam it all to this young lady's smartglasses."
"Do it," says the detective, after a moment of silence.
The four drones rotate and shoot their wide-angle holobeams. At the same time, something hits you between the eyes like a strobing dot of light. A large municipal logo - the crest of the SPD - appears in your field of vision, forced into your smartglasses by a higher power.
This information is classified and will be erased after authorisation is removed, says the flickering text. Do not divulge anything heard, seen, experienced or inferred from this projection without the appropriate clearance.
"I know what you can do, Emilie," says John, close by, in your ear, closer than you'd like. "Tell me. Where did that nub come from?"
In simulspace, the holovid, playing out on the viewing balcony up above in infinite loop: two figures falling, a cloaked figure running, again and again, cutting out just as the couple clear the fourth floor, screaming. In meatspace, the crime scene, filled with objects marked in yellow: an old man's body, a purse, a pair of shattered bifocals, an old woman's body, a nub of bone under a hedgerow. And as equations blur across your mind, turning images into numbers into lines and vectors, a chill runs up your spine -
The nub of bone came, in a millisecond of brief impact, from both their index fingers, touching briefly and wildly as they fell to their deaths.
Zorana Dojinovac; New Arcady - In Front of The Elizabeth Redux
He's totally seen you.
The short guy, the detective. He's staring right at you, almost through your shiny new sunhat, and you're not sure how long you can stare at your feet. Little Miss Schoolgirl is spacing out at something and Ponytail is pretending not to be concerned.
"Excuse me, Miss," says the detective. "You, in the sunhat. I'm going to have to ask you to come over here for a moment."
Alright, sure, play it cool, just like an ice-cube. No sudden movements, right?
Then again, running for your life is a pretty sudden move.
Marlene Fournier; Shelter Police Headquarters - True Elysium
Captain Stoles rubs the back of his head, clearly uneasy. It seems he's not used to shaking down teary-eyed teenage girls.
"That's not for me to decide," he says at last. "As much as I'd like to believe you, Miss, it's Prometheus that'll prove your innocence... or, well, guilt. And we do have those audio recordings. Not even a gynoid like that Estelle girl could fake something like that on the fly. We'll take her in for scanning. I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for now, at least until your hearing."
The drones come in and lead you out down corridors and stairs, all melting into white as you walk past, as if to stop you from even remembering what they look like. Eventually they lead you to a cell, or at least, what looks like one. The walls melt shut behind you, in a pleasing shade of… well, you know what.
"Surprised? This whole building's one big simulchamber, you know. We could be sitting in an empty field for all we know."
There's a young man in the middle of the floor, with only one arm. Or at least, only one proper arm. His left arm is clear as gelatin, and you can see something like blood suspended inside, swimming with bits of black flesh.
"I'm Earl," he says. "I'm supposed to be on ice, but they haven't gotten round to it yet. What's your name?"
edited 11th Sep '17 10:41:05 AM by troydenite
'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023
Second thought was to act like I was one of them deaf-mutes, but nobody would believe that in this day and age. Hmmm...
Oh, I know, what if I pretended I didn't speak the language, just throw my hands up and see if he knows sign language! Well, that idea was just about as good as the last one, he'd probably find some program to translate it. I don't even know sign language.
Okay, okay, last idea, he's almost here...uhh...say that my rights are being infringed? Yeah, that'd just make me look like some hippie motherfucker.
Shit.
I did what came natural to me. I got up, looked him in the eye, and said "What's up, officer," while finishing off that can. I did not dare to litter in front of him, as the urge came to me. These Arcadyans are really anal about that.
edited 15th Sep '17 4:29:35 PM by wikkit
Marlene - Help, I'm in jail
''Don't stare at his arm, don't stare at his arm."
A simulchamber this large...she had seen the technology before, of course. Every self-respecting noble family with money to spare had one for entertainment, and the school had a few for special classes. But all of this...just to keep prisoners...it made her shiver.
Don't ask about the arm, don't ask about the arm
"I'm Mar...y. Mary Forbes."
A Fournier upbringing had done little to prepare her for prison stays, however short-term, but she knew better than to say she was of a rich family to people in prison.
Don't stare at the arm, don't stare at the-
"...is there something wrong with your arm?"
Oh, sugar.
Join us in our quest to play all RPG video games! Moving on to disc 2 of Grandia!
Konrad - Main Entrance
One knock was sufficient for the doors to open, seemingly of their own accord. With their parting, the house's vestibule was laid bare.
The room was well-lit, the two large windows flanking the door letting in plenty of light. The floor was marble, the tiles mostly white with bronze coloured vines on the edges. Murals covered much of the walls and ceiling, most depicting sites such as Westminster or the Old Town of Prague, and other important places in the history of magecraft. A few were given over to individual men and women looking very austere. In between those, the walls had the same colour as the mansion's exterior, blues and whites.
The room itself was split into two levels, joined by a central stairway, where a lone figure was now descending. Two chandeliers hung from the ceiling, though they emitted no light. On the level Konrad now stood on, archways on his right and left joined the room to the others in the house. Up the stairs, a set of double doors could be seen.
The figure had completed his descent and now stood opposite Konrad by the entrance. From the file he'd received on the Viviani, the detective would recognize this as Alexander Leon Viviani, Ioannes' eldest son. Standing tall at around 190 cm, he wore a collarless navy waistcoat over a ruffled white shirt. His short hair was completely white, with a prominent moustache in the imperial style. Though his skin was lined and wrinkled, his gait betrayed no frailty. He gently tugged his moustache as he regarded Konrad, before smiling at last.
"Welcome. It is a pleasure to meet you, detective. I am Alexander Leon Viviani."
He held out his right hand, evidently expecting a handshake.
Adeline - Breakfast
Her grandfather was the one speaking, but Adeline saw and heard all. Through her grandfather's eyes, she studied the detective as well. Just as everyone else in the family who had bothered forming a shared perception bond with Alexander. Opposite her Euphrosine sat with her eyes closed. She'd always found it disorienting to process two sets of sensory input at once. Closing one pair of eyes helped mitigate that, and Adeline was being careful not to make any additional noise.
She recognized the man as Konrad Monday, the last of his house. The realization made her frown even harder. That had been another one of the Mayor's... she shook her head. Focus on the matter at hand.
Monday seemed to be in good physical condition, which was not the case for all of his colleagues in the Shelter police. Adeline wondered what he felt as he stood there. Was there any particular significance to him being sent? A mage sent to check on his fellow mages? Did he himself have much input on the matter? Perhaps. Adeline could think of a few explanations at least, some more likely than others. How the man behaved would hopefully shed more light on the matter.
One pair of eyes saw Konrad, and twelve minds regarded him.
edited 21st Aug '17 2:43:39 AM by joergenjetsam
Conception is sin Birth is pain Life is toil Death is inevitable