Sin Kiske, Eastern Gate

After a moment of uselessly searching, Sin regained his bearings and remembered what his mother's voice had told him.

He returned his attention to the people around him and approached Laura in particular as she was getting a grasp of the situation herself.

"A moment of your time, boss?"

If she followed him as he walked a few paces away from the leaving Naturalists (after she got a response from Cloudcrest, of course), he'd whisper some important details to her.

"That guy... I think he was talking about you. He told me... 'your friend's mentor may have died, but she'll pay the price, along with all the others'. He capped it off with this; 'the unmarked will begin their reaping'. And..."

He swallowed his last statement, deciding at the last second that he'd rather not delve into that.

"You're one of the original warriors, right? Any idea what it could mean?"

Noel Vermillion, Wayne School Courtyard

Watching poor Lísu cry his heart out took a toll on Noel. She'd done what she could, but couldn't do anymore that Anna wasn't already taking care of. Thankfully, Miki sidling up to her and her subdued, sad smile did reassure her.

She shook her head gently at Miki's query, her azure eyes contemplating her navel.

"No... I don't think I have. But before that, he said mentioned a 'creator'. M-Maybe one of the original warriors would know?"

Anna's advice was met with a nod, and with that, she turned to Miki.

"He lives in the Northern Quadrant, right? Which of us should get his parents?"

Vigil Kiske, Santa Barbara Park

Vigil almost loses his balance as Frankie slaps him in the elbow, playing up the happy reassurance in his voice in a nervous attempt to stave off his mother's concerns. Sadly, the damage was already done. Whenever Vigil picked a fight, something was going to go down, be it soon or in the future. As Toph glared down at him and threatened him (how many high-and-mighty, shit-for-brains adults did he have the displeasure of doing that to him?), Vigil glared her right back in the eye and didn't allow himself to flinch.

Yui explained the situation, and much to his surprise, Vigil saw actual motherly concern creep onto Toph's face. Seeing this, he stopped himself from tensing up any more.

Stepping back to leave, he opened his arms in open invitation, exposing his body to Toph and grinned ever so slightly to match Toph's challenge, even though his brow still scrunched and his glare was still fierce.

"I'll keep that in mind for the future. Always did want to fight an original warrior."

Finished with flailing his ego, Vigil put his hands in his pockets and followed Yui and Frankie back to school.

Eastern Gates, Laura

Well... that's disconcerting. If that man is a mutant, he certainly has more powers then most get, and if he isn't, well, guess that doesn't change much in the end doesn't it? Still, he assaulted one of her teammates and as such made himself a threat that needs to be dealt with.

"Whoever that was said that he got his cloak from your brother. Do you know where I can find him, or his place of business?" she asked Cloudcrest. It's not much of a lead, but it's the only one she has right now.

After she gets her response, she follows Sin away from the others and listens to what the mystery man whispered to him.

... So the plot thickens. The mentor part was most likely referring to the deceased Logan. Still a bit of a sore spot for her, but saves face for now. But 'she'll pay the price, along with all the others', pay the price for what exactly? And that last part...

'The unmarked will begin their reaping'. Was that a threat, or a warning?

"I can't say I've heard those sentences specifically before. Although...", she trails off, trying to figure out what this could mean. She decides not to push Sin for what else he said, feeling that if it was important, he'd tell her.

"First things first, we should send word to the rest of quadrant, and try to find him before he does something like this again." Might also help to see if something like this has happened before on their records.

edited 23rd May '18 11:58:17 PM by goldenshark

Mayor's Office

"I see..." The stamp hung for what seemed like weeks, and then came down resoundingly on the last paper. "I was just wondering whether she'd managed to intercept that bard fellow like I asked her to. Well, I suppose I'll see for myself soon enough."

The papers were gathered up in a reasonable approximation of the order they'd been handed off in, and seemed to hover up for Shion to take. "And here you are, Shion. Give my regards to your sister for me! I don't mean to rush your tea-drinking, though. Please, savor it as long as you'd like to!"

Balder Capitol Building

"Well now, I can't say I'm opposed to you feeling like you belong somewhere, but how do I put this..." The crone gave the bird-man a sidelong glance as they neared the top of the stairs. "The way you put it, you almost sound like one of those hero-worshippers. The ones who go around extolling that the so-called 'Original Heroes' can do no wrong and so forth. It's rather cult-like, really. Let me tell you this now, Qilli: The Original Heroes are not something worthy of being worshiped. I imagine the Mayor might be rather... uncomfortable if she had the impression that you thought otherwise."

Cauldron Pent House: Welcome to Trump Wake Tower!

Mr. Scratch smiled back at the formal name; the Turian just rolled its eyes and turned to leave.

"Hope you can forgive my associate." Wake gestured to the creature already tapping the elevator button to leave. "Lucius Strascus is a grumpy lizard, but he's invaluable in some of my work."

Scratch waved goodbye as the elevator doors closed. The last glimpse of Lucius Strascus was the Turian crunching into the blue nerve while using his free hand to raise a single extra-long finger to his boss. The middle one.

"C'mon up!" Scratch beckoned. The smile and tone of his voice seemed just a few tones calmer than a child getting permission to have a sleepover with his best friend. "We can chat over drinks!"

The jet black spiral staircase leading to the second floor's balcony clanged underneath Vizsla's feet. Strong, metal-like bone marrow—a resource that could've been put to better use as a plow or a hoe or even the edge of a blade—and Scratch wasted the valuable "ore" on something to scrape your shoes on. The rich know nothing of value.

Of course, the decadent display didn't end with the stairs. At the top, the Mandalorian would come to face even more furniture (and furnishings) dressed in that iconic pitch black sheen: the railings, the drink stand, even one of the damn lamps was lined with the stuff.

"Have a seat."

Scratch gestured to one of the large, heavily-cushioned lounge chairs on each side of a large circular window (three guesses what decoratively fused the panes) overlooking the city center. As the leader of Death Watch took his chair or further explored the space a little more, his host prepared the two glasses of Gragas "Vintage" Brew.

If he cared to spend a few moments scanning the pent house, Vizsla would notice that his old friend's living space covered the entire thirty-six thousand square feet of Cauldron's pinnacle. Two floors, both boarded with what seemed like deep blue wood, but carpeted with lighter red on the main staircase and leading to the lone desk with a typewriter that must've been Scratch's work area.

A spacious king size bed and cabinets stood out on the second floor even more than the workspace, elevated a few steps higher than the rest of the space like a shrine. Bookshelves lined the first floor almost as much as the wallpaper did, though it looked like Mr. Wake's library hadn't expanded far past his office area yet. Hunting trophies and knick-knacks spotted the empty shelves, but the writer clearly had an ambitious goal of collecting enough books to fill the pent house.

On the balcony itself, the only noteworthy objects Vizsla would spot were placed pristine on the drink table by his chair: a golden watch chain snaked around an open note.

I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at your watch a hundred times a day now!

Your Dell,

Mr. H

"That's a uhh, a running joke between me and my business partner." Scratch explained as he handed Vizsla his glass. "The note's a 'Gift of the Magi' reference, because Marty's...shit, you don't have that story where you're from...well, it's not important. He's also being poking fun at how I like to take my time!"

The host laughed, eased into his chair, and smiled.

"Damn, you're absolutely right: it's been forever since I saw you, Viz!" he chuckled. "And no worries about the weapons, they're no problem in here. Just don't get any funny ideas like you did with that worm-monster, okay?"

Scratch laughed again, happy that he could now laugh at the memory of Vizsla tossing him into a monster's mouth like the multiverse's chewiest piece of beef jerky. It had been an...improvised strategy.

Capitol Building Reception: Where's A Sheikah Tower When You Need One?

Link's face lost its red flush as "Lone Willow" took over for her counterpart, but it took the mention of dispatches to break the young man's determined stare.

"She's not even..."

He stared wide-eyed at the receptionist, half in disbelief, half to try and see if the chipper woman was telling the truth. He found the latter, which crushed his hopes of speaking to Commander Kiryuin face to face.

Could he give Willow the message? No, of course not. That would be worse than trusting Hylia's words to Mr. Dreemurr. The receptionist might humor him while he's got a hand on her desk, but there was no promise Willow (and no chance Kotok) would relay the message with any context or explanation.

This trip was a dead end.

"Nevermind." Link mumbled as he stepped away from the desk.

"...thank you—both of you—for listening."

So burying his sullen feelings as deep down as he could, Link turned towards the building's entrance.

edited 24th May '18 4:21:38 PM by TheodoreHastings

Yusuke rubbed his chin, his expression taking a thoughtful expression as he mumbled to himself.

"So it is as I thought. The narrative exactly as I described, at yet..."

He let out a sigh. He was hoping to avoid this development. Joker always was better at talking down the demons, which was quite ironic all things considered. Well, it seemed the way forward had narrowed to a single path, how unfortunate. But if that was the case, the sword wielding artist would not back down.

"Be silent!"

His voice was deep, commanding like the samurai of old. His eyes narrowed at the theif, nothing of the affection that shined in as he called him his new muse shined now.

"Poor me, poor me. I've had to listen to these putid excuses again and again as I delved into the darkest hearts of men. Everyone a victim. The path of villians and heroes alike are marred with tragedy and sorrow."

His mind briefly brought him back to a land far from here, as it often did. He thought of those pathetic excuse for humans, their shadows crying as they laid out their own insecurities and hard ships as if it excused them from their horrid action. He thought of friends, each and every one an outcast, treated unjustly just like this thief before him. But they were not the same.

"The difference is that villains use what has been done to them as a mask, hiding behind it as they avoid responsibility for their own actions! Heroes embrace it, overcoming such hardship and bettering themselves as a result!

You say you can't get a job? That you look like a freak? Had I not sought you for a muse for my art not a moment before? I would have offered you my aid. Had you asked for food I would have given it, had you asked for shelter I would have given it, had you asked for the moon and stars I would have given it were it mine to give. But this bit of coin is not mine, so I can not give it. Nor is it yours, so you can not claim it."

What a disappointment. Thinking only of himself, willing to hurt others solely for his own well being. He is nothing but a common thug. He was useless as muse now. There was no beautiful soul beneath surface, what he saw an illusion of his own making. Nay, what laid beneath the scarred skin was something far more repulsive. If this was the path the thief chose, so be it, he was ready for him.

edited 25th May '18 1:54:37 PM by ImmortalNeet

Laeta Owari - Eastern Gates

With another roll of her eyes, Laeta gripped the pincer with her free hand and pulled her other hand out of it. The squelching of the insect's meaty innards, paired with her blood-coated digits, made for a rather nauseating display. Not helped when, seconds later, she ran her hand through her hair, staining the white locks into a pulpy pink.

"Are we gonna putz 'round here til we all get purple eye, or are we actually gonna fuckin' move?" She called out, utterly disinterested in both the mysterious Faire-coated man, and in the whispers that ran between the two remaining Fusiliers. Or, at least, she appeared to be. Her arm once more came to encapsulate Cloudcrest's neck, her voice tickling their ear as she pulled the thinner body in the direction of the city. "Our records ain't gonna check themselves, and neither is Fourblossom."

Akane Owari - Landing Field

Akane shrugged and followed Griffy halfway into the ship, aimlessly casting her eye around the interior while she waited for the engineer to return. "Ain't my job to know what it is, where it is, or what people do with it." Most certainly an untrue statement, though let it be said that whatever paperwork tied her to the ship wasn't likely to have 'purveyor of the logbook' noted anywhere in its clauses.

With said logbook in hand, Akane could've just left the ship. Instead, she kept close to Griffy, an impish smile curling up her lips. "You almost sound jealous." The hand holding the logbook was flung around Griffy's shoulders, the other one giving her a poke on the cheek. "If ya spent some more time palling with us, rather than the ship, then maybe you'd get ta tag along. Let the boss know in person how badly I'd botch her job~"

Guzma - Northern Quadrant Ranch

Moving from the window to the kitchen, Guzma yanked open a drawer and rummaged through the eclectic contents until he'd procured a long, thin skewer- that he then rapped against the counter, inches from where Anansi was salivating over the box of Grubbs. "You eat 'em, you buy them. Insulation for the winter isn't gonna drop in our lap."

Returning to Vikavolt's side, he began the process of jamming the skewer through one of the Wegs - a rather awkward affair when he only had six and a half fingers to work with. "Ain't it just a crazy coincidence that we both happen to be going down the same path." he continued, voice thick with sarcasm. "That you need to head over and 'buy' some more Wegs."

For all that he was being dismissive, he'd actually been paying attention to her words. It hadn't gone by him that her current batch had been caught, not bought, and there weren't any issues preventing her from catching more. As per usual, he was equal parts irritated and flummoxed that she was so dedicated to latching on to him at every convenience.

The skewer finally pierced through the flesh and out the other side. He lifted it up and away, allowing Vikavolt to munch down on the remaining Weg. "If you're really so hellbent on hefting that down for me then I ain't gonna say no. Last thing I need is to do my back in." He chewed off one of the Weg legs, ignoring how the roasted skin scalded his mouth. He let a few seconds pass as he swallowed the meat, then he looked back at Anansi, his overt grumpiness being replaced for a moment with... well, as close to neutral as Guzma could get. "Shouldn't be long til Laeta and her mom get here though. You'd rather not wait for them?"

Edited by whizzerd on Oct 25th 2018 at 1:11:09 PM

Jeng B. Ish, Esquire: The Galaxy's Greatest Detective

The vox-handset was a tiny, fragile little thing, and the servo-tendons of his gauntlet whined softly as he took it between finger and thumb. The boy Nier had turned his gaze away in the ceremonial respect of a man not wanting to appear too curious - he was busy scrutinising the carpets and cultivating an air of enforced deafness, which was to say observing age-old military tradition. Nobody liked a chatty voxman.

He flicked the cast switch, and the set thrummed into life.

"Sunray to Sunray Minor."

"Sunray Minor Actual, reading clear," came the reply, and Jengbish suppressed a smile. Brother-Captain Ghale sounded as enthusiastic as ever, like a servitor wading up to the waist through groxshite. As far as the background let on, he'd caught him halfway through skinning something.

"Good. There's been a breach, Ghale. Some kind of ideohazard, smells like a cult. We don't know how deep this runs. The Commander's going to have me up here for a while. I need you to run a keyphrase while I'm gone."

Whatever Ghale was doing, he'd just stopped. There was some kind of mad scrabble for a quill, but the creaky monotone didn't shift an inch. On a fundamental level, the man just didn't care much about words.

"Fire away."

"The unmarked grave ends the reaping. Take it up with the Castellan, no-one else. Not yet. Happy hunting, brother."

"Happy hunting. Enjoy the meetings."

Jengbish snorted, and replaced the handset on its cradle. Nier was still fascinated by the upholstery and Magda was still reading, brow furrowed deep, but snapped to attention as soon as she heard her name.

"Licht, we need to secure our assets. Be discrete. Find out what they know, and make sure they're still ours." He glanced at Satsuki for approval, and received a curt nod. "Until you're contacted, assume we're under Hereticus protocol. You know who to start with."

Licht considered this for a moment, before pressing a fist over her heart in salute. She unslung the long rifle from her shoulder on the way past, pressing it into Nier's hands, and Jengbish put a hand on the boy's shoulder as they watched her skulk out.

"That captain of yours put you knee-deep in the shit, boy. This goes higher than you're supposed to be able to see, and I don't have time to send for someone better-qualified; can't have you running around out there loose, either, not for now. That means you're about to hear a lot of things we need you not to. Can I count on you to keep a level head?

________

Magda Licht - Supreme Court

The inner districts smelt of piss. Not overtly so, not everywhere, but it was always crawling at the edge of the breeze, and every so often you'd round the corner to main street and take it up both nostrils.

It had the makings of a powerful metaphor, but the truth was more mundane. In the Balder's early days, civil engineers had an unfortunate habit of being eaten. Plumbing was a relatively new consideration, and by the time they got to laying sewers most of the city had already been built. Most of the pipes dumped into an underground lake, and sometimes those twisting caves developed stagnant pools and sent everything wafting back up.

In any case, there was any point to take away, it was this; the steps up to the Supreme Court smelt like they'd been sprayed down this morning.

Magda withdrew her badge from her inside pocket, and brushed against the handle of her pistol. Hereticus protocol was a strategy stolen from a life centuries in the Bloodfather's past, the working methodology for finding secret rot on far-flung colony worlds. The working order was simple. First you started with the secondary ranks of the local military, only approaching supreme command when you'd cleared their organisation of involvement. With their enlistment, you went to the lawmen the merchants, and then to the owners of the factories other large employers.

The core government, the aristocracies and ruling classes, they were saved for last, when there was enough force behind you to make whatever moves were necessary. If the smallfolk could be proven exempt, it meant they were the source; if not, it meant they were complicit, by ignorance or otherwise. Jengbish had mentioned to her once that the Ordo Hereticus were also called the Witchhunters, and that they'd have tried to have them executed to man. Then he'd laughed.

Inside was a long and winding path to Murdock's office, but she knew the way, and nobody wanted to stop a fusilier on business so clearly official. The secretary looked at her disapprovingly as she entered the office, exactly as she knew she would, so Magda looked disapprovingly back and proffered her badge like a holy ward. She'd tied the fine chain holding her lodge coin around her wrist like a bracelet - it was jurisdictionally meaningless, but against bureaucracy this thick she needed the force multiplier.

"I have direct orders from General Jengbish to speak to Mr. Murdock. I would like to see him immediately, please."

edited 26th May '18 1:18:45 PM by OG-Sama

Shion - Mayor's Office

As Cassiopeia moved to stamp her seal on the final document, Shion quickly gulped down the remainder of her tea, wincing only slightly.

"No, no. It's alright," said Shion, snapping up the hovering papers. "I'll tell Jo'on you said hi."

She scanned the forms quickly, double-checking to see that they all bore the mayoral stamp. When she was satisfied that that was indeed the case, she quickly got up and left the room with a mumbled farewell.

At the same time as Shion made her exit, Jo'on was happily anticipating her next meal. She'd told her attendants to go prepare something upstairs, and she expected it to be done in only a few minutes. Her office was only one floor beneath the suite she shared with her sister, so she'd hear them coming down the stairs the moment they finished.

"I'm back," said a voice from her right.

Turning around, she saw Shion appear in a burst of flames next to the little altar by the wall.

"The mayor says hi, and she gave us the go-ahead."

"Ugh, I hate you sis," said Jo'on. "I was going to have a nice breakfast, but now I have to go attend to construction instead. Thanks a lot."

She looked into her sister's weary eyes for a moment, then got up to leave.

"Help yourself when they come down with the food, I'll see you later," she flashed her a quick smile to let her know she wasn't actually angry.

Qilli would have looked offended, if not for the fact that he felt, somewhere deep within his bones, that this was no mere old woman. "I don't worship the people, I worship history, its facts, and the story they tell when put together. That the heroes a-are the vessels of history is nothing more than happenstance!"

He clutched his bag, taking one careful step away from the crone. "Just... forgive me for asking, b-but who are you, ma'am?"

Down at the entrance, a hooded figure would push their way past Link just as the young Hylian turned towards the building's entrance. Not much taller than one of the five Champions, the figure still walked with the confidence that he had been exhibiting until moments ago, matching a pompous stance befitting someone who thought they were about to change the world.

Slender, pale hands snaked out of the robe, revealing a female frame beneath the loose black garb. "I don't know what is going on in this damn world." The woman slithered, her eyes hidden in the darkness of her hood. "And I don't care to find out. I just woke up here with nothing but a message in my head for whoever's in there-" She pointed at the rest of the building. "-so take me to your leader RIGHT NOW!" She roared, trying to reach over and shake the nearest receptionist.

The commotion was loud enough and gaudy enough to possibly attract the attention of a cultist, who'd find herself arriving at the capitol at what some would consider an opportune moment.

His hands still shaking, the thief only watched, astonished, as Yusuke lay into him. Did he think this was going to change his mind? If anything, the thief was hoping that his own little speech would have been enough to appease the rich insane man. The sounds of an angry shopkeeper and at least one Fusilier were growing closer and closer. It wouldn't be long before they got there, and then he'd have to deal with those jerks—

The thief blinked, and his smile brightened with a mere glance. "You want art? You want a muse?" His hand steadied, he took a deep breath and straightened his back. "I'll give you some art. Real, live art. Watch this-" And with that, the thief spun his knife around and plunged it into the side of his body, yelling in pain as he kept pushing it further and further before pulling it out, vile, red liquid spraying out of the hole in his shirt.

Using both of his hands, the thief flicked the knife through the air until it landed not too far from Yusuke's feet, the blade pointing towards the thief, who was now busying himself by throwing his own body against the wall several times, yelping in pain with ever blow, before doubling over, hand still covering his wound, blood seeping through his fingers and onto the dirty ground.

"Stop right there!" The young Fusilier officer exclaimed, easily stepping in front of the already out-of-breath shopkeeper, hand already hovering over her scabbard. "Hand back the stolen coins and you will— oh GOD!" She shrieked, taking a step back as the aloof shopkeeper looked up and gasped. "Oh God, what did... what did you do?!" She said, looking from the thief's unmoving body to Yusuke.

"My brother? He's—" Cloudcrest was about to respond, until Laeta's nudging reminded them that they didn't owe any kind of answer to the Fusiliers. "I don't owe an answer to any of you!" They repeated, as if asserting their own legal protection out loud. "And neither do any of my brethren!" They added, motioning to their followers, who promptly nodded along with Cloudcrest.

Following Laeta with ease (and with clear disgust at the look of her hair), Cloudcrest frowned and pinched the bridge of their nose, sighing. "Oh gods, I don't know what that was, but Fourblossom, he's... he's gonna want to know. He always worries about me, the nice brother that he is, and... and he promised that he would pay you, didn't he?" Cloudcrest's frown turned into a pleading glance. "P-please, keep this a secret?"

Loki would have looked offended at the undelivered kiss, if he had nothing something else to direct his attention towards. "Stands, hm?" He leaned back to stare up at the Hand, rubbing his chin confidently. "My, oh my. Every time I think I've seen everything this world has to offer, it throws another surprise my way."

Sitting up on his bed, Loki twiddled his thumbs before putting on two golden slippers. "But I think we've wasted enough time here. Would you like to follow me? I need to talk to your superior. The one with the big shoulders? I have a proposition for him, and I feel as if you could benefit from that. Unless..." He tapped one finger against his chin, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me. Do you enjoy your life in Balder?"

Griffy tried to slap Akane's finger away, but even she was no match to that mountain of muscles. "Are you trying to shower me with innuendo, Owari? I'll have you know-" She slapped her fingers away again, groaning. "-thatifIdonttakecareofthisshipnobodywill!" She finished in a hurry, trying to scurry back to her safe little hatch. "If it wasn't for me, this ship wouldn't work. I'm basically the only thing keeping it running until we get a new ship, which, knowing our Mayor, will probably be never."

"As for your ASSUMPTION regarding any signs of JEALOUSY," She emphasized, playing up every other word as she waved a wrench in Akane's direction. "I'm not jealous of you. The Captain is a very capable woman. If I wanted to spend more time with her, I would wow her with a display of my skills, not by pretending that I can punch anything I see, because we both know, Owari, that your feats of strength are nothing more than an one-woman play you're putting on for one person except that person doesn't want to see your play so YOU'RE JUST BEING DUMB!" She said, getting progressively faster and faster (as well as redder and redder).

"Did you just threaten me?" Toph snickered, remaining completely still, not even bothering to move her head so as to give Virgil a sign that she was talking to him. "You know I can beat you without raising a hand, Kiskid! Don't forget that!" She hissed, tilting her feet just a little so as to jut out a small piece of the ground in front of Virgil, aiming to make him trip, or at least give her an opening to laugh her ass off.

Corporal Andressa shot the newcomer Nier an inquisitive stare, one that captured him from head to toe, probably trying to figure out where he had sprouted from. General Jengbish was scary like that, almost like his sweat was made of nightmares and he sneezed scary soldiers to join his forces.

"Happy hunting?" She mouthed, turning around once she realized that Nier could see her thinking out loud. "I'm sorry, what's ideohazard? Hereticus?" She said, motioning towards her desk. "I didn't see any of those words mentioned in the guidebook..." Noticing that she had just questioned a higher up, she promptly swiveled towards Satsuki and added a curtly "ma'am".

edited 31st May '18 3:43:44 PM by Stratofarius

Art he says. It certainly grabbed Yusuke attention. He watched curiously as he waited to see what the thief had in mind. His eyes widen as the thief suddenly plunged his dagger into his own side as if trying to recreate a Shakespearean tragedy. Something in the artist screamed for action, to put a stop to this display. But perhaps out of shock, or even a morbid curiosity of where the thief was going with this performance, Yusuke remained frozen as all happened before him. By the end of it the thief keeled over, leaving the artist alone to ponder on what he had just witnessed to.

"...it is certainly provocative. I feel like you were going for intense of self loathing coupled with the self destruction this life leads. Very intense. While I feel overt is the goal over subtly, it does run the risk of scenery chewing. I don't see it being viable for repeat performances...."

Yusuke cupped his chin as continued to critique the theif's art. There was something he was not seeing in the performance, something paramount that completed the performance as a whole. What was it? His passions did run toward more static media. While he could apreciate fuidity of a live performance, he did feel more kinship with set desighners then actors. Was that it, a lack of proper props to sell the performance? How troublesome. It was then that he noticed the young officer. He followed her gaze to the dagger on the floor then to him. Ah. It was like a final puzzle peice clicking into place to reveal the whole picture.

"Now I get it. Intent on playing the victim to very end I see."

He stared directly at the frusiler, putting up a single finger as if saying wait one moment. He then pointed to the weapon on his hip.

"Sword. If I were to brutalize this young theif, I have a sword right here in my belt. What reason do I have to switch to a far inferior weapon and place my self in harms way when I have a more elegant weapon at my disposal.

Second, you will notice for all the carnage, there is no blood on my hands. Nay, not a single strand of hair misplaced to suggest a struggle. If i was the one who stabbed the thief with such a short blade, you would have literally caught me red handed. As you can see that is not the case.

In fact were you to put in the proper investigative work, you will notice all sorts of evidence that detract from the preconception you currently hold. My prints are not on the murder weapon. A lack of bruising and blood splatter that would suggest no confrontation took place between he and I. So unless he sat there and decided to let me stab his side and repeatedly beat him against a wall without even the slightest hint of defending himself, its not very likely the two of us had any fight. There is also character circumstance to consider. I have neither a motivation nor is such brutality my style."

He said the last bit with a slight sneer. If the thief was planing to frame him, couldn't he of at least done it with some grace? He was a skilled swordsman, not some brute thug. Did he think he was Ryuji? Being wrongly accused was one thing, but this was just disgraceful to assume that this work was his.

"Regardless of what you think, I believe this thief is in need of help...in more ways then one. So if nothing else, can we agree to get this fool proper care. I believe I can stop the bleeding by freezing it, and perhaps bind him to keep him from hurting himself or others any further."

edited 1st Jun '18 2:41:54 PM by ImmortalNeet

Balder Capitol Reception

Lonely Willow had sighed softly as the wind seemed to go out of Link’s sails. “Alright, dear… if you change your mind, ask for Lonely Willow, yeah?”

Kotok, meanwhile, had gone back to his paperwork with just the smallest hint of a sigh… until the next commotion made itself known, prompting the beleaguered Vulcan to pinch he bridge of his nose as the black-robed woman started shouting and grabbing his colleague.

Willow blinked as the woman in black took her shoulders and started to shake her, the receptionist simply letting herself bend with the motion. “N-now hold on just a moment, sugar, why- why don’t you just calm down and take it from the beginning?”

As she spoke, tendrils of her verdant green hair had started to insinuate themselves under the new arrival’s palms and were gently, but firmly, prying her hands free. The various potted plants and cuttings adorning her desk were also slowly twisting and leaning towards the woman in black. Willow, meanwhile, was flapping her hands at her waist, waving back the many fusiliers who had simultaneously drawn swords, dropped hands to sidearms, or raised their stand-issue kalash-pattern rifles. Mutters and whispers filled the reception hall, ‘who’s this nutter?’ ‘… careful, arrival shock…’ ‘can’t get a clear look…’

edited 2nd Jun '18 9:34:27 PM by LittleMako

Matt Murdock, Judge's Office - Inner District, Supreme Court

There isn't much to rib Agnes about anymore. Not after what happened with Wake. I stew in silence, scanning the latest case files with tight fingers and tighter lips - another alien homicide, two cult killings, five petty thefts, and one alleged catnapping. Fantastic.

I sigh and slump, letting the tension out of the sides of my mouth.

"Ms. Tristram, please tell me why the cat burglar we saw last Wednesday is being called back up to trial."

For ten seconds, Agnes pounds at her side of the desk without answering, sitting tall and straight in the midst of the slapstick dance of typebar and platen. Her fingers smack the plastic keys with rarefied disdain, a kind which I can't really blame her for having. She came from a world far more advanced than this, where man and machine are practically one. She probably hates the feel of anything that isn't metal or hard light.

The bell goes off, and the carriage smacks into the side with a sweep of her hand. She stills her fingers, then looks at me.

"Apparently, Your Honor, he stole the cat again."

She folds her hands primly and swallows, as if to ask why I'm not smiling, or why I used her last name without being prompted - but she doesn't, and in a second the fingers are back on the keys. She's always had good sense. It's damnably hard to get the nod from a blind man, and I don't intend to give her any hints.

"The same cat," I say, scanning the relevant paragraph for confirmation. "And he ate it this time. Minced, with a dash of pepper."

"The owners were very distraught," says Agnes, voice as tepid as dry ice. "Are you going to drink the tea I made you?"

"I'm sorry," I say, "but the poor cat has got my insides in a knot."

"Your Honor, I have known you for about four years, and despite your flaws, I can honestly inform you that I have never seen anyone with stronger insides."

"Well, neither have I," I grin, waving my hand in front of my eyes. "At least, not since I was twelve."

She bites back what was clearly a retort, but some of the tension goes out of her throat and shoulders. Good. As long as I'm smiling, right?

"Do you ever take anything seriously, Your Honor?"

"Agnes, please. I'm as serious as I should be. Besides, isn't that why I keep you around? There has to be at least one lightning rod in this building."

"I'm unfamiliar with the term," says Agnes. "Where I'm from, we switch the lightning off."

"Stiff, tall, steel-spined, draws a lot of heat? Or, well, draws lightning, which I guess you could construe as heat?"

"And how exactly does my being here improve your mental state?"

Without turning my head, I point to the door - or rather, the person who entered the building five minutes and twenty-nine seconds ago. Agnes starts and stares.

"Excuse me, but you need an appointment..."

The girl sticks her arm straight out. She's ganglier than she should be, what with her height, but she holds herself with the confidence of a long-limbed fighter. I can't really identify what she's holding with my radar sense, but from the way she's standing, it seems like a badge. She smells of the Warrior Lodge, all firewood and horse dung and gun oil. Something about her seems familiar, but...

"I have direct orders from General Jengbish to speak to Mr. Murdock. I would like to see him immediately, please."

Ah.

"Excuse me," says Agnes, "but General Jengbish's military jurisdiction does not apply to the Supreme Cour-"

I wave my hand. Agnes stares at me, throat working up and down, then stiffens up and goes back to her haughty pounding. I apologize with a shrug to the young and vaguely defiant messenger.

"You're looking at him. Magda, isn't it? The last time I saw you, you didn't jut out half as much. And if I'm not wrong, you were always with the General. What does he have for me this time?"

Franklin Yishan Murdock; Santa Barbara Park

"Ma, don't-"

I put my foot down and before I know it, I'm asking the ground to stay, flattening the spur of earth with a nervous plea. My chi buzzes and flits against Ma's, like a fly on the paw of a lion - but she's not serious, and I am, or at least I think I am, and so the ground doesn't shift and Vigil doesn't fall over.

"Don't trip my friends?"

This is hard. Really hard. Maybe if I practiced more it wouldn't be this hard. I think my legs are shaking.

"Please?"

edited 3rd Jun '18 8:10:07 AM by troydenite

There was always a degree of surprise at just how different the city was when you were looking at it from the center. It was very different from how it was from the outskirts of the north. People were different too. The pace was bustling, but it never felt like there was direction to the hustle. It was like a swarm of flies flittering about without direction. It was almost pitiable. Xola did have direction though. She did not turn her head at the myriad of distractions that littered the side of the roads in the heart of Blader. Her heels clacked on the pavement as she made her way up the steps to the capitol building.

She was greeted by an interesting sight. A hooded woman had grabbed and was shaking one of the tellers and demanding to see their leader. It was a pretty interesting way to introduce yourself to the city when you're new. The woman stood back to watch the confrontation unfold. It might unfortunately make her meeting harder to get, but interfering would only make matters worse.

Lonely Willow's insistence at calming the woman down did little to actually soothe her worries. "Are you dumb? Are you?! Is that just a thing with everyone in this godforsaken planet?!" Feeling something trying to pry her hands off, the woman let go of the receptionist's shoulders, pulling back her hood to reveal the top of her face, with tens of sharp, yellow eyes looking down at Willow.◊

"I woke up in this dead rock four days ago. Except I woke up in the middle of a forest trying to kill me." The woman hissed through gritted teeth, half of her eyes glancing sideways as she added "though it wasn't my first rodeo with a killer forest" before fully focusing on Willow once more. "I had nothing but a cryptic warning in my head, left there by who knows what, directing me towards this hellhole of a city. I haven't had a decent shower in almost a week now. I've forgotten the taste of fast food, which should not happen to anyone."

The woman placed her hands on the desk, and from the folds of the robe, another pair of similar arms sprouted forth, doing the same movements for emphasis. "I need to get back home, and I'm guessing the only way for me to do that is if I deliver this bullshit warning and wake up back in a place with air conditioning. Did you get all that, or do I have to-" And at this, she mocked Willow's accent, using another pair of arms to do simultaneous 'cuckoo' motions near her head. "-take it from the beginning?"

Though only seen by Yusuke, the thief's eyes widened as the artist laid bare every flaw with his plan. The female Fusilier lowered her hand, listening to every detail, her brow furrowing as the plot unfurled in front of her very eyes. "I see." She muttered, taking a careful step towards the 'blood' that the thief had sprayed around. "And so this man injured himself in order to frame you? Considering what I've been hearing about him—"

"He's a thief, and I'm glad he's dead!" The shopkeeper bellowed, pushing his way past the Fusilier, leaving her to glare a hole into his back. "Now I don't know who you are, but clearly you played some part in the thief's self-defeat... so I suppose I could certainly pay you a small amount of coins in exchange for the bag that this cretin stole from me?!" Despite the rage tinting his words, the shopkeeper did his best to rub his hands and look as sheepish and as non-confrontational as possible.

Clearing her throat, the Fusilier pushed the shopkeeper back. "Excuse me, sir, but for all we know, this may be part of the plan as well." She said, waving her hand towards Yusuke. "Apologies, citizen, but I can't just disregard my training because of your word. And while you think character is a good argument for your innocence, you have to remember that I don't actually know you." Her hand rested atop her scabbard once more. "So could you please raise your hands and back off whilst I check on his injuries?"

Toph's disappointment at not hearing Siskid trip and bonk his head on the ground was immediately superseded at her shock from feeling another person earthbending. She dropped to one knee silently, her mouth hanging open just a little bit, enough for her to notice it and then wipe the surprise off her face. "You just bended." She said, hands resting on the ground. "I never thought..."

... that she'd get to see Yishan bending again? Not really. Toph swallowed the rest of the sentence, as the memories overpowered the sound of his legs shaking: Shades pleading with her, telling her not to bring up earthbending again, pointing out how much it was injuring Yishan... yet here he was. Bending. "Do it again." She muttered, the ghost of a smile creeping onto her lips, threatening to reveal her true feelings. "Do it again, for me." She said, raising her volume, before twisting one of her hands.

The ground shivered as Toph sent out a single order, one simple enough for Yishan to notice: another small rock pillar sprouting out from right behind Yui, intent on giving her the necessary flick to knock her down.

Satsuki’s office

Like any military organisation, no matter how poised and prepared they were, the Fusiliers took time to begin an undertaking. However, as the growing bustle of activity in her office attested to, once the great military machine built up a head of steam, its gears and cogs would spin with increasing efficiency. Reports were streaming in over radio and telegram, instances of unknown or “possessed” individuals were being encountered at the east gate, the west gate, throughout the city.

For now, however, Satsuki did not want to set this great machine loose just yet.

“Koch.” Her wire-man looked up as she approached. “Contact quadrant H Qs – individually, no mass broadcasts until I give the order. The ‘Reaping’ keyphrase now has top priority. All reserves are to be brought to a state of readiness. Stand by for further orders.”

Next, she turned to one of her own vox-men. “Contact General N’jadaka and General Tsunemori’s personal retinues on secure channels. I want them both to report to Central as soon as possible.”

Jengbish was sending his own orders out over the airwaves, moving his own pieces into position. He looked to her for approval, and she gave it with another nod. She had read the precepts of the so-called Hereticus protocol – from one of the bloodftaher’s personal tomes, no less. They struck her as decidedly paranoid, but in times like these a degree of paranoia was necessary. Jengbish knew her limits on such measures, and thus also Corporal Licht. Perhaps the mobilisation of the Fusiliers would smoke out some pigeons for Jengbish’s hawk to snatch.

With a break in the flow of command, she stood at the head of her outer office, watching her staff work. For now, this was the nerve center of her response to this breach, but eventually things would grow beyond the capacity of just her staff to process. A gesture brought some of her men closer, and a few words sent them running off again. Within fifteen minutes, fusiliers would be quietly moving to man auxiliary command centers throughout the military wing of the capitol building, bringing more banks of telegram stations and data terminals online, ready to handle the flow of information and instruction that would inevitably follow.

That done, she turned to reply to Andressa. “Seditious ideas, corporal, spread by mundane or supernatural means. Either way, something or someone is working to undermine the society we have built here, and must be contained.”

A voice interrupted her train of thought. “Commander, General Tsunemori reports she is personally investigating a breach incident at Wayne Highschool. She requests permission to continue, and to send Captain Idias to report in her place.”

That gave Satsuki pause for a half-second, her brows furrowing. Yui’s school. There was a flash of alarm, but she knew how to compartmentalise it. A soft murmur spread around the room – she knew many of her staff had children who attended Wayne’s as well – but her simple stoic nod calmed their voices.

“Very well. Permission granted. She is to deliver her preliminary report as soon as it is complete.” Tsunemori, at least, could be trusted to handle the situation thoroughly, and with a modicum of discretion. There was always the spectre of paranoia – Akane was still a relative newcomer, a potential vector – but Satsuki chose to trust her own instincts, and the vetting she had already done when recruiting the young ex-inspector.

She was curious to see what one of her inner circle made of the situation on the ground.

—

Santa Barbara Park

Yui had been halfway through shooting Vigil a reproachful look for antagonising Beifong just when she was letting them go without a fuss, when she felt the first vibration under her boots. She almost couldn’t believe it. No- surely she wouldn’t – not in public, not with kids-

But sure enough, the tell-tale rumble of earthbending lightly tossed the soil under their feet, only to go still a moment later when Frankie’s foot hit the ground. Yui caught her balance again, stuck between incredulous disdain at Beifong and surprise at her young friend. He hated earthbending! She’d never actually seen him do it.

“Woah, Frankie! That’s – guh!”

Something hard hit her shoulder from behind. A long peg of rock. She got the feeling that it might have been meant to land squarely between her shoulder blades, but something – Frankie? – had deflected or weakened it? Either way, it still hit with enough force to spin her sideways and make her drop to one knee.

Yui looked up, her eyes wide under her horns. Beifong was attacking her and Vigil to provoke Frankie into bending. It was so juvenile and callous, Yui was stunned – for a moment, at least. Then she registered the first throbbing pain from her shoulder and knee, and the carefully layered ice of her cold composure shattered.

“What… is wrong with you!?” Yui spat, pushing herself to her feet again, fists clenched. Now that she’d given voice to the thoughts she'd been nursing since long before Toph had shown up in the park, she couldn’t stop herself, the words spilling out, her eyes bright with anger.

“You know why Frankie doesn’t want to learn to bend? It’s not just because it physically hurts him. It’s because he’s terrified of you! Because you’re awful! Your own son was frightened at the thought of you coming to see him in trouble, and you don't even notice, do you? You just want to make him fight. The whole city would be better off if you just hopped back on your spaceship and flew off somewhere you can’t hurt anyone else!”

—

Wayne Highschool

Outside the gates of the school, a pair of blue-grey painted jeeps pulled up and disgorged a half-dozen fusiliers. Clad in in pristine uniform jackets with bright white leather belts and sashes, they gathered just outside the gates, talking amongst themselves in soft professional tones or scanning the street.

The last to step down onto the street was a short, slender woman with a mousy-brown bowl cut, clad in an officer's desk uniform, a field jacket worn buttoned over the top. Shielding her eyes from the morning sun, she turned in place and looked around, her features set in a concerned, attentive frown.

edited 4th Jun '18 12:58:26 AM by LittleMako

Balder Capitol Building: Any Empty Seats on This Crazy Train?

Message in my head...

Link's knife-like ears twitched. His feet froze to the floor less than an arm's length from the exit. The shrill woman's demands bounced off the capitol building's front halls, and bounced tenfold more inside the Champion's head.

Message in my head...for whoever's in there...

Link whirled around as if a Lynel had notched an arrow at his back. She...she knew who to talk to about this? He'd honestly just thought of Commander Kiryuin as a way of establishing himself with the Fusiliers first; someone they could call on as a reliable sword arm while he was stuck on this planet. He couldn't have imagined there was someone who could handle Hylia's messages. Did Balder have a High Priest in the capitol building?

...a cryptic warning in my head, left by who knows what...

He knew!

"HYLIA!"

The cry came so suddenly and with such a start it was tough for Asriel or Lonely Willow or Kotak or the silent Sister Xola to gather exactly what the word meant. Was it the butterfly-woman's name? Was it a spell? Was it a curse word from the lad's planet?

Didn't matter. Ignoring the rattled sabers and hands over their holsters, Link dashed past the Fusilier guards and back to the reception desk, slamming a palm down on its surface. Better to make a noise than grab hold of a lady.

"That message..." Link asked, a pair of sapphire eyes staring one at a time at the woman's golden ones. "...what did it say?"

There was a subtle quiver in the young man's lips, a slight paleness in his face that few but the spidery woman, the receptionists, and perhaps the boy's guardian (if he flew after his ward) could detect. He wasn't mocking this fellow prophet, or demanding answers just to turn her away.

He just dearly—desperately—wanted to know.

edited 4th Jun '18 3:44:21 PM by TheodoreHastings

Pre Vizsla laughed slightly at the so-called lizard's exit. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine," he said. "Or, work associate or whatever.... you know what I mean."

Pre Vizsla followed him up the jet black staircase, noting the material used in this frankly decadent display of wealth. Of course, displaying that you had more resources than you needed could also be construed as a sign of power. Vizsla didn't completely approve, but he certainly didn't disapprove, at least in Scratch's case.

Pre Vizsla gladly accepted the drink, though the taste made him long for home, where he could get similar but more nostalgic drinks. His personal favorite was a little concoction called the Mandalorian Moonbeam. "Ahh, I haven't had a good drink in ages. You know, sometimes the best we get to drink is Caeossi blood. It's actually really sweet tasting, fun fact if you ever need to kill one. But of course, there's always the blood of the god, the water...."

 He mumbled slightly, then straightened up. "Excuse me," he chuckled. "I suppose the mind wanders with age. But look at you! Haven't aged a day, perhaps literally. You could be an adept warrior, if you were trained in the ways of the Death Watch. But I'm sure you wouldn't want that." He waved his hand vaguely. "Better behind the scenes, aren't you? I was like that a long while ago. I was a governor of Concordia, as a matter of fact. Not that you know of Concordia. I'd love to tell you about it, but I'm already rambling." He ran his hand through his whitening hair. He was very conscious of his age, mostly because he associated old age with weakness. It was bad enough his eyes weren't as good as they used to be. Back home, they could fix things like that, either with cybernetics or simple surgery. Here? No such thing. Vizsla had been exceedingly careful in maintaining himself in as healthy physical shape as he could, but still, time was not a foe you could defeat.

At the mention of the worm-monster, Vizsla chuckled. Yes, Ten Thousand Teeth, or something along those lines. "Hey, it worked, didn't it? And we're all fine now. At least, you look fine. Haven't aged a day, have you? As you can see, I've been getting on in years." He chuckled again, but this time with a tinge of weariness. "Running Death Watch is my life and my soul at this point, but I fear it's taken its toll on me. Failing eyesight, greying hairs, bad knee sometimes." Suddenly he remembered why he was there. "But I am still strong, able to lead, and my men are capable of many things, dangerous things. They are the children I never had." He laughed again. "But how have you been, 'Alan'?"

Sin Kiske, Eastern Gates

Sin nodded, his expression entirely serious for once.

"Got it. I'll put it in the report to Jengbish as soon as he's back."

He left to go spread the word as he'd been instructed, but stopped and turned back to his superior with a question on the tip of his tongue.

"Think we should make wanted posters? We do that, right?"

Vigil Kiske, Santa Barabara

Vigil felt the vibrations in the ground too, and it took a few seconds for him to realize what it meant; that Frankie and his Mom were having a brief bending-off.

("Over... me? I think?")

Frankie begged his Mom not to trip up his friends, so that was probably what was happening. He had to remember to thank Frankie for that save once they were out off earshot of Toph.

Her reaction to her son's disobedience, however, caught him more by surprise. He managed a 'Wha-' before a tower of rock emerged out of the ground and bumped Yui in the back, knocking her down.

At once, instinct kicked in and Vigil bent his knees, ready to spring at Toph and engage in combat against all of Yui's silent warnings. Once again, however, Yui managed to stop him from doing so by simply cutting in with words of her own, sending some much-needed retaliation Toph's way without a single fist being lashed out.

"Frankie, get back to the school. We'll catch up."

Vigil put a hand between them to emphasize this, as he wanted Frankie out of there before Mama Maniacal tried anything else. Once she inevitably did, Vigil had to be there to help Yui out.

Laura Kinney - Eastern Gates

"Sure, you do that and I'll put a word out on the wire," her position is high enough to where she can do that without requesting it first.

"After that, I'm going to look up some names in our records." Cloudcrest may not have been willing to give their brother's name, but her hearing has once again proven useful and picked up a name, Fourblossom.

Asriel - Balder Capitol

During Link's plea to the receptionists, Asriel keeps silent. What could he add to this? He didn't know of Link's real plan. What could he say? As Link walks away dejected, his caretaker fallowed.

"Hey, Link, I'm sorry for-" he said until a hooded figure would push their way past the two.

"Huh, a bit rude," he mumbles to himself. He was about to finish what he was saying before being interrupted, but then the woman starts to make a scene. Apparently she came her to for similar reasons to Link, but with more aggressiveness. Then Link runs past the guards to get her attention, and Asriel follows. If things get worse, he can take a hit better then any one of the others here can. Although something does poke his mind.

"So what is the message you two have, and why is it so important?"

Balder Capitol Building, Stairs

The old woman said nothing in response to Qilli's question, instead pausing her ascent and turning to observe the scene playing out down at reception.

"Hmm..."

Without warning, her hand lashed out to seize onto the birdman's arm, the other bringing up her staff to carve lines of ethereal illumination onto the air. Once the rune was complete, a work of only a second or two, it briefly shone more intensely, and then the pair on the stairway vanished in a pulse of blue light.

Balder Capitol Building, Mayor's Office

Although they had suddenly reappeared in a spacious room filled with plant life amongst a number of comfortable-looking chairs, the old crone seemed to have no trouble keeping her balance as she let go of Qilli's captive limb.

"New arrival down at reception," she announced to the empty air, "Asriel's there with a boy of his, as well. Dear Kotok and Lonely Willow seem to be having a bit of trouble with being grabbed, however, and the Fusiliers have their weapons at the ready."

"Oh, bother!" a much more youthful voice responded from somewhere over by the purple-marbled desk, "Thanks for the update; I'll go and see about smoothing things over."

"Wonderful."

And then, a strange thing happened. A few inches off the ground, a hovering woman appeared, clad in white robes much like the ones the crone was wearing. Her skin was pale, but her hair and eyes were a verdant green, the former pulled back into a single, enormous ponytail at the back. As she gazed at a distant spot on the wall with her concentration elsewhere, feet drooping just shy of the carpet below, she traced a figure out of light in the air with her hand — the same one the elder had drawn out earlier — and then, in a blue flash, she disappeared.

"Now then, Qilli," the old woman continued as if nothing unusual had occurred, patting one of the chairs near the unlit fireplace, "You'll be wanting some tea, won't you? Of course you will. Come, come, sit!"

Balder Capitol Building, Reception

Immediately behind Lonely Willow, a curious disturbance took place. It looked like a small sphere of blue light had appeared out of thin air, and before the eyes of those present, it rapidly expanded into the silhouette of a life size person. In just a couple of seconds, it solidified into a greenhaired woman, who smiled congenially at all gathered, then clapped sharply.

"At ease, men!" she ordered, voice gentle yet unyieldingly firm, "She's unhanded our dear receptionists here, and we don't need to threaten the poor girl to hear her message, do we?"

edited 8th Jun '18 7:36:18 PM by darksidevoid

Franklin Yishan Murdock; Santa Barbara Park

"What… is wrong with you!?"

What's... What's Yui saying? Why is she yelling? I couldn't stop Ma's pillar from hitting her... it has to be my fault! This is just like all those other times -

"You're blind and super-sensitive, not crippled! You have arms and legs and the best ears here, and I'm the only person on this planet who can teach you how to use them without killing you! Don't you understand?"

I'm six again and the air feels like a blanket of fire. Salt on my face, the sound of my heaving chest and hammering heart. Dad's slamming the dojo floor with his bo, yelling at me. He stinks of beer and sweat, old paper and dried tears.

"Your mother isn't coming back!"

And then I'm ten and Ma really is back, only the hillside is shaking and she's throwing rocks at me, actual boulders that feel like they'll crush me just by passing. They crash in front of me and around me, grinding my teeth with their din, grating my eardrums to shreds.

"What're you doing, Yishan?" yells Ma. "Be a man for once in your life and bend! Stand up to those rocks! Do you know how strong you are?"

I can't think. I can't breathe. It hurts so much. But then she sends one rolling right at me, fast enough to take my head off, and I scream and throw my hands up -

Silence. Ma makes the noise she always does, that little lip-quirk of disgust. The boulder quivers, suddenly and terribly still, then dissolves into pouring sand.

"You won't get anywhere like this, Yishan. I haven't even touched you."

When she's too far away to feel me, I sink to my knees, take my hands from my ears, and lick the blood from my fingers so she can't smell it.

"The whole city would be better off if you just hopped back on your spaceship and flew off somewhere you can’t hurt anyone else!"

And just like that, I'm back in the park, in the present day. No blood. No boulders. No dojo floor. Just Yui, bristling in rage, chattering slightly with the force of it, and Vigil standing there with slow realization in his straightening neck, and Ma.

Still earthbending. I am, that is, and she is, but she's not even thinking about it anymore. My toes feel like they've been clamped with staplers. Knots roil up my arms and back. I stagger back and let go with a gasp. The rock-spur shoots up like an exclamation mark.

"Frankie, get back to the school," says Vigil. "We'll catch up."

I blink twice to let my brain catch up, but even then I'm too slow. I want to tell Ma that I don't mean any of it, that Yui doesn't know what she's talking about. But my arms and legs feel like sandbags, and my lips feel like they're being eaten by a sloth, and so the only thing I can do is sway a bit and nod.

"I'll... I'll see you guys around then. Bye, Yui."

What are you doing? She stuck up for you, why...

"And Ma? I'm... I'm sorry I couldn't do it again."

No, you're not! You're glad! You hate bending!

But I've never been good at listening to my reasonable side. Not when my stomach's churning like this and my mind is reeling. I glance frantically around at the three silhouettes, try to say something else, then clam up and stagger away as quickly as I can.

Weakling, says my reasonable side. They really are right about you.

Shut up, I tell myself, convincing no-one. I keep my hands in my hoodie and my head down all the way back to school.

edited 11th Jun '18 7:56:00 AM by troydenite

Eastern Gate Infirmary

Okuyasu pondered the question for a second before giving it a response.

"I mean, sure! Balder is a neat enough place, and I've met plenty of great people! Plus, there seems like there's always something new! Not to mention I get to kick some ass as a Fusilier, which is a nice bonus. Speaking of, what exactly did you want to talk to the big man about?"

The spider-lady let out a high-pitched squeak once Link made himself known, though she quickly recollected herself and adjusted her dress with a rather disdainful look on her face. "I'll have you know, dude, that there are better ways to get a lady's attention-" She began admonishing him, only for her to notice the look in his face. And then, slowly, she got the same look in all of her hundred eyes. "You got the same message, didn't you?"

She smiled, or at least started smiling, only to remember that now everyone was looking at both her and the young man (she didn't notice it was because of Cassiopea's appearance, though she did give the woman a quick glance before filing her under 'ugly hair'). "And once the honeymoon ends, the unmarked will complete its reaping." The spider-lady said out loud, putting on a deep and important voice. "That's what I heard... the weird part is that I was about to ignore it, except... the voice who told me that message? She's been dead for a hundred and fifty years. So I guess if this message is important enough to bring my teacher back to life, it's important enough to be delivered to you ungrateful b— WOAH!"

The spider-lady's eyes caught sight of Asriel, which seemed like a much more important subject to her. "I have never seen anything like you..." She exclaimed, before her lips crumpled up in disgust. "So stay away before you infect me with whatever you've got!"

However, the instant Laura and Sin tried to send out the wire, or even get the wanted posters ready, they'd get a hearty 'no' from the Eastern Gate's vox-man: a mustachioed bald man with about fifty or so years under his belt, who had been recruited due to his familiarity with the machines.

"We've just got word from High Command to cease all mass broadcasts until the Commander gives the order." He said, shaking his head at the two as he oversaw the current controlled chaos that was his little part of the Eastern Gates, filled with people keeping an eye out for a key word. "I'm sorry. Seems like you two got a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why do you wanna send out a wire anyway?"

As Okuyasu talked, Loki's face morphed more and more into disappointment. "You're one of those." He muttered, sadly, waving his hand for the Fusilier to wrap up his response. "Well, you'll suffice. If life has taught me anything, it's that companions are... rare and... no matter how dumb they look, they're..." He continued to struggle for words, before eventually settling on "you seem like enough- whatever will convince me this isn't an awful idea" before motioning for Okuyasu to follow him.

"You see, my dear companion, me and your 'big boss' have a history. We used to work together. And I know that his tastes aren't exactly in sync with those of the general populace here in Balder." Loki steepled his fingers as he waited for Okuyasu to get up. "I'm going to offer him a deal that'll give me a way out of this damned rock and give him exactly what he needs to get exactly what he wants." He looked over at the Fusilier. "See, I'm being cryptic because I'm not sure how much you know, and I don't want to ruin your perception of ol' Bish."

There was a mix of fear and expectation in Andressa's face- her training had clearly mentioned such a possibility, but she had never truly thought that she'd face something like this, let alone on her first day. "Commander, far be it from me to interrupt your procedure in such an important moment..." She muttered, clutching the papers against her chest. "But how do you know such ideas haven't wormed their way into our heads? How do we know we're safe?"

Though it certainly didn't look like she was even paying attention to Yui, the girl's words seared their way through Toph's head, like a drill breaking through... something. Truth be told, she couldn't even come up with an apt metaphor. All she could do was hear her unbridled anger, with a terrifying soundtrack to boot: Yishan's legs, shaking more and more.

Because you’re awful! Yui yelled, as Toph lost herself more and more to the voices in her head. Your own son was frightened at the thought of ever since you joined us, you've been nothing but selfish and coming to see him in trouble, and how can you be so infuriating?! You don't even notice and maybe people wouldn't have a problem with you if you weren't such and hopped back on your spaceship and flew off somewhere you can’t hurt anyone else!

The cobblestone was gone, and in its place were the murky red sands of the planet they had visited not two days ago. Her fingers dug into the sand, trying to bend as much of it as possible as something big dragged her deeper and deeper into the sinkhole. A scaly claw had wrapped its way around her ankle, all because she had launched herself through the air in an attempt to deliver a fatal blow.

Once more, the ground disappeared. The claw launched her upwards. She could feel nothing but the air and the creature's hot breath, as its maw (or what she presumed was its maw) closed around her. There was no earth for her to bend, nothing she could do stop it. The creature's teeth grazed against her skin, and for a moment, she saw it: the way into the creature's throat, the death that awaited her.

She didn't have time to contemplate it, luckily. Thanks to a coordinated effort from her crew, Akane managed to leap in and save her at the last moment. Though seconds later she was safely back on the ground, sensing the creature's death, there was something stuck to her face. A look, frozen forever.

"Got ya, boss." Akane chuckled, blissfully unaware of the images making their home throughout Toph's mind. "Boss?"

She had no response for Yishan. Instead, she just looked at him. For her, that was an act in itself. She didn't need to look at people, so she only did so when she wanted to say something. But right now, even she didn't know what she wanted to say to Yishan... each possible response dissolving in her hand like wet paper, the wind picking up the pieces and taking them away from her, along with the opportunity to finally say something.

Instead, the only word she ever spoke were the vibrations left on her wake, as she stood up and ran away, the rock embracing her like a well-worn glove, taking her towards the Balder Supreme Court. He would understand these vibrations. He would talk to her. He always did.

With Anna working on making sure that Lísu remained calm (though he would periodically resume his sobbing), the matter of answering Noel fell to another person. "That would be me!" Mr. Mauty piped up. "I've already sent a messenger a while back- fastest one in the quadrant, so the boy's parents should be coming by at any moment. All we have to do is ensure the kids remain safe, calm, and most importantly—"

Whatever the third thing was, Mr. Mauty never got to say it, for the Fusiliers arrived right on time. Anna shot a glare at every single one of the uniformed officers, waving her hands around to get their attention. "Will you people be QUIET?!" She yelled, before noticing the last one to walk out, narrowing her eyes and making her way towards the officer. "I'm talking to all of you! We've got children inside the building, and the more noise you make, the worse this all gets."

"Please, Nurse Anna, don't talk like that to them!" Mr. Mauty whined, making sure to stay close to Lísu (who was still clutching the wheelchair's armrests). "Maybe the Fusiliers could escort the children back to their homes while we work things out, hm?" He shot several hopeful looks towards Miki and Noel. "Mayhaps you two could help Nurse Anna here whilst I and the other teachers ensure that they all walk out in a safe and orderly manner? After all, you certainly seem to have a knack for calming down people, hm, Ms. Kuroda?"

edited 11th Jun '18 12:48:43 PM by Stratofarius

Cauldron, Pent House: Catching Up, and Naming the Catch

Mr. Scratch listened to his (literally) old friend's reveries with a mix of outward understanding, and an internalized growing pit of regret. Ol' Vizzie's body wasn't the only thing that wasn't in tip-top shape: that makes two times he brought up Scratch's apparent youth in the same conversation. Then again, perhaps it wasn't senility that circled back to the entrepreneur's devilishly good looks. Could be disbelief, but envy was the more likely culprit. Viz wouldn't be the first one to be jealous of this little perk.

"I'm one of those freaks of nature that can't physically age." Scratch shrugged. "Guess I was just born to die gorgeous. Too bad that also means my physique's non negotiable; I ain't passing the Death Watch physical exam, no matter how many push-ups I do. Afraid I'll have to pass on the offer to join, but if you guys ever need an extra-chewy decoy, give me a call!"

Scratch laughed, and clinked glasses with his old friend. After a long throat-searing gulp that emptied his glass, Vizsla's old companion smiled.

"I've been doing pretty well for myself. Thanks for asking, Viz. This nightclub gimmick rakes in plenty of cash, but my real aspirations are a little less...well, open to the public. Nothing illegal, mind you—not like there's much of a law to oppose around here—but things that might've made Bruce and the other party-poopers a little cross with me."

The smile harmonized with a roll of the eyes. "Y'know those types: self-righteous ass-hats trying to push the rules of a culture fuckin' light years away from where you are, who somehow expect you to just roll over with the rest of the sheep. From what I remember, you had a little trouble with someone like that back on Mandalore, right? The royal type. A...Count?"

Scratch chuckled after the inevitable correction. "Count? Duchess? Might be the American spirit in me talking, but I couldn't tell you what's the goddamn difference. They're both prissy undeserved titles for dainty people. You don't earn respect just by getting pushed out of the right cunt—you earn it by proving you deserve it."

The smile shifted, joined by a certain cheer in Scratch's eyes that displayed something more than simple politeness; something like admiration. "That's what I've always liked about you, Viz. You stick to your own code because nobody's had the balls to fight you for it and win. You've built a small army around that code, an army not even the Fusiliers are eager to fuck with. Now that deserves respect."

Then with a blink, the admiration was gone. Scratch tittered as rose to fix himself another drink, and perhaps refill Vizsla's glass if he so chose. "Shit, now who's mind is wandering, huh? So I asked you to meet me here for a job offer. I can get you a handsome advance payment, and a bonus to it if you can get the Death Watch moving to the destination before evening. Cash is the easiest form of payment, but I can also get the Death Watch more practical earnings: weapons, armor plating, medical supplies, a healthy supply of ammunition for your officers, the works. Naturally, there's a catch..."

Scratch returned to his seat a little heavier than when he first sat down. Even with his winning smile, Vizsla might spot the hint of a grimace in his old friend's face.

"What I need the Death Watch to do will piss off a lot of people, especially the other god-killers. Hell, it might even piss you off, if I'm wrong about you. So before I start unveiling my master plan, I need to know that you're not scared of the law, or the Fusiliers, or our sweet old Madame Mayor. I need to know that—even if your hair, your eyes, or your knee aren't what they used to be—you're still willing to stick to your own code."

edited 14th Jun '18 3:52:12 PM by TheodoreHastings

Sister-Corporal Magda Licht, Balder Supreme Court

"The general is occupied with an internal matter," said Magda, tucking the badge back into her coat - it wasn't like he could see it, and he'd smelt the pistol underneath the moment she walked in. "A matter he would like to see closed as quickly as possible. I need to ask you some questions."

There was a bottle on his desk, open, and the clock had only just struck eleven - no smell of it on his breath or clothes, and his tone was as slick as ever. There was no particular disarray, nothing stacked up or hastily moved. She'd only met Murdock a handful of times over the past five years, but Jengbish had talked about him a handful more, and he'd said he was one of the hardest men to read he'd ever met. He'd struck her as an honest sort, at first, until two years later she'd learned he'd spun one of the biggest lies in the city.

Innocence proved nothing. Until built on by evidence, the worst case was all she could assume. Murdock had almost three decades of experience on her, twice her body weight, and the advantage in reach and strength; she had a pistol and a bayonet, and knew he wasn't scared of either, but she was almost certainly quicker. She'd done that kind of arithmetic a lot in her time on Balder, and was becoming increasingly confident in her conclusions.The odds were tipped. He couldn't be afforded a second pair of hands.

"Ms..." she glanced at the name-plate furnishing the desk, even though she knew damn well. "Ms. Tristam, this is an ideohazard scenario. In the interests of capitol security, you'll need to wait outside until I've finished."