The City at the Center of the Multiverse

The purple sun shone down on Balder, and Pre Vizsla basked in it.

He sat on a fleshy perch, one made of muscle and moss. The caeossi were dangerous creatures, but they were a good hunt. Not exactly tasty, though, but it was better than nothing. The dead one he sat upon was small for its kind, but a hunt is a hunt, even if he would've preferred a larger one.

"Sir," a voice said to his right. Erron Black, his trusted marshal. "We should be getting back to camp soon. Gotta be ready for when Loki returns." Which was true enough. Loki was out on another ammunition run, or at least he was leading one with two other members of Death Watch. Ammunition was a major problem with Death Watch, so much so that many Death Watch members still used bone swords. Even those with guns wielded swords with them so as to save on ammo when necessary.

"With me, Erron," Pre Vizsla, Commander of the Death Watch and Mand'alor of the Secret Mandalorians, said. He stood slowly, still glorious in the kill, and stepped off the corpse. Two other members of Death Watch, newer recruits who hadn't gone on a hunt before, stepped off too. "You two," Vizsla said. "When you get to camp, get more men and a cart to carry this thing back. We'll carve it up tonight." They nodded in unison.

They reached camp within the hour. Currently they were based in the dunes to the southeast of the city, at least for now. The Death Watch trooper on guard on the west side of the camp nodded as Pre Vizsla and Erron Black passed by. "Camp is safe, sir," he reported. Pre Vizsla returned the nod. Erron tipped his hat.

Death Watch camps varied in movability. This one was temporary, of the easy to pack up variety. Still, this camp was valuable, mainly for the fact that it consisted of some of the best troopers of Death Watch, and of course Loki, Erron, and Pre Vizsla. It only consisted of 25 people, counting Pre Vizsla and his marshals.

"Sir," someone said as he approached his tent, the center of the camp. "We have news from camp Grek. Rally master Fredrik died in the hunt."

Pre Vizsla simply raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And Gaveson and Rayley dueled over the position, of which Gaveson won. He has taken Fredrik's armor for his own and declared himself rally master."

"As he should," Vizsla declared. "Send a message back to camp Grek. 'Congratulations on your promotion, Rally Master Gaveson'. That should be sufficient." And Pre Vizsla strode over to his tent, not in the least bit troubled over the events. As he should be.

Mayor's Office

The white-painted, gold-handled double doors of Balderian wood before Shion swung inward soundlessly from an unseen force. The most the goddess would get was a shot of the grass-green carpet and the weighty purpled marble of the Mayor's desk before a voice piped up from an unclear position just in front of her.

"Oh, if it isn't Lady Shion!" it exclaimed, though its source remained wholly invisible, "Please, come in!" One of the heavy doors shut and the other was pulled further open, allowing both a more reasonable path in and a better look at the office proper.

The most immediately evident feature of the room was naturally its soft, verdant carpeting, doubtlessly chosen to compliment the many and varied spots of greenery throughout. A myriad catalogue of flowers, some native and some transplants from elsewhere in the multiverse, sat in elegantly simple pots and vases throughout the edges of the room, a flowering vine of some kind grew up from the corners over the also-green walls and intertwined on the ceiling, and a multicolored bevy of other flora sat in planters on the other side of the massive bay windows behind the desk. The room itself was both wide and long, leaving space enough for a couch and chair set of light leather centered around a large coffee table on one half, and a pair of high-backed, plush red chairs — complete with side table and unlit fireplace — on the other half. The wealth of natural light streaming in from the windows framed the entire place in a bright, cheery smorgasbord of natural colors.

"So, what have you got for me today?" the disembodied voice queried after a few moments, the Mayor's white-leathered chair indenting a bit, "And would you care for a spot of tea, dear? I was just making some!" Indeed, a piping pot of the aromatic stuff sat wafting steam atop the marble of the desk.

edited 13th Apr '18 9:35:57 AM by darksidevoid

Matt Murdock; Balder Supreme Court, Office Of The Same

I hear him before he comes, of course. Seeing as Agnes is still somewhere down in the kitchen with the kettle, I elect to open the door by my sorry self. As enthusiastically as I can, of course.

"Mr. Wake. How good to see you."

He sounds like he's smiling - I can hear his teeth. He has his hand out, too, like he's trying to test whether I really am blind.

If he knows, it's an asshole thing to do. If he doesn't, well, it's still an asshole thing to do. You don't strut into the Chief Justice's office and act like you own the place.

I let him hang for ten seconds. Look past him for a while, tilting my head, then very carefully feel my way to his fingers. Warm. He's human. I think.

"Sorry," I grin, shaking his hand firmly. "Takes me a while to pick up on these things, especially these days. This office is far too small for social functions. Why don't we sit down?"

Too late, he's already got Agnes' chair. And he's smacked something on the desk, too - smells like very dodgy homebrew, all vinegar and strange Balder fruits. I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to poison me.

"Oh, that's fine," I laugh, walking over, making sure to feel my way across the edges of the side-table, cabinet, bookshelf, and finally main desk in turn. Like I'm familiar enough with the layout, but not too quickly. Like a real blind man. "Make yourself at home. I'm afraid I've only got the one toothbrush, though, so that might have to wait for your next visit."

From what I can hear, Agnes is shaking the sugar-cubes out of the ratty jar we keep them in. We have ten minutes before she comes back and blows my cover sky-high. I sit down carefully and put my hands together, making sure to keep my eyes lolling nowhere in particular. Regular blind people don't really pay much mind to it, but Stick taught me to control everything about myself. To fake, to pretend until the pretense became some version of reality.

It's harder without a mask, really.

"So, Mr. Wake, what can I do for you? If I'm not wrong, you run one of those expedition houses, don't you? One of those terribly risky ventures that makes it a point to sail right past the walls in search of, ah, assorted goodies?"

ITCH, he calls it. Band of foolhardy idiots if you ask me, and none more shady than Mr. Wake himself. I focus my ears to read his reaction. If he can tell I know more than I'm letting on, he'll...

Wait.

Where the hell is his heart?

Franklin Yishan Murdock; Wayne School Courtyard

"T-Thanks, Yui. Again."

Thanks is right. Yui's had my back for as long as I can remember. She's got her share of sneerers and trash-talkers too - I know, I can hear them - but there aren't many kids around here who happen to be both the Commander's daughter and a honest-to-God self-healing bone-plated mutie, so no-one actually tells her anything to her face. Behind her back, maybe, but never to her face.

Me? I just listen. The only thing I can actually feel is the horn, anyway, and the fact that she seems a lot more angular than most people, and that her insides squelch a bit weird.

But she's nice, Yui. I wish she was my older sister. That'd be great. Mom would say that I really need to stop waiting for her to save me, but...

"I think it matters, too. You can sense things most people don't, so I'd trust what you say. Whoever it was, what do you think they meant?"

Not now. Not when Vigil's talking.

"I... I can't tell you that, Vigil. I mean, I can hear more about voices than anyone else, but it doesn't mean I can understand what they're saying. Do we even have a Creator? Does anyone actually agree on that?"

I can't really wrap my head around Vigil, either - I've never been around anyone who grows that fast. He was six when he came in last year, and now... well, now he's almost Yui's age, which is really weird. It must suck to leave all your friends behind every few months. I can see why he doesn't smile that much.

"You'd know, Yui. I mean, those creepy cult guys keep bowing down to you in the streets, so..."

Another chill goes down my spine, because even though they've got Lísu on a stretcher and he should be fine, he's getting up and his mouth is open and oh no it's the voice again

"AN UNMARKED ENDS THE REAPING. HEAR ME, CHILDREN! ATONE FOR WHAT THEY DID AND YOU WILL NOT BE PUNISHED!"

It's not a voice it's a din like a screaming choir of angels in my head so close why is it so close WHY IS HE SCREAMING

Caught in the confusion and noise of the crowd, completely out of himself, Franklin Yishan Murdock crumpled into a tiny ball, clamped his hands on either side of his hooded head and began to shake.

"Yui. Help. Get me out of here, the noise..."

edited 12th Apr '18 5:40:56 PM by troydenite

Little Dreemurr's Orphanage, Kitchen: Patience's A Virtue, Link!

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Given the context, Asriel might find it hard to pinpoint exactly what part of his warning was old news to Link: struggling through an alien world, getting hurt, or struggling through an alien world and getting hurt in the process. Perhaps one of the SOU Ls in his body could nudge the Monster toward Option #3.

The teenager bowed to his host and turned to collect his sword and shield. He'd tried to bury them under some of the living room's floorboards, though he wasn't sure how long they'd stay hidden from the children. He might need to find a hiding place outside the house, and if anything happened to them then...

"When can we go?" he asked, slinging the Sword that Seals the Darkness over his shoulder.

Balder Supreme Court, Judge Murdock's Office: Can't You Hear it, Mr. Murdock? The Heart in The Floorboards?

The asshole knew Murdock was blind; too bad that didn't erase the fact that Alan Wake was an asshole.

The thought occurred to the visitor to make a quip about the office itself, but that seemed a little too low-brow. It wasn't like His Honor would fully appreciate what a dump he inhabited. What a familiar curse poor Mr. Murdock suffered: to walk in a bright and sunny world, yet live entirely in the dark.

Mr. Wake sat patiently as he watched the cautious display, a bemused smile on his face. The blind man's hand shifted slowly, cautiously from the doorknob to the wall, the other to the side-table, then from the wall to cabinet, and so on till Judge Murdock felt sure enough of his position to risk lowering himself into his office chair. It was such an entertaining performance Wake felt tempted to applaud!

"No, you're not wrong, Your Honor." smiled Mr. Wake. "Least not for the first part. The Interplanetary Transportation and Cultivation House—"ITCH" for those who've got better words to use their breath on—that's one of my pet projects. You might also know Cauldron, the city's go-to place for nighttime entertainment. Now, I say 'know' because I don't recall ever seeing you there."

Wake chuckled, and the soft rustle of threads in his suit jacket signaled the man had shrugged. "It's not all about anonymous sex and getting hammered; I try to keep things classy for the V.I.P.s. You should give it a try sometime! Constituents appreciate some joie de vivre in the higher-ups; makes them look...approachable."

Mr. Wake stretched against the back of his chair like a cat at its scratching post. "But yes, Your Honor: I'm here to chat about ITCH. A little birdie told me the Fusiliers found an unsettling mass in Ol' Balder's G.I. tract, near one of those tunnels the Vets scraped out on their way to the big guy's heart. I'm thinking of buying it from our dear Commander, assuming the description's accurate. I'm just here to let The Law know what I'm up to. I'd chat with the city's 'Overseer of Trade' about it, but last I heard she's out of town and..."

The visitor trailed off. The rustles of thread and creaking chair accompanied his lean towards the Head Judge.

"...you alright, Your Honor? You look puzzled."

A sound came from the edge of Murdock's desk. Something quiet, but sharp and staccatic.

tap-tap...tap-tap...tap-tap...

Wake had started to lightly hit a fingernail on the desk surface, mimicking a heartbeat.

"Feel more comfortable now?" Matt didn't need sight to see the smile on Wake's face. "Y'know, when I first met Toph Beifong I had no idea the whole 'blind badass' trope could exist outside fiction. I made a little joke about her size—she was a pipsqueak when we arrived—and can you guess what her first words to me were?

"They were: 'You have no heartbeat.'

"Now you can only imagine what went through everyone's heads after hearing that. Ten minutes after that Holier Than Thou bitch drops us off, and everyone's already pegged me as a wolf in sheep's clothing! So they're thinking to themselves: Is he a vampire? Is he an android? Is he a demon, a ghost, a god? The answer's none of the above, by the way; maybe I'll bore you with my origin story someday, but that's not important right now."

The incessant tapping stopped, and Wake leaned away from the desk.

"Guess my point is...I know you know. Normal blind people can't beat the bejesus out of alleyway muggers. No need to put on a show for me, no matter how fun it was to watch you play the part. I promise to keep your secret if you promise to keep mine."

Another rustle, another creak, and the Head Judge might sense that Mr. Wake had (once again) extended his hand to shake.

"Deal?"

edited 13th Apr '18 1:33:37 PM by TheodoreHastings

Little Dreemurr's Orphanage

"Oh... right."

Asriel was then reminded of Link's past before coming to Balder. Waking up to a new world was something the former prince can relate to, even if the circumstances between the two are different.

"Well, after the Fusiliers come to get their supplies we can go then. School well be almost out by then, but I can leave one of the older orphans in charge for a little bit til we gets back." Even if Link does get accepted he still likely won't be allowed to live on his own, so he will still have to stay here in the city center and be safe from most of what's outside the city walls.

"Do you know what you're going to say to Kiryuin to convince her to let you join? She's a no-nonsense person from what I've seen."

edited 21st Apr '18 3:59:17 PM by goldenshark

As soon as the thief entered into the alley they would feel the presence of someone following them. A phantom, moving from shadow to shadow in a blur. It chased the running thief unseen. With its deft movements, it maneuvered its way in front of the fleeing target, seeking to cut off their escape route. Should he succeed, the man would make his presence known.

"Stop!"

The phantom turned out to be nothing more then a lanky blue haired young man in a yukata. Beautiful in his features, but hardly imposing. Only the sheathed blade at his side would give one pause. However, his voice was deep, eloquent, commanding. It was the voice of a warrior poet, like the cultured samurai in a land far from here. Through charisma alone, perhaps he could get the thief to comply with his demand.

"I saw what you did."

He brushed stray locks of hairs from his face before turning to the thief with a gaze burning with intensity.

"It was...INSPIRING!"

A fist clenched over his chest, as if he was trying to physically keep the overflowing passion from bursting from his heart.

"A despondent youth, shunned from society for being different. The mark of tribulation on their face, proof of what one must endure in these trying times. Desperate, they turn to thievery, trading in one's karma for more tangible rewards. But how could they not when not even the gods will turn a sympathetic eye to their woes. I am deeply moved."

He smiled to himself, seemingly satisfied by the narrative he seemed to be deciding for himself before checking the facts. He then held out his hand, as if asking the thief to join him.

"Come, you must be my next muse! I will create a series of new paintings showcasing the struggle of non humans. The sorrow, the pain you must endure. I will make it so all that gaze upon my works will be unable but to feel universal empathy for their brothers and sisters of all races and species. The social divides will be bridged with this brush."

Yui Kiryuin, Wayne School Courtyard

Yui had let herself start to relax – Linu was being taken care of, the crowd had backed off. Everyone would be laughing about this by lunch time. She rolled her eyes, replying to Frankie's comment with a snort of nervous laughter.

"Tch. I have a whole bunch of creepy stalkers, that doesn't mean I know anything about their weird relig-"

Then the voice started up again behind her, and she froze, a goosebumps breaking out across her skin. Is it… talking to us? Yui slowly turned, heart racing, to look at the thrashing teenager, an instinctive lump of dread dropping into her stomach. All around her, students and teachers alike were starting to edge back, as if Linu had suddenly turned into a rabid thornsnap. What… what should I do? What would Mum do?

Another voice woke her from her reverie, thin and pained and desperate. Shit, Frankie! Without a second thought, the young mutant bent down and scooped her friend up in her arms, looking around in panic. Linu was being carried back into the school, so...

"Hang in there, Frankie!" Shoving her way through the crowd, Yui headed in the opposite direction. She knew from experience that the best way to deal with this would be to get Frankie's dad, but that wasn't an option right now. Santa Barbara Park wasn't far, and it was quiet. It would have to do.

Western Gate

If the two men knew how, they might know their General’s approach; whether in the gentle gleam of his Gozep-fabric pants, rippling like a jade oil slick; the tink tink of the Fusilier badge and marking of his rank that he wore like dog tags around his neck; or the light, discordant beat he hummed under his breath, fingers itching in time to a phantom metronome that was either long-dead or hadn’t been born yet. But at no point would his feet make a sound as, fresh off of his daily inspection, he wormed in beside the chatting Fusiliers with a shaking head and a point to make.

Two jacketed arms, sleeved with the skin of some scaly-skinned beast, would attempt to sling over the shoulders of both men, before the familiar face of their General peeked through at head-level with a grin wide and toothy enough to reveal the brilliant purple-gold sheen on his lower-jaw fillings. “Now, I know I ain’t hearin’ this right.” He said, giving both men a friendly jostling of the shoulders the way a 3.0 earthquake jostles a California storefront, looking to Meiddus and especially Wolnee with an expression framed by a long, vertical scar stretching down from the bottom of his right eye, “But did you just say you was bored?"

Leaning forward ever-so-slightly, N’Jadaka would attempt to gently yet without much room for compromise direct the heads of both men over the edge of the wall, down to where it dropped sheer to the ground below. “See, once upon a time, a bunch of good people, a couple of assholes, and yours truly drew a line in the sand right there and said, ‘you know what? This is ours.’ A lot of those good people died, not enough of the assholes bit it, and then, of course, there’s Ulysses. Say hi, U.” ‘Ulysses’ was a large, long-clawed monstrosity sticking half out of the wall like a monster movie night gone wrong, and as if in deference to the General’s words, wavered slightly in the day’s breeze, claws jouncing gently up and down.

“There we go. See, when you say the words, ‘gee, I really wish something exciting would happen,’ what I hear is ‘gosh, I’d really like to guard from the bottom of the wall’. You feel me?” N’Jadaka would look from one man to the other, hoping they’d gotten what he was getting at, before flashing yet another gold-tinted smile. “So how about it, boys? You up for some excitement?”

Wayne School Courtyard

It was on crisp, clear days like today that Miki often wished she’d taken up swimming instead, so that maybe she’d feel a little bit more comfortable in the deep end. Shivering a tad, Miki pulled up the zipper on her sports jacket, though as evidenced by the shorts crafted from some animal she couldn’t readily identify, the cold scarcely bothered her; she just never failed to feel self-conscious next to the battery of other professionals who got where they were by being knowledgeable in math, or science, or the humanities. I can run really fast. And often, and well, but… As she nodded gamely to Vigil while he passed, she reminded herself that there was more to learning than what came strictly in a classroom—in her case literally, since the gym field was outside, but also in the sense that she’d learned and done things she never would have dreamed in her school life, half a lifetime and however many light years away. Still, Balder never failed to find new ways to surprise her, such as when one of her students erupted into what was either this planet’s best ventriloquist act, or something… else…

If those Northern cultists are behind this, heads are going to roll. Miki thought with grit teeth, as she attempted to wrangle the crowd of panicking children and get them inside. “Lísu’s not feeling well!” She would shout over the din, as two other teachers gathered the boy into a stretcher. “Give him his space, don’t crowd around! That’s it…” Somewhat thankful for the intervention of the Commander’s daughter, she attempted to wave the clumps of frightened children toward the school doors and safety, before wandering over back to the medical efforts with a hand drawn across her suddenly-sweaty brow. I knew I was too soft on him over those tattoos, just because Nansi has a pair like them. After this is over, I’m going to have a talk with his parents about—

The Devilman’s breath caught when the fallen child’s body rose, with eyes as purple as the sun above their heads, delivering a cryptic warning that Miki spent barely a second deciphering before stopping dead in her tracks.

Because it wasn’t Lísu’s voice. It was Miki’s voice. The other Miki’s voice.

Shock as cold and paralyzing as a spider’s venom raced through her veins, and when she next let out a shaky breath she was convinced she’d be able to see it. With janky, stiff movements, she was able to step forward and kneel at Lísu’s side, trying to put what he’d said—and the way he’d said it—out of her mind for the purposes of calming the screaming child in front of her. “Shh, shh, it’s alright, it’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you, no one’s reaping anyone today… shh… that’s it…” Looking up at Noel, she attempted to jerk her head back toward the stretcher, and would further attempt to move the boy back onto it with the other woman’s help.

It was in doing so that she caught sight of Yui making off with Franklin, and while she could guess at the girl’s intentions, the Devilman’s harried features still contorted into a scowl. “Vigil!” She called to the other boy, while she attempted to wrangle Lísu, “Please follow them, and bring them back once they’re done doing… whatever they’re doing. Nowhere in the Quadrant is as safe as this school.” One way or another, she thought, turning to cup Lísu’s cheek, because I’ll make sure of it. “Lísu? Can you hear me? Do you remember your name? Can you say it? I’ll start. Lííííí…” She would say softly, before attempting to gently yet shakily peel the boy’s hat back, and brush the boy’s bangs away from his face.

Northern Quadrant Ranch

Anansi regretted a lot of the things that had led her to this point, but flying definitely wasn’t one of them. Her whole body contracted and rippled in time with the flapping of her front wings, reorienting her a few degrees to the left while the quartet of smaller, lower wings kept up their omnipresent buzzing like four extra heartbeats. Her whole body clenched around the basket of Wegs balanced within her front claws, keeping the surface of the fish-packed vessel level even as they were buffeted by the winds coming off the mountains in the distant east. Whipping and whirling about the skies came to her as naturally as running these days, and considering how much of the latter activity she’d done with her mother, that was nothing to sneeze at.

Even now, approaching the tops of the trees, she instinctively swatted her larger pair, turning her form upward even as she slid her back legs around from clenched A-shapes to Vs, then dangling as her clawed toes sank into the soft riverside dirt. The bulk of the basket settled to the ground in time with her own, until her perpetually-scowling top wings gave one last mighty flap before falling still. The rippling sensation of her main, smaller wings coming to a stop sent a pleasant shiver up Anansi’s spine, or whatever counted as her spine, while she shook her multi-eyed head once and sent a sprouting of black locks jostling from the crown of her insectile head. From there, her angled bulk quickly lost definition, shrinking and condensing from covering to clothing, from claws to fingers, from rippling mandibles to a searching, screwed-sideways mouth, that promptly spat an entire Weg skeleton into a nearby bush. Wiping at her mouth and leaving a smile behind, the dark-skinned young woman promptly slid her arms through the straps of the basket and lifted it as though she still had the vast majority of her chitinous form at her disposal, jouncing eagerly and excitedly as she picked her way through the undergrowth to the nearby cabin.

Stepping onto the man’s porch, she took a moment to turn to the side and admire the scale of the man’s operation, willing four entire species into existence seemingly through sheer determination alone. And what have my parents ever made? Just little ol’ me. No contest. “Hi, Mister Owari—” She chirped as the door opened, before getting cut off by his near-fall and outburst, trying again a moment later with her smile a tad shakier. “H-hi, Mister Owari, I was just in the area two districts over and I was wondering if you wanted any breakfast?” She shifted her body to the side, revealing a haul of fish that had plenty for both of them, and then some. “I didn’t even fall in this time, ha ha, haaaaa…”

edited 15th Apr '18 10:09:58 PM by Uncandescent

Sin Kiske, Eastern Gate

With the job done and the Pincae retreating, Sin shook his wrist to work off the remaining hype he'd built up with that one move. Over the years spent in Balder, Sin had refined his brand of lightning magic into something precise and deadly, when before he was capable of large explosions of energy and not much else. And so, whenever he got the chance to show it off, he couldn't help but get excited. When he was developing a reputation during the last Pseudosentia Chronicles, he even tried starting up a title of his own, the 'Exciter'. It didn't stick.

All that aside, he had something else to deal with, and while Cloudcrest and their group of 'Naturalists' may not have enjoyed being lectured by the likes of the Fusiliers, Sin had to pitch in and ask something that was nagging at him, while sighing and folding his arms to properly express how tired of these shenanigans he, Okuyasu and Laura were.

"Okay... be honest with me Cloudcrest, how'd you piss them off?"

Noel Vermillion and Vigil Kiske, Wayne School Courtyard

Lísu's sudden fall caused panic to well up inside Noel, and his continued ramblings only exacerbated it. His eyes turned an even more unnatural shade of purple, his voice became a frightening cacophony of wails, like the voices of the afterlife, and his possessed body twitched and convulsed. Noel was unmistakably frightened out of her wits, frozen and watching unnerved at this display.

She snapped out of it at Mauty's pressuring, though his own panic failed to rid her of the tension that held a vice grip on her limbs. What did help, thankfully, was a familiar face stepping in. Miki kept herself calm and silently directed Noel's attention to the stretcher. Even in these sorts of circumstances, she kept herself focused on a plan of action. She had far more living experience in Balder, which led to Noel looking up to her, appreciating her advice, and in this scenario; putting her full trust into her. Nodding to her Devilman friend, Noel retrieved the stretcher and assisted Miki in gently placing Lísu back into it.

Vigil had watched with incredulity as Lísu continued in an otherworldly voice that was much like scraping steel, and by the time he'd turned back...

"Shit... that's some messed up-"

... Frankie had fallen into the fetal position, and Yui, expressing concern for him, had picked him up and bolted away from the school.

It all happened so fast, that Vigil almost failed to compute that something bad had happened to Frankie. He was left confused until Miki shouted out to him, asking him to follow the two and, in short, ensure their safety.

Nodding to his P.E. teacher, Vigil took off in their direction, making his way through the path through the crowd that Yui had already cleared for him. Some shoving was still required, however, and he wasn't quite as friendly about it with his yells of 'get off of me' and 'out of the way'.

Once he was finally past the crowd, he sprinted in chase of Yui and Frankie, all thoughts of school gladly piled onto the back of his mind.

edited 16th Apr '18 9:56:39 AM by LatverianBadger

Laeta Owari - Eastern Gates

With her ear ringing from where Cloudcrest had so kindly yelled into it, and her eyes burning from the technicolor display (though her shades had mitigated some of the effect), Laeta was already not in the best of moods. Being told off by the Fusiliers- by the people who were, by some quirk of birth, inherently stronger than her, no matter how hard she toiled and trained- was not improving it at all.

"A'right, first of all," One finger jabbed towards Okuyasu and Laura as they made their way to the gates, "I've been shovelling Pincae shit since before any of y'all even knew what they were, so how's about dropping the attitude before you do yer backs in?"

As if to demonstrate, Laeta procured a knife and stomped forward to jab it cleanly in the groove between a pincer and arm. A few harsh, hefty yanks later, and the segmented forelimb fell away. "You think we survive out here through sheer dumb luck? You think we don't know how ta avoid the buggers when they're herding 'round the mountains?" She flung the pincer down by the other Survivalists, the metal making a weighty thump as it hit the ground, before she began work on a second appendage. "Keep out the shade, avoid the harsh cliffs, it's not fuckin' spaceship science."

The second pincer was hefted onto her shoulder, the metal as heavy as the sarcasm that now began to drip from her tongue. "Well, yer right. We're all fuckin' idiots, and this was totally our fault, and we should bow down at yer feet cause y'all were so very gracious to save our dumbass hides. Let's all scoot together and chit-chat about it some more instead of headin' back in ta the city where more of the buggers can't get to us."

Finishing off with a growl that could've rivalled the sharp-clawed insects, Laeta reached out her free arm and wrapped it around Cloudcrest's neck, dragging them along with her to the gate. She ducked her head closer to them, her resentment instantly simmering down to a ruffled concern as she whispered to her leader. "So what d'you think's got the Pincae riled up? Somethin' out there made 'em antsy enough to herd closer to the city."

Akane Owari - Landing Field

Akane recoiled, shaking her hand with a fake wince and a faker hiss of pain. It'd become something of a game: the older woman trying at every junction to land a finger on her untouchable boss. The constant, never-ending failure hadn't dissuaded her at all- if anything, it only made her more fervent.

"Gotta try it once without that special little trick of yours," she replied, tapping the dirt underneath their feet, "see how well ya do then." She gave a characteristic, wide-toothed grin... which froze for a second at the mention of 'someone'. The same 'someone' that Akane could easily forget about when they were spacefaring a few hundred million kilometres away, but couldn't even go a minute on land without being reminded of.

She puffed out her cheeks- glad that her boss couldn't see her various tics and tells, cause she was kinda terrible at hiding them. "It can be open tonight if we want it to be." Puffing the air out, she leaned towards Toph with a new, cheeky tone. "It'd be a real bag of bricks that'd turn down a crew starvin' for that good ol' city chow."

Guzma - Northern Quadrant Ranch

The muttering that spilled out of Guzma's mouth could technically be construed as a string of words, though one so muddled and swift that it was more akin to the insectile chorus that pervaded his household. Eventually a parsable sentence emerged- "It's Guzma, for crying out loud, I don't have a last name..."- only decipherable because he had leaned closer to Anansi to grab two of the Weggs lying limply in her basket.

"Not that we have restraining orders- or maybe we do, hell if I know what they've got cooking in the centre nowadays- but if we did, that's what I'd be slapping in your face right now." While it sounded like the opposite of an invite, Guzma nevertheless left his door open as he retreated back into the house. Not only that, but he continued talking, as if expecting Anansi to have followed him in. "One day without some brat nipping at my heels, that's all I... ever tell you about Pyukumukus? That's you, sticking where no-one wants you."

He took a break from his rant to purse his lips and whistle. From upstairs came a new sound, this one more akin to the hum of electricity than the bustle of creepy crawlies. It grew louder, for a second resonating through their bodies until it morphed into something sharper, more metallic, and finally Vikavolt hovered down from the hole in the ceiling. The large beetle tilted his head at the humanoids, his mandibles clicking together in greeting. About as friendly a welcome as Anansi could expect without Laeta in the house.

Without a word, Guzma tossed the two fish over. Vikavolt caught them with the toothy spikes protruding from his mandibles, and the humming began anew as sparks of electricity started to dance around the two lifeless bodies. As the smell of cooked meat slowly wafted through the air, Guzma turned back to the young woman with a less aggressive, but still unfriendly frown. "So, Miss Just Happened To Be Here, what are you trying to sweeten me up for this time?"

Edited by whizzerd on Oct 25th 2018 at 1:10:02 PM

Xola held out her hands and gently wrapped her gloved fingers around Ahn's has he took her hands in his. His subtle caressing did not go unnoticed, but she didn't say anything as she felt she did not need to. Xola only needed to listen as he explained her next task. She was to find a man that was removed from death and convince him to undo his sacrilegious state. That did not sound like it was going to be a simple task, but she never shied away from a request from Ahn.

The mention of being given what she always wanted piqued Xola's interest. As far as she could think, the Chimera Ant wanted for nothing. She was curious what it was that Ahn thought she wanted. Maybe it was something she had never considered or known about. That was a moot point though if she did not complete her task. Her hands gave Ahn's a light squeeze of affirmation. "You need not worry, my dear friend. I will seek out this loveless being and share with him our greatest ideals. Do you have any clues as to where this man might be?" she asked.

Bloodfather-General Jengbish, Capitol Building - Commander's Office

Satsuki's office, on the other hand, Jengbish couldn't help but find strangely comforting. It was all posture, he knew, an artifice as calculated and deliberate as anything Kiryuin allowed on her walls, but the result was a thing he recognised from countless personal quarters and the offices of a thousand petty planetary officials. There was a whiff of nostalgia to the whole affair. If this was a shrine, it was to something he understood, the only language he had in common with the entire inner district - sacrifice, glory, and honour. Frozen at arm's length and admired from afar, but revered nonetheless.

Besides. He knew most of the men in that painting, and they'd died damn well.

"Right here," he said, still standing - in these parts, they'd yet to find a chair that could withstand him. He withdrew a thick bundle of parchments from a pouch on his breastplate, stamped and signed in triplicate, and placed them gently upon the commander's desk.

"First, you should know we found a few munitorum crates buried in the sand out east, most likely late windfall from the Fourth Wave. Nothing exotic, just stubbers. Kalashnikov-pattern, Ghale tells me, seven hundred and fifty units. Good condition, but you know how it is with those things. We took forty for the Lodge, a hundred and fifty for for Castellan Ko's armouries at the southeast fortress. The rest should be with you by the end of the week. The Catellan's been low on seven-six-two ever since the last crusade, as you know, so I've included requisition orders. Sign off quickly, you know how she gets."

He brushed the top two parchments to one side, and turned the third to face her, a dense collection of maps, writings, and grisly sketches.

"Second, I found the remains of a camp about a half-day's ride to into the mountains, about thirty men or so, long gone by the time we got there. Trail went cold a few miles out, but I can tell you they were heading north. Gods know why. There was a corpse there, Deathwatch, too far gone to take back with us. Looked like he'd been beaten to death. Some scout party or other, I'd say. Viszla would have made sure they got rid of him properly."

He paused, studying her face for something, and smirked at a private thought. The remaining sheath of reports he pushed to the edge of the desk, and tapped them absent-mindedly with an armoured finger.

"Those are the only pressing issues. We finished repairs from the Shunts about three weeks back, food stores are holding, nothing major from the wildlife. Recruitment is up same as always after the migration, but we'll see how many stick around. No news is good news, isn't that the saying?"

"I wish I had, Sister Xola." Anh frowned, letting go of Xola's hands and motioning for the other Thanatologist to leave. "But I know exactly where you need to go. Unfortunately, two days ago, one of our Brothers was physically harassed on the streets of the Eastern Quadrant... it seems as if a few vendors thought it smart to publicly chide his belief. Since there was no one around to quell their blasphemy, others felt as if they were allowed to shower him with rocks. Do not worry, Sister Xola, his injuries are being taken care of. And..."

Anh reached into his robes, pulling out a small piece of parchment with the Fusilier symbol stamped on it, right underneath the only two things written in it: the current date and the signature of a Fusilier Lieutenant. "It has given us a reason to finally push for a meeting with the Mayor. I want you to be our representative, Sister Xola. You will use our Brother's suffering as proof that the Mayor must finally grant our family the protection it deserves. And if she refuses, you will remind her that many of the people she has sworn to represent share our beliefs."

He carefully placed the parchment in Xola's palm, one hand reaching for her chin and guiding her to look up. "And once she has finally accepted that we deserve to be heard, you will ask her for the identity of the man who cannot die. She knows who this man is, Sister Xola, for he was one of the original warriors. And as a herald of the blessings of death, you must hold your head high and reclaim his identity from her." Patting her on the shoulder warmly, Anh smiled. "Can you... enlighten our poor Mayor, Sister Xola?"

"Well, she's not the start— she's not the first one I've interviewed." Qilli said, holding tightly onto his bag as he followed the old crone up the stairs, shifting his focus from her to his attempts at trying to match her pace without ever stepping in front of her. "I've interviewed others. I want this to be the most comprehensive history of Balder ever published... despite the fact it will be the first one."

"The people who come here, the newcomers, they should have access to this information, shouldn't they? And I think... I think the Mayor will be... a v-valuable addition to the story— essential, even, I mean, she's the Mayor. The first one, the only one so far. And she was here from the start, you don't get more authority than that."

With a soft 'aye-aye' and a salute, Andressa practically flew to her desk, though her eyes remained stuck on Jengbish. If he were to look at her, however, the Corporal would speed up her pace and avert her gaze, hiding as much of her face from the General. Andressa didn't like to wear her heart on her sleeve, but how could she control herself when near such an iconic figure as the General himself?

The mutant thief skidded to a halt once he saw the young man, though it was clearly the presence of the shadow and the fear of an incoming power that convinced him to stop running. All throughout the man's long preamble, the thief's hands hovered around his waist, the hilt of a blade sticking out of his belt, ready to be drawn and used at the most opportune moment. But when the man revealed his true intentions, the thief's hands just fell to his side, and he almost dropped his precious new pouch.

A distant yell ('stop that thief' spoken in angrish) made the thief snap back into reality. He took a good look at the man, assessing his clothes, and just shrugged. "Fine. Like I ain't got a better place to be." If anything, this guy was just another one of the city center's many rich idiots, who walked around like they owned the damn place. Which they did, but... you get the idea.

Throwing the pouch into his shirt and feeling it rest in between his chest and the fabric, the thief took the man's hands and smiled. "So what's this muse's thing all about?" His smile disappeared for a moment. "You're not one of those weirdos who paints naked people, are you?"

"Then it's a deal. You tell 'em to stay open tonight cause I want to eat as much as possible. And you know I can eat just about anything they put in front of me." Toph chuckled, placing a hand on Akane's shoulder. "Now, we're gonna make this a private affair, okay? I wanna talk to you about our next mission. We may have found a new planet, and I can't think of anyone else better to go to the surface with me... especially since I think this new planet might also want to kick our ass-"

Suddenly, Toph's grip on Akane's shoulder tightened up considerably, almost as if she was trying to actively injure the woman. Her blank eyes suddenly focused on something, something which she couldn't see, but could very well hear. It was a cry, the likes of which she had only seen a few times before, accompanied by a heartbeat, the true reason for her sudden change in demeanor. "Find Princess Pea and invite her to the dinner." She said, her voice suddenly lacking its usual playful tone. "She'll want to hear about it too. I need to go."

And with that, Toph slung her bag around her shoulder and slid down the ramp, waving both of her arms in a forward circular motion. The ground beneath the ship cracked as the earth opened up and slowly absorbed her two feet, before suddenly rushing forward in a wave, carrying along its master at an incredible speed. As she soared through the streets of the City Center, leaving behind cracked cobblestone and a few tipped trash cans, Toph made sure her shockwaves were strong enough to reach Santa Barbara Park.

None of the passerbys would notice- but Franklin would.

Cloudcrest stared hard at Okuyasu, their way of expressing disbelief at the Fusilier's lack of intelligence. "I don't understand how you're even here." They said, shaking their head and deciding to shove Okuyasu deep into the 'must ignore' part of their brain. Now that the danger was gone, Cloudcrest had resumed their usual modus operandi, which involved a tendency towards naturally shoving all those who regarded him as a mad man into that same bag the Fusilier now found himself in.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence." They hissed, pulling their own cloak away from Okuyasu and Laura. "Piss them off?!" They snapped outrageously at Sin. "I'll have you know that we didn't piss them off. We never piss them off. It is our utmost belief that all of Balder's creatures should be allowed to live their lives untouched by the corrupting hand of our kind!" As Laeta pulled them away, Cloudcrest made sure to give Sin one last glare before focusing on the question at hand. "I don't know. I've never seen them like that. By all accounts, it just... it just doesn't make sense!"

As the naturalists followed their leader, the one who lost his cloak hugged himself, pulling on his shirt's short sleeves. "Cloudcrest's brother made that for me. Did you know how much that cost?" He growled at Okuyasu, though with his high-pitched voice, his growling sounded more like whining.

Lísu's single tone chanting slowly gave way to the crying of a teenager who had no idea what was going on. His hands immediately wrapped around Miki as he shoved his head against her neck, bawling his eyes out, his voice having returned to normal. "Please make it go away! Please make it go away!" He pleaded, his entire body holding onto Miki as if the ground had disappeared beneath his feet.

Though he wasn't opening his eyes anytime soon, brief views of his pupils indicated that it had all gone back to normal, much to the other teachers' delight. "Back inside, kids, back inside!" Mr. Mauty chided the crowd that had gathered around Lísu, motioning viciously for them to go away. "Ms. Kuroda, please, stay with him as much as he needs." He removed his half-glasses, wiping the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief. "I'll send a messenger for his parents right away."

In an almost comedic sync, the two guards irked and froze under their General's grasp. "General N'Jadaka!" Wolnee slid out from the General's hand and saluted him once, twice, three times. "We were j-just talking! Meiddus doesn't mean a single thing he has just said. You know how it is, right? Early in the morning, you get so tired your mind j-just goes weird places and starts saying things that are one hundred percent not true!"

"Yeah, yeah, what he said!" Meiddus added, not courageous enough to move away from N'Jadaka, but still harboring enough strength to viciously point at Wolnee, nodding all the way through his whole apology. "I was just joshing, just talking out of myyyy mouth- that's not a thing anyone says - I didn't even sleep with anyone, the guy just refused me a-a-and I was angry and wanted to blame someone for my failure!"

"Don't you think you're going a little bit too f—"

"I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE BOTTOM OF THE WALL!" Meiddus shrieked, interrupting his friend's attempt at saving his apology.

Okuyasu Nijimura, Eastern Gates

"Hey, why's everyone ganging up on me?"

Okuyasu said this with a hint of anguish and a tap of sarcasm. His day was going fine until these people decided to try to shove their sticks up his butt. In reality, he was intrigued by Laura's, and by extension his, presence here today. She never passes up a chance to go with the Bloodfather into the capital!

Eastern Gate

"It's not that I doubt you and your friends' survival skills under normal circumstances," Laura said as she gave the second all-clear signal to the Fusiliers on the wall, "I just doubt your survival skills when you and your friends' are surrounded by two dozen Pincae that are more aggressive then usual."

She looks over at Cloudcrest as he snapped at Sin and talks to Laeta. Her senses tell her that he is not lying, and the naturalists don't smell particularly of Pincae. She herself was not sure why the metallic bugs were acting like they were, just knows that there are a lot of them and they are more bold then usual.

She turns to the one who lost their cloak, "I apologize for the loss, but it was used to stop unnecessary bloodshed. We likely would have killed them all otherwise, so take pride in that."

Balder Capitol

"And here we are" Asriel said as he looks at the capitol of the city with Link No Last Name. Asriel admits that while it's nice to get out and stretch his legs, so to speak, it can be a little uncomfortable with the stares thrown at him. Being the tallest person in the city, the only monster, and an original warrior, it's unavoidable. Even signing an autograph for a fangirl and having to explain to said fan that no, he does not have plant magic like in the play. It's nice to be loved, but it does hurt a bit when asked what Mumen Rider was really like.

He's still here actually he can't help but think. But he tell her that he was every bit a brave hero everyone depicts him and more.

Now at the capitol building the two walk through the doors, not needing to duck under them as they are made for taller folks in mind (thank you Jengbish) and walks to the receptionist.

"Howdy, if she's not too busy, can we get an audience with Commander Kiryuin? Tell her Asriel is asking."

edited 21st Apr '18 3:58:23 PM by goldenshark

If only the artist could read minds, he would be unable but to laugh. Him some nouveau riche living in the city center? It seems the thief never learned the natural state of an artist is to suffer for their craft, usually in ways of hunger pains. The thief was actually probably richer then he, and that was before his ill gotten goods. But alas, the minds of others was an illusive concept to Yusuke, perhaps more so then most.

However, he could not hide his surprise at the thief's last statement. Where ever did such an idea come from? Him a weirdo who paints people naked!? He smiled, waving off the idea as the misguided assumption it was.

"Perish the thought, I am no such thing. I am an artist who is able to capture the sculpt and beauty of ones natural state to be immortalized upon the canvas through intricate brushwork. Its very different. Speaking of which, we must act quickly while the flames of passion still burn brightly and illuminate the path this brush shall take. However first..."

The artist would try to close the distance with the grace and speed befitting Phantom Thief. His hand reached to snatch the stolen purse, a thief stealing from a thief. It would be a relatively easy task. The dragon like teen's tunic had a make much like his yukata, allowing for easy access. Should he be successful, the artist would continue, explaining his actions.

"Its best we return this. While making for a compelling narrative, it would actually be quite troublesome if you stole that man's money. As tempting as it is punish boorish behavior, we must uphold ourselves to the ideas we seek. This theft would only serve to reinforce his narrow views and justify his actions. We can't have that when we are seeking to expand the horizons of the public's mind. Fret not though friend, for while you lose this coin to it original owner, together we shall provide a means in which coin shall be given willingly, thus there will be no need to take."

Capitol Building Reception

The receptionist - a stern-looking fusilier with pointed ears and an astonishingly precise bowl cut - looked up... and up, and up, raising one distinctly-shaped eyebrow a few millimeters to express his surprise at seeing another Original Warrior at his desk that morning.

"I am not familiar with the minutiae of Commander Kiryuin's schedule. However, I can say with some confidence that she will be quite busy." He shot a glance at Link, before turning back to Asriel. "May I ask the purpose of your visit, Mr Dreamur? If it is urgent, a runner may be dispatched to the Commander's office."

"Little Dreemurr's Orphanage" -> Capitol Building: Link Meets A Pointy-Eared Person and Squees Like Buddy the Elf

Link's murmured "I'll think of something." wasn't about to spark any confidence. For anyone. He had no idea what to say to someone like the Commander, in no small amount because Asriel was absolutely right with his concerns: Link knew nothing about Balder. The city, the government, the culture, the currency, the military, the architecture, the food, the drinks, the people, the animals...even the damn sky was different!

What little he did know about the Fusiliers was that they accepted recruits, and that he wouldn't make the cut if he talked to anyone less than Commander Kiryuin. Far as a first step goes, that was all he needed to start his quest.

Traveling through the city center on the Master Cycle was a little more cumbersome now that the city was actually awake. Link missed the deserted streets of dawn, and wasn't very fond of the strange new fissures trailing through the streets. Those hadn't been there this morning...

Inside the capitol building, Link was hit with a bizarre sense of nostalgia. The architecture was nothing like the buildings back home, but it somehow expressed the same impressive authority of Hyrule Castle. This was the place where laws were made, where order was preserved. Home to the highest office on the planet, and the leader of Balder's military. Link stood on regal ground; not exactly sacred, but nevertheless worthy of honor and respect.

The thought suddenly occurred to him that his boots weren't exactly spotless. As he and Asriel turned a corner, Link tried to frantically scrape off the caking mud and dirt using the sharp edge of the wall's corner, then caught up to Mr. Dreemurr before anyone noticed.

It felt strange walking beside the Monster Prince like this. Link knew he was almost fully grown now, but the sheer size of his patron made him feel like a kid again. Not that he really remembered much about his childhood, of course; there were still too many holes in his head after spending a century essentially coming back from the dead.

When the odd pair finally approached the receptionist's desk, Link let Asriel do the talking; dialogue was never one of the Champion's strong suits. That said, there was a certain quality about the man behind the desk that struck Link almost immediately.

Pointy ears...he looked Hylian! Hell, if his bowl cut hair was brown and he had a mustache and he learned how to smile for once in his life, the receptionist could've been the splitting image of Hudson!

Link jumped on the chance. "It's urgent." he nodded. "My name is Link. I'm the last Champion of Hyrule, and if we're ever going to stop the Calamity I need to speak with her."

Southern Wastes, Death Watch Camp: Special Delivery!

The sound of flapping wings brushed outside Pre Vizsla's tent, followed by the caws of a raven. It held a letter in its beak; a flimsy piece of parchment simply folded in half because the sender couldn't be bothered to Mac Gyver together an envelope.

Once the parchment was taken from its beak, the raven would dissolve in a wisp of black smoke.

The letter was addressed to "Viz," dated today, and read like this:

Hope you're doing well. Heard you managed to get a band together like you wanted. Good for you, buddy!

That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about: I've got a job for you and your Watchers, Deathwatchers, Death Watch (sorry for the mess, don't have lots of paper lying around right now). I've been doing pretty well for myself these past few decades, so I can pay you guys well. REALLY well.

If you're interested, head over to my place in the city center: the big jagged building called Caldron. Feel free to bring a few of your buddies if you want, but I'd like to keep this party low-key. We're just talking business and catching up.

Just drop by sometime around noon today. Don't worry about sending a return message—these feathered shits aren't really smart enough to find their way back.

Hope to see you soon!

Mr. S

edited 22nd Apr '18 11:08:25 AM by TheodoreHastings

Capitol Building

"What, what?"

The boss monster turns to the Hylian, as the receptionist gives Link a skeptical look, "I thought you said you wanted to join the Fusiliers, whats this about a Calamity?"

edited 22nd Apr '18 8:25:44 PM by goldenshark

Matt Murdock; Balder Supreme Court - Chief Justice's Office

"I'd advise you not to talk about my wife, Mr. Wake," I smile. "Walls have ears, and she owns the walls."

It's slightly harder to keep the smile up this time, even with all my experience. He feels exactly like a human. His joints creak the same, his vocal chords buzz the same, his weight shifts the same on the floorboards. Even his sweat smells the same. It's just that damn missing heart, throwing me off like a hole in my head.

"I'll confess, you got me. You've heard about what I do from time to time, at least on your side of the streets. But that leaves me with one question, Mr. Wake."

I really, really want to break his hand. Instead I grasp it in an instant, firmly, without the slightest hesitation. Joe Bloggs'd miss it if he blinked. I hold for a second, feeling him. Sensing him. Making sure I know exactly where every part of him is, just in case I need to blow out one or two.

"Why in the world would I, the Chief Justice of Balder, take time out of my busy schedule to beat the snot out of two muggers in a morning alleyway?"

I brighten my smile and tighten my grip. That's the only way to match these smug jerkasses. Outshine them. Blind them. Make them squirm.

"Did anyone tell you what they used to call me?"

Franklin Yishan Murdock; Santa Barbara Park

At some point the din in my ears tapers off and the only sound left is my own ragged breathing and the heartbeat in the small of my back. Yui's heart. My throat tastes like iron and lime.

"Where..."

My own voice shoots into my brain like a jackhammer, and I clap my hands over my ears again with a strangled whine. The sounds of feet bludgeoning the ground, of birds thrashing through the sky, of voices here and there and everywhere, of the children rampaging through the grass, of the blood boiling like lava beneath the skin of the god -

No. Breathe, Franklin. You've got this. It's just another overload, you've been having them since you were born. Just do what Dad told you to and block it out. Control it.

The noises contract as I close my mind, screening them off with wall after wall, circulating my chi to flush my meridians and realign my energies. I peel my hands from my clammy hood and slap them together until they ring. The pain helps me focus.

"This... this is Santa Barbara, isn't it?" I wince. "You lugged me all the way here, Yui?"

Vigil's here, too, but I'm not too sure how to thank him for coming along. I mean, I could just say it, but that would be lame. Then again, I can't think of anything, and he is just standing there, and I'm pretty sure he was trying to catch up to us this entire time, and... uh...

"Thanks," I croak. "To both of you, I mean. You didn't have to do it, I wouldn't have died or anything... but thanks, anyway. You're the best. Really."

Well, that makes me the lamest person in this entire city. If only I could do something for Yui. Be a hero, like Dad, or take her on a trip to another world, or, well, anything. Even save her from that tremor she definitely can't...

Oh. Oh, no. Not like this.

"It's... it's my Mom!" I squeak, trying to sound much larger than I actually do. "She thinks I'm in danger, she's coming right this way, and when she finds out it was just a loud voice and some schoolkids..."

When she finds out that you spent the last fifteen minutes in Yui's arms like a baby...

"She'll try to whip me into shape again. With rocks. Huge rocks!"

I clamber out of Yui's grasp and stumble to my feet. Contact. The ground spreads out beneath me like a tapestry, a woven tale of sound and motion. She's getting closer. I wobble around and raise my fists in a very bad peek-a-boo guard.

"Vigil! Hit me! Please?"

edited 23rd Apr '18 5:55:22 AM by troydenite

Western Gate

“Mmm-hmm.” N’Jadaka said in response to Wolnee, thin amusement dancing across features that were still hardened on the edge between playful and predator. Using the arm yet draped across Meiddus’s shoulders, he would give the man a good shake, then reach up a hand to prod and gently straighten the front of the man’s uniform. “See, the downside to chasing tail,” he said in an authoritative, almost educational tone, “is that every once in a while, you get fucked.” Giving the man’s shoulder a soft pat, he let the man forward, gesturing him to take a spot next to his peer. “Now, there’s a Faire brew downstairs that’ll help with a hangover—if you have to puke, do it over the side—and at least try to miss Ulysses.”

N’Jadaka nodded once more at the monster, before his features turned somber as he looked out at the rising sun. “Let me tell you a little secret. Somethin’ we call ‘circadian rhythms’ means that everythin’ out there opens their eyes at sunrise, or sunset. That’s why we’re all sitting up here, freezing our asses off. That’s why you, specifically, are up here, because I know you can get the job done.” N’Jadaka looked back to the pair, crossing his arms commandingly in front of him. “If ya’ll can do what you did five years ago to whatever comes through that tree line, we’ll be in good hands. But I need to know that your head’s in the game. Even if you’s lonely,” he said, throwing a not-unsympathetic glance Wolnee’s way, “or you’re just notchin’ your rifle until you can move on up,” he continued, throwing a much-less-impressed look Meiddus’s way, “just keep what’s in, in, and what’s out, out, and we won’t have a problem. None of us will. And you’ll get to sit here, and be bored, knowing that by doing so you are doing a fantastic job.”

Stepping forward, N’Jadaka would make to rest a hand on Meiddus’s shoulder and use the other to attempt to do up the front button on Wolnee’s uniform. “So the next time I hear one or both a’ ya’ll’s complainin’, Imma tell you about a little story from back home called ‘Humpty Dumpty’. It’s about this egghead who falls off a wall, splatters all over the ground. Big laughs, kids love it.”

Wayne School Courtyard

Miki’s strong arms wrapped around Lísu’s body as he fell against her, thoughts of his identity crisis fading away as she noticed the pale, terrified shade of his eyes. “It’s okay! It’s alright. No one’s going to hurt you.” Miki tucked him into her embrace, rocking slowly back and forth in counter to his harried breathing. “Ask if they’ve been having problems purifying their water!” She called after Mr. Mauty, covering Lísu’s ear with one hand as she pressed the other into her increasingly-wet shoulder, before looking to the boy with equal parts worry and affection. “If we’re lucky, it’ll be something silly like that…” She murmured, before releasing the boy’s head and propping her chin atop his hat.

Miki would then look over at Noel, attempting to mouth the word Nurse before jerking her head in the direction of the school’s infirmary, hoping that made her message clear. Then, adopting a tone honed through years of motherhood (and comparatively fewer years of teacherhood), Miki would gently stroke the upper section of Lísu’s back. “Sometimes, we just say things we don’t mean. But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault…” She said lowly, assuredly, letting the boy cry as much as he needed to.

Abruptly, her own thoughts dived decades into the past, to one of the most meaningful times she’d held and been held by someone like this, a memory no doubt coaxed out of the depths by the phantom voice still ringing in her ears, that had so recently taken refuge in the boy’s throat. “I liked you before, and I like you now too…” She said at the same time she remembered, and what she felt was a highly inappropriate tear glistened at the edge of her eye before she was able to blink it away into the recesses of the student’s headwear. Moving her hands to the boy’s shoulders, she attempted to give them a conciliatory rub, before pushing him gently forward, and looking him in the eye. “Do you feel better now? Do you want to talk about it?” Gathering the bottom edge of her jacket, the Devilman teacher made to wipe away any remaining tears, before pushing back his hat so that she could fuss and fiddle with any hair that might be drooping into his face. “‘Unmarked,’ that’s kind of a funny term. Did you hear it from somewhere? You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

Northern Quadrant Ranch

Even after her elder took two of the limbed fish, Anansi found herself shuffling fitfully from foot to foot as she stared into the menace and promise of the open doorway—until Guzma’s surly voice pulled her in like a fly at the end of a fishing line, the Devilman’s smile stretching up the sides of her face while she made to kick the dirt off her shoes before the threshold and mind the existing damage to the opposite wall when she closed the door behind her. “Yeah, Pyukumukus!” She said with more confidence than she felt, drawing on a half-remembered anecdote from who knew how long ago. “They’re the ones who do everything with their stomachs, right? I can definitely see the resemblance, ha ha…”

Depositing her basket next to the room’s counter, she spared the buzzing crate a curious, passing glance before movement from up above drew her attention like a bug to a zapper. As her hair began to stand on end, her smile decreased in wattage if not intensity, and she moved forward to greet the over-sized insect as he dropped out of the sky like so much space debris. “Hey there, Vika-Vika!” She exclaimed, bending over and reaching out in an attempt to scratch at the creature’s chin. “Keeping Lily’s room warm? I’m sure she appreciates it~.” Anansi said with a soft hum in imitation of the creature’s own, her hand attempting to slip around the top of the creature’s head in order to pat it on the top.

Anansi swiftly backpedaled as her catch was thrown into the creature’s jaws, and settled in at the counter with her hands supporting her chin for the dreamy spectacle of cooking meat. Guzma’s question threw her for a loop, however, and she found herself having to blink her dilated eyes a few times before the answer could rise above the smell filling her nostrils. “Nothing! Nothing, really.” She responded, equal parts defensive and placating, even as she idly pushed herself back from the counter, pulled herself forward, then leaned back again in a rhythm. "I just know that it's been a while since Lily last left, and I'm not sure when Mrs. Owari is supposed to be getting back, so I wanted to make sure you weren't lonely." She then pressed flush to the edge of the counter, her posture cocking forward and her features lighting up. "I also thought I'd check to see if you needed help with anything." She said, eagerness dripping off of her like a melting icicle.

edited 23rd Apr '18 7:59:17 PM by Uncandescent

Capitol building - Satsuki's office

Satsuki listened intently as her general spoke, his deep rumble cutting through the faint sounds of the Capitol Building coming alive for the morning.

"Good. Quartermaster Trollstone will be pleased. The service rifle project is gaining momentum, and the Kalashnikov is one of the more promising candidates."

As Jengbish continued, Satsuki broke from her relaxed posture and leaned forward in her chair, reaching out to take the third report with one hand. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she scanned the page, although it was not the gruesome artwork that gave her pause. Pre Viszla was no longer the annoyance he had been in the old days, when he had poached good men from her Fusiliers and disrupted the districts his Death Watch camped in. They were still a rogue element, however, an armed fighting force outside of her control.

After a moment, she let the page join the stack on her desk. "That is what they say, General." She said thoughtfully, leaning back and folding her hands in her lap once again. She would send word to the north to to keep an eye out for Death Watch activity. For now, that would suffice.

"Good work. Tell the Castellan she will get what she needs." The last crusade had been a resounding success, but even so, it had decimated their reserves. Every district was low on ammunition, but eastern strongholds consumed significantly more than the others. "The expeditionary ships returned this morning. If your staff have any updates to your request lists for the next flight, now is the time."

"If that is all, you may go."

—

Santa Babara Park

Panting softly, Yui finally came to a halt in the cool shade of the old spaceship's fuselage. A flat protrusion at ground level - a landing gear pod or something - formed a usable bench, so the mutant girl sat and gingerly settled Frankie beside htoer, keeping one arm around his shoulders as he starts to clap his hands together.

Okay... okay, he's doing his exercises... She let out a relieved sigh, letting her head dip down. If he was with it enough to do that, he was probably gonna be fine. She heard footsteps approaching and looked up in time to see Vigil following them into the park. She hadn't noticed him following - too preoccupied, she guessed.

She gave the boy a wave and a silent shhhh motion, looking back down as Frankie started to speak.

"It's quiet and secluded this time of day." She said softly, shrugging. "It was the first place I could think of. And look, you know your whole self-depreciation thing doesn't work on me, just - wait, what?"

Yui let Frankie jump out of her arms, a familiar flavour of anger rising in her stomach as she processed his panicked news. Beifong. Typical. She let out a disgusted noise, fists clenching. She wished they let her take her sword to school. She always felt calmer with the scabbard in her hand. More like her.

"Vigil, don't hit him." She said, jumping to her feet and putting a hand on Frankie's shoulder. Her voice had taken on a cold, flat edge. "Frankie, if your mother has a problem, she can take it up with me. Rocks or no rocks."

—

Capitol Building Reception

Link's outburst did not seem to endear him to the receptionist, whose disapproval ratcheted his eyebrow up a few more millimeters.

"There are recruitment stations in every quadrant. I can also provide you with some informative pamphlets." He told Asriel, voice even sterner than usual. "If you believe your companion has... actionable intelligence, I can file a report with the appropriate departments."

edited 23rd Apr '18 7:27:52 PM by LittleMako

Shion - Mayor's Office

Tea did sound good, thought Shion. Then the thought of her sister, annoyed, reared its head. Still, a spot of tea wouldn't take too long, and the Mayor could stamp the forms while they waited and everything would be fine.

"Yes, I definitely would like some tea," said Shion, opening the folder and drawing out the relevant papers. "Just approve these while we wait. This one is for the lot we've chosen, this one gives us permission to pick an architect from amongst the citizens, this one approves the budget we've drawn up, and a few more of that type."

Vigil Kiske, Santa Barbara Park - AND HERE COMES THE GIANT FIST

Vigil finally saw Yui stop in Santa Barbara Park, and he skidded to his own stop close to them. Yui's silent gesture clarified what the problem was, and the young Gear approached as quietly as he could, keeping all unnecessary motions to a minimum.

The two were seated down, Frankie was calming down, clapping his hands together apparently helped with that, and Yui seemed to allow herself to relax too. In summation; they seemed okay.

The job wasn't done though, he had to get them back as soon as he could.

"I just needed to make sure you two were okay. She's the one who got you out of there, you should just be thanking her."

His response to Frankie's thanks was stated as matter-of-factly as a completely honest young boy would, all signs of Frankie's intent flying over his head, and truly demonstrating how much less he saw than the blind guy.

Frankie shot up all of a sudden, proclaiming that, of all people, his Mom was closing in. He said something along the lines of 'huge rocks', and Vigil didn't really understand at first. Was his Mom gonna beat him up or something? It was only when the nervous, blind twelve-year old asked the blatantly abnormal two-year old Gear slash fifteen-year old human to hit him was the confusion dispelled, as Vigil's status as a one-track mind went undefeated once again.

"Uh... okay."

Apparently willing to comply, Vigil winded up a fist, preparing to quickly tap Frankie on the nose with it (which would probably equate to a normal human punch, though Vigil was never certain in his own ability to approximate), but Yui stood up and protested, and Vigil complied to that just as easily.

"Uh... okay."

He put the fist down, and silently figured that if Frankie's Mom was really going to beat him up with rocks, he wasn't gonna let that happen either. Rather than reassure Frankie like Yui did, Vigil just folded his arms and looked his usual disgruntled but otherwise unassuming self, nodding his head at Yui's statement with the intent to quietly agree with her.

Noel Vermillion, Wayne School

Trusting Miki with Lísu, Noel nodded in acknowledgment and rushed off in the direction of the infirmary they'd been heading to. Lísu was unlikely to be going anywhere, or to be carried anywhere in his present state. As soon as she reached her destination, she called for the nurse, her normally steady, soft voice now upped just a few pitches as she attempted to explain the situation.

"Lísu needs help outside! He..."

"...he might be hearing things and he's in distress!"

Sin Kiske, Eastern Gates

Cloudcrest's and Laeta's reprimandings were met with an annoyed 'whatever' from Sin, clearly not seeing eye to eye with them in that moment. Both sides had made it clear that they didn't think much of the other, but Sin, as much as he was annoyed, realized that at some point, they had to try to reach some sort of understanding.

Sighing, he got between the coatless Naturalist and his comrades.

"Look, man, it was my idea to use something flammable, and for that, I'm sorry. And... I'm beginning to feel like we're getting off on the wrong foot with you guys, so let's start over."

Now with a smile that seemed to assume the Naturalist's offense was already gone and smoothened out, Sin extended a hand.

"Sin Kiske, Fusilier, pleasure to meet'cha."

edited 26th Apr '18 9:07:48 AM by LatverianBadger

The thief didn't even have time to react, watching in astonishment as the Phantom Thief literally stole the coin purse right under his eyes. "What the—" He hissed, patting himself, as if expecting the other thief's hands to still be inside his tunic. "How the fu... how did you do that... you were standing there and then you were—" Not one to be left blubbering like a common fool, the thief quickly reached into his belt, pulling out a twisted dagger and slipping into a defensive position.

"You're gonna give that back." He growled, his face quickly wavering between confusion and half-hearted attempts at putting on a strong face. "I don't know if you're just playing some kinda game with me, but I need that money, and I sure as hell ain't gonna wait for people to give me money. That's... you get what a thief is, dontcha? You look rich, you seem like you do." The thief started careful steps towards his mark. "So how's about you give me back my reward, and then we'll just go on our merry ways, no harm, no foul done, hm?"

He held out his free hand, the other one still clutching the dagger just in case the Phantom Thief decided to pull off another trick.

There was a sharp hem as the Naturalist cleared his throat, looking from Laura to Sin, back and forth, as the gate back to Balder opened up. "I know who you people are. And I know exactly what to tell you." He swatted Sin's hand away... and suddenly gripped him by the back of his neck, pulling him close so his lips were touching Sin's ear. Carefully, he whispered a few words, his eyes staring right at Okuyasu, now having gained a sudden unnatural purple shade, the same color as the sky.

Once the message was delivered, the Naturalist pulled Sin away, clapped his hands, bowed to Okuyasu and disappeared in a mixture of a bright purple flash and a flurry of purple-feathered birds, which soon squawked and skittered their way back into the skies, flying into the horizon as soon as their feet got off the ground.

"What... was that?" Cloudcrest muttered, looking back and noticing the disappearance of their comrade. "W-where did that guy go to?"

The vibrations stopped, as a wave of stone displaced Toph Beifong onto Santa Barbara Park before returning to its original state. "Yishan." She said, narrowing her eyes as she walked towards her own son, not even bothering to pay attention to either Vigil or Yui. "What's going on? I felt your heartbeat. It sounded a lot like the kind of stuff I helped you deal with, except you were clearly not dealing with it." Her expression softened for a moment, but only until she decided to acknowledge the other two heartbeats in the situation.

"What happened here?" She asked out loud, raising an eyebrow, a sign that both kids could answer her question. "What the heck are you two doing to Yishan?" She followed up, crossing her arms and furrowing her brow. "I know who you two are, so don't try to bullshit me." That last phrase seemed specially directed at Yui, what with the way she turned her head towards the girl's general direction.

Despite his age, Lísu remained a sobbing, crying mess, tears and snot running down his face with no regard for his public appearance or reputation. Slowly, he lessened the volume of his wailing, using the bottom edge of Miki's jacket to wipe his eyes first and then his nose. "Mama... Mama's voice... told me to say that..." He cried, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, fighting another surge of tears. "Mama's voice made me s-s-say that... I didn't want to scare anyone! I didn't want to say it but I had to do! Mama's voice made me do it!"

The nurse, a short petite woman with cropped black hair, held onto her white cap and nodded to Noel. "Whatever you do, let the boy breathe!" She said, haphazardly grabbing a leather bag filled with instruments and following the teacher outside. "Let the boy breathe, ya hear me! These freakouts, they need to breathe!"

Once N'Jadaka finished buttoning up Wolnee's uniform, the Fusilier grabbed his General's hand tenderly, his other hand rushing for the man's neck so he could pull him closer, as close as possible, until their foreheads were touching each other. Wolnee looked N'Jadaka right in the eyes, and the General would see the sky's deep purple staring right back at him.

Though the young Fusilier's mouth moved, no words came out of it... at least for Meiddus. "What the hell is going on?!" The once braggadocios man whined, throwing his hands up in the air in despair, torn between watching the situation or trying to tear his friend apart from their General. "Wolnee, what the hell are you doing?!" Wolnee's mouth continued to move, and Meiddus took a deep breath, brushing the General's hand from his shoulder and moving to grab his friend by his shirt. "Listen-"

Wolnee's hand, the one that had been caressing N'Jadaka's own fingers, grabbed Meiddus by the front of his face, fingers clutching each side of his head as if it was nothing more than a fruit ready to be picked from a tree. It was then, and only then, that Wolnee's mouth stopped moving, his entire body quivering forward as the purple disappeared from his eyes with a blink, the Fusilier drifting into unconsciousness and against N'Jadaka's standing form.

edited 30th Apr '18 5:18:35 PM by Stratofarius