Laura - Eastern Gates
Damn. Laura knows that Satsuki wouldn't cease broadcasts unless she had good reason, but this was still an inconvenience.
"I need to send word about the man who just put Okuyasu in the infirmary. He's still at large and dangerous, and I'd like to stop him before he tries something like this again."
Asriel - Balder Capitol
Asriel was used to a various amounts of looks to him, but disgust usually wasn't one of them, and coming from someone who could pass as a monster in his world (and having some similarities to a purple spider he knows of), that was especially odd.
"You... think you'll turn into a goat monster if I get to close? That doesn't work like that."
Upon hearing Link asking what a honeymoon is, Asriel felt a bit awkward, but he knew that he was going to find out some other way, so he answered, "Uh, you know what marriage is, right? A honeymoon is the first phase of it where the two are the passionate for each other, sometimes going away for a little bit, and after that settle into a more normal lifestyle."
He himself didn't know what a honeymoon was until later in life, despite marriage being a thing were he's from, so he didn't ask why he didn't know until now.
Sup
Eternal Princess
Yusuke saw the thief's eyes open at his critique. It seems his review wounded him where his sword had not. He was relieved to see the sign of life However, to break character in the middle of a performance, it was just bad form. Yusuke nodded solemnly as he mentally deducted more points on the thief's art.
The boorish shopkeepers words brought the artist's attention back to the task at hand. He really was a despicable human. Even so, utter unlikeability was not grounds of a crime. If that were the case, well, Yusuke himself has been told that he can come off course at times. The talk of a monetary reward seemed to peek the artist attention.
"I will be happy to take your money."
There was no hint of being abashed by the statement, even a certain smug smile of triumph crossed his lips.
"Lay my due next to the theif. I don't see a point in you walking over here only for me to then cross the same threshold to give it to him. It would just be inconvenient. Limiting my interactions with you is simply a inconcequential boon."
Whether the shopkeeper agreed to the request or not, it seemed the Fusilier had made her intentions known. There was little in way of alternative that did not have him directly resisting the woman's order. He thought on the situation. Perhaps there was still a palatable out come should all involved sought to make it so. He shot the thief a glare to let him know that if he tried something unseemly, it would not have his desired outcome. Yusuke was an iaijutsu practitioner and fleet of foot to boot. With that, the artist raised his hands and took a step back.
How do you kill that which has no life?
huzzaaaaaaaah
The spider-lady looked downright befuddled by Asriel's confusion. "Yeah, you idiot, I think you will—" She was about to explain before two of her hands snapped their fingers, the others covering her head in a massive facepalm. " Different world, Jess. " She sighed, rolled her eyes and waved Asriel aside. "Polymorphing is contagious where I come from. Someone sneezes in a subway cart, and suddenly we've gotta deal with at least fifteen werewolves tearing up a theater. It's not fun and I try to keep myself clean."
Tugging at the edges of her clothes, the spider-lady looked back at Link. "Listen, kid, you're cute, but please tell me the dumb questions are just an act." She used one of her hands to snap her fingers again, trying to get the Hylian's attention. "Now how's about you share your part of the message? Or do you think this is an one-woman effort?"
The thief's eyes remained open, focusing on Yusuke, seemingly hellbent on maintaining that eye contact even as the Fusilier walked closer and closer to check on the supposed 'downed' thief. "This blood smells weird..." She commented, kneeling down to dip two fingers in it so she could bring it closer to her nose. "Uhm." She looked up at Yusuke, waving her two fingers... just as the thief slyly moved the middle finger in his left hand, the one that had been left pointing towards Yusuke's general direction when the thief 'fell down'. "This smells like tomato juice."
It seemed that, no matter Yusuke's efforts, the thief hadn't learned the language spoken by his eyes.
A small dagger had slid out of the thief's sleeves, pushed bit by bit through minuscule finger movements, hoping to be completely imperceptible. Once it had been pulled out enough for him to at least grasp it with his thumb, the thief rolled to the side and threw the dagger, aiming right for the Phantom Thief's chest. But that wasn't enough: the thief himself wasn't interested in catching the results of his actions, as he quickly finished rolling to his knees so he could try and jump up, trying to grasp one of the nearby ledges in a frantic escape attempt.
"Seems to me like you hit the lottery: yer the wrong lady in the wrong place at the wrong time." The vox-man said, chuckling at Laura's predicament as one of his workers handed him a report. "Listen, I'm sure Okuya... Okuyu... your friend, I'm sure he's a very mighty Fusilier, but I don't think General Jengbish needs to be kept up to date when someone gets sent to the infirmary." He looked up from his report, pinching his mustache. "What's got you so spooked, anyways? Is this the first time you see someone get hurt out there? This is the eastern quadrant... better get used to it."
edited 20th Jun '18 2:19:03 PM by Stratofarius
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Balder Capitol Building
As the threat to her precious receptionists seemed to be over with, Cassiopeia made no move to interrupt the many-eyed lady or Link, and instead listened in with a keen ear. That said, she did take a moment to send the orphanage head a small wave with a silently mouthed 'Hello, Asriel!'.
The burgeoning riddle of words that seemed to be emerging became almost a secondary concern, however, as another possibility reared its head. Someone new to the planet... If her instinct was right, this spelled something far larger than a mere cryptic message.
"Excuse me," she interjected, clasping her hands as she addressed Link, "I'm ever so sorry to interrupt, and I'd like to hear your message as well, but I must ask, how long have you, yourself been on Balder? And does the name Etmes mean anything to either of you?"
edited 20th Jun '18 5:12:31 PM by darksidevoid
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
sword of promised halp
Matt Murdock; Office Of The Same - Balder Supreme Court
Agnes doesn't really bark when she's mad. Not because she's a master of self-restraint or anything like that — quite the opposite, in fact. It's just when she's annoyed, she gets so stiff and straight-laced that, well...
There's just no room left to stretch. So she tends to just, ah, stop. Typing, that is.
And then put all her fingers down at once.
The typewriter jams with a horrible splacking noise, typebars splaying up like heels over a very concussed head. Agnes slips from her side of the desk, bends over, and picks up the tray of now-lukewarm tea like a porcelain maid. She transfers it to one hand and looks back.
"I think I'll go make some more tea, Your Honor."
"You do that, Ms. Tristram," I say, preparing myself for the next four days of frosty stares and non-verbal aggressions. (Trust me, when you're as sensitive as I am, you really feel those stares.) "And if you could use the last of those imported chamomile teabags, I would..."
She walks past Magda, her bun brushing past the Sister-Corporal like a silent rebuff. I'm just about to let her go when my ears prick up.
"One moment, Agnes."
I let a little part of my judge-voice slide into the Agnes, and at last her hand falls from the doorknob and stays.
"My wife's coming," I say, with a lot more nonchalance than I actually feel. "Do the usual, please."
I can't see faces, but I'm pretty sure she's looking back at me like roadkill right now. A very charming, dapper piece of roadkill in a bright red suit.
"You do realise that your wife could crack me like an egg, Your Honor?"
"More than anyone else," I grin. It is not an easy grin.
She lets out a small sigh of infinite contempt, then walks out the door and shuts it smartly, tea-tray perfectly balanced on her left hand. I lean back in my chair and stretch, then slap my hands together. Calculated body language, all of it, a way to smack my limbic system back through time and pretend that I'm still the sunny swashbuckler I was twenty years ago. Someone who had prospects, who had a city and a world, who wasn't downright despised by the only two women left in his life.
It works, mostly. Self-deception is a wonderful thing.
"Capitol security, is it? Sounds like quite the kerfluffle, if I do say so myself."
No response. I lean forwards, then smirk.
"She's out of earshot, Mags. You can talk now."
Agnes Tristram; Balder Supreme Court - Ground Floor
After she dumped the tea into the bathroom sink and put the tray and cups, very crookedly, on top of the only urinal, Agnes Tristram proceeded down five flights of stairs to await the arrival of one Toph Beifong.
She was a handsome woman. That was really the only way to describe her, with all its strange and archaic connotations. Her walk was too clipped to be called graceful, her long bunned hair too brassy to be called golden, her chin too sharp to be called well-formed, and her ice-blue eyes too bright to be called charming. If anything, they were arresting eyes, brilliant wintery orbs that reminded the onlooker of her formidable, ever-judging mind.
It had been so much more than a formidable mind, once. When she had still been part of Narcissus, she had the power of a trillion machine-cycles at her beck and call. They all did. But now she was stuck in this meatspace morass, a single brain in a single body, unaugmented and incomplete. And that blind idiot of a judge made her slam her fingers on his cold dead typer for a living.
She was so slow here. So dumb here.
If Matt Murdock wasn't such an arrestingly attractive hunk of man, she would have quit months ago.
Agnes stood on the steps of the Supreme Court, shadowed by one of its two marble pillars. There hadn't been enough import stone to recreate the exact look that Murdock had requested, and Beifong had stormed out of his life mere weeks later. The other six pillars, and as a matter of fact, the building, were a disconcerting shade of old chalk.
There had to be so many memories here. Memories she could use against him. Against...
It was at that point that the woman in question rolled up on her waves of concrete and thinking, or at least planning, became quite secondary.
The street roiled to a sodden, cookie-dough halt, then set. Agnes, dwarfed by the great mounds of pavement, looked up and gave a very professional smile to the woman on top of them.
"Hello, Ms. Beifong," she said. "I'm sorry, but the Chief Justice is in a very confidential meeting. I'm afraid he can't see anyone right now."
Edited by troydenite on Jun 28th 2018 at 10:06:20 PM
'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023
Jo'on - Balder City Center
As processes went, coining was actually quite simple. One simply placed a blank between two dies and struck the coin's design into them. It was setting all of that up that was difficult.
Mass production of coins would wear out the dies in a hurry, and the manufacture of those took time and care. Never mind that one had to be careful with making the blanks, if it was to have and keep its value.
Casting ingots of the right composition, softening the ingots, hammering them, softening them again, cutting them into blanks, hammering the blanks thinner, softening them again, another hammering, another softening, hammering the edges to make them rounder, softening, cleaning the blanks, then coining could finally be done.
Still, once it was done the coins would remain in circulation for years and years.
Of course, Jo'on barely knew any of that, beyond how the coins would stay and likely pass through her hands many, many times. She was happy so long as the mint was built and she got to enjoy the benefits.
For designs, Jo'on had already decided the looks of each coin. The biggest coins, the gold majesties, would bear Cassiopeia's face. Jo'on contented herself with gracing the silver graces, and she'd opted to let Satsuki's stern countenance stare from every copper honour.
Now that she had permission from the mayor, all that was needed was getting the construction process started. As Shion helped herself to a better breakfast than most in Balder, Jo'on had word sent to the construction team she'd picked for the task. Then she exited the Shrine of Prosperity, stepping into Balder's city center. She began making her way to the construction site, adopting a leisurely pace as she walked down the streets.
Conception is sin Birth is pain Life is toil Death is inevitable
huzzaaaaaaaah
Though she was at first confused about where Cassiopeia had come from, the spider-lady eventually shook her head and placed one hand on her hip to emphasize just how much waiting she was doing. "Nope. Never heard of it. Why? Is he the king of this place?"
Satsuki's research would be a double-edged sword, for its results brought the confirmation that these were more than just coincidences: Andressa's predecessor had been hiding Fusilier reports of the phrase the unmarked grave being spoken or found in graffiti all over Balder. The mess wasn't just a random mess, it was an attempt to hide the fact that all over town, random men and women were feeling the unsavory urge to warn their family members or the occasional Fusilier about how the unmarked grave would begin its reaping.
There was no discernible pattern amongst these reports, apart from the fact that these events started happening five days ago, at a rate of approximately five per day, with a total number so far of 28 reports- 6 in the northern quadrant, 7 in the western quadrant, 4 in the city center and 11 in the eastern quadrant. The victims were so random and the locations were spread out far enough that any sporadic reports which didn't land in the desk of Andressa's predecessor ended up being filed as 'accidents'.
However, on more than three quarters of the reports, there was always some mention of how witnesses reported the victim speaking in 'a voice that wasn't theirs'- except every single witnesses would hear a different voice. In one case with two witnesses, each one heard their deceased parents speaking at the same time.
In the witnesses' own words, 'it was an angelic experience'.
The men assigned to researching Balder history returned with nothing, finding that not only had the phrase never been uttered before in their digitized previous reports, but also that there were only two reports regarding 'people speaking in a voice that wasn't theirs without their awareness', from AM 21, when a mage that had arrived in Balder's third wave was using dark magic to make other people steal from him. According to the same records, the mage had died in a fight against the Fusiliers, consumed by his own spells.
Oh, great. Trystface.
It wasn't exactly the smartest nickname, but it was the first thing that came up on Toph's mind once she found out about Agnes. Then again, she hadn't found out about the secretary in the best of conditions... it all happened after a particularly tiring mission, with Toph having had to spend entire nights awake to make sure they weren't eaten by another giant space bug. Then she comes back to have a talk with Matt and, all of a sudden, there's another woman sitting in his office, giving her the stink-eye.
Thinking back on it, Toph didn't really understand why she was angry with him. Or her.
In any other day, she would have just barked an order and walked past Agnes. But now she needed Matt to be at his most agreeable self. She needed Matt Murdock, not that other dude who came up whenever he got scared or angry. But Agnes? That was a different story. And so, as the pavement gently dropped her in front of Agnes and neatly returned back to its original, pristine self, Toph nodded and smirked.
"Fine, fine. You still know how to make tea, Trystface?"
Back when the site for the future mint was first picked, citizens of the city center would crowd around its wooden walls and 'keep away' signs, hoping to see some sort of action. Eventually, they all caught wind of the fact that it would remain nothing more than an empty vacant lot, and now the only visitors were the construction team members getting the site ready. Even though the doors were open and one could see the scores of men and women waiting for their orders inside, nobody was paying attention to it.
Except for one person. Hanging around the corner, wearing his typical large dark red sunglasses and quietly resting underneath the shade of a gold-trimmed red umbrella was Fourblossom Flowerbottle
, one of the richest men in Balder and the city's first clothing designer. What began as a single perfume shop in the western quadrant soon evolved into finely tailored clothing ranging from all shapes and sizes. The Flowerbottle name meant quality and prestige, be it an evening dress for a night out or a flowery dress for work.
It also meant a bigger smile in Fourblossom's face, and more armored soldiers stealthily hanging out a few feet away from him for protection.
"Ah, Chancellor Yorigami!" The hefty voice of a large creature wearing a yellow sash around his chest
spoke up once Jo'on approached the construction site. Drak had been one of the early arrivals at Balder, and he quickly found the perfect niche in construction work, eventually creating his own construction team, the Balder Boulders. "We got word you had all the paperwork approved? I was about to give the sign to my people, but..." He glanced over her shoulder at Fourblossom, who was watching the whole thing with a smile. "... that guy, he showed up today and he's been staring at us the whole time. I thought he was just another citizen, but... brother, he gives me the creeps!"
Edited by Stratofarius on Jun 29th 2018 at 7:38:48 AM
Jo'on - Construction Site
Balder's chancellor raised an eyebrow at the man the Goron pointed out. He seemed familiar , but Jo'on couldn't quite recall the whys and the hows. No doubt if she heard a name it would all come flooding back.
He did look pretty affluent though. She wondered what it'd be like if she got him to seriously splurge on a party. The thought made her grin.
"Well, if he's just standing there it shouldn't be an issue," said the pestilence god, waving the concerns away. "Just start your work. I'll deal with him if he causes any problems."
She gestured to the rest of the workers, signalling for them to get moving.
Conception is sin Birth is pain Life is toil Death is inevitable
A dogged fellow, aren't we?
Santa Babara Park
... that actually worked?
Yui could only stand dumbfounded as Toph fled, leaving her panting and bracing for a retaliation that never came. After spending so long bottling them up, part of her had been habouring some secret fantasy that venting her frustrations at her friend's shitty mother would leave her feeling satisfied, vindicated. Maybe if Beifong had fought back, she would have that. Right now, though, all she had was a the pins-and-needles of her bruise healing and a guilty hollowness in her stomach.
"Ah, shit..." She muttered, shooting Vigil a guilty look. She was a far cry from her usual commander's-daughter image, face pink with a rare blush that she tried to hide by adjusting her tousled hair.
"We'd... we'd better get going too..."
With that, she turned and ran after the retreating back of Frankie's hoodie.
—
Wayne Highschool
The squad of white-belts gave Anna a collective look of confusion as she stormed up to them shouting. The few who looked like they were about to say something shut up as General Tsunemori stepped up to meet the approaching teachers, raising one hand as if to intercept Mr Mauty's suggestion in mid-air.
"Excuse me. I'm going to have to ask that you and your students return to the school for now." She explained calmly, looking between the teachers with cool brown eyes, acknowledging Miki with a small nod as she spotted her. "Any parents who are present should wait in the school as well, if their homes or workplaces are not nearby. We don't want a crowd of people flooding the streets right now."
"Please, this is for your own safety." At her nod, the fusiliers moved into the crowd, calmly urging everyone to head back onto school grounds.
Edited by LittleMako on Jun 30th 2018 at 7:07:09 AM
Balder Capitol Building, Reception: Hylia's Message is "24"
In the handful of moments since he asked his innocent question, the color in Link's cheeks had driven into overdrive. The adolescent thought of passionate lovers, the heckling for not knowing an apparently obvious fact, the demand for his piece of Hylia's message, and the overall focus on him turned the Champion's face hot red. Paralyzed by the sudden attention—and not all of it good attention—Link feared that one more pointed question would force the boiling blood in his face through his skin!
"I...uhh..."
His fist clenched on the receptionist's desk, figuring that he couldn't tremble if his muscles were busy with something else. He swallowed. He coughed. He swallowed again. Good Goddess, why was this so hard to say?! The others now had proof he wasn't crazy, didn't they? But what if—
The sound of hands clapping jolted Link from overthinking things; he offered the inquisitive woman a nervous smile as appreciation.
"Today's my fifth day here." he answered the stranger. "I don't know that name."
Well, least he knew his tongue hadn't shriveled up. Still, there were way too many eyes on him to feel especially comfortable. It didn't help matters that 100 of the 120 eyes in the room didn't seem all that friendly.
Link's eyes turned to Asriel, before falling to the ground. He shouldn't have kept this message a secret from the Monster Prince; it was disrespectful, and a sign that he didn't trust Asriel to understand what was going on. He'd understand if Asriel felt hurt by that.
Taking a deep breath, Link released his fist and spoke...mostly to the floor.
"When the one who sees all sees nothing but darkness."
Balder City, Construction Site: Makin' My Way Downtown...
Fourblossom Flourbottle would hear the man approach before he bothered to spot him through those pricey sunglasses: the rough brush of dirt across an expensive dress shoe, tossing flakes of the dead god onto fine cobbler work without a thought for its worth. The softer brushes of a cane accompanied the scuffing footsteps, along with the occasional, accidental thump of a briefcase hitting the pedestrian's leg.
"Mr. Flowerbottle."
It was more of an acknowledgement than a proper greeting. Something quick that demanded nothing in return, not even a glance at the speaker. Then, unless the entrepreneur blocked his path, the pedestrian would be on his way around the corner, walking confidently towards the Chancellor.
Truth be told, the pedestrian couldn't care less about the sickly-skinned perfume-maker. He didn't have much use for cologne, since he had little interest in attracting much attention. His clothes weren't Flowerbottle products either, since his business partner had insisted on hiring a private tailor for the firm's executives—his partner had said "no self-respecting man wears anything with the word 'flower' in it," and he had indifferently agreed.
And truth be told, there seemed to be very little the pedestrian cared about nowadays, and this little errand wasn't on that list. Still, it could at least keep his mind busy. Such exercises were all that kept him sane on this disgusting planet; such exercises sang his beastly rage back to sleep.
Strongest In History
Okuyasu followed, not really out of obedience but out of curiosity.
"Uh, I think I understand. And I definitely know what you're talking about with boss not being quite aligned with the others. I pay more attention than you'd think, ya know?"
Transcender of Gender
Laeta Owari - Eastern Gates -> Eastern Quadrant
Laeta puffed out a breath at Cloudcrest's request. They passed under the gates and into the city proper, the loamy scent of the Wilds giving away to a more vivid palette- leather and acid from the Haina, gunpowder and metal from the barracks and weaponsmiths. She didn't like it here. Besides the centre, it was the city's biggest proponent for modernisation. Completely counter to the Naturalists and their cause.
"C'mon, Cloud, how long d'you think it'll be till the Fussies dig up Fourblossom's name and spill the beans to him?" She unwrapped her arm from Cloudcrest's neck, cracking her own as they continued into the Quadrant's streets. "Y'ask me, we should get to him before they do. Let 'im down gently, yeah?"
Akane Owari - Landing Field
At Griffy's first accusation- that Akane had a suggestive intent with her words- the older woman cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "C'mon, Griffin, how old are ya? Me 'n the boss ain't lookin' to cradle rob... though don't let it be said that I don't appreciate it."
At the second accusation- this one, perhaps, hitting closer to home base- the smile slid off Akane's face, the natural grey of her eyes given them a piercing quality as she worked to keep her features neutral. "Dunno what you're talking about." she replied. "Sounds kinda sneaky, actually, and we both ain't gonna pretend that I'm smart enough for that."
She walked backwards out of the ship, turning to face proper once she hit the ramp. Once Griffy had left her view, Akane couldn't help but let her irritation escape by proclaiming "Have fun with your ship!" as she stomped down the metal.
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Calamity is a housewife
Sin Kiske, Eastern Gates
("Cease all mass broadcast? Why?")
As Laura tried to haggle her way past the vox-man's arguments, Sin pondered on this thought.
Much like Laura, Sin knew an order like that meant there was a damn good reason... probably something spooky that needed to be nipped in the bud. Maybe Commander Kiryuin already knew about the impending threat to the Fusiliers, or the Original Warriors, or whatever group that Naturalist guy was referring to.
All this only put him less at ease. A threat Sin knew nothing about was a hell of a threat, but his gut told him that the Commander had to be planning something... and chances were that Jengbish, on his visit to her, would already know of it as well by now.
And that thought finally comforted him, and he looked to Laura and the vox-man, who inquired on what the exact situation was.
"Well, one of the Naturalists coming in was acting unnaturally. He made a direct threat to us, to all of us; 'she'll pay the price, along with all the others' he said, and... he spoke in a voice that wasn't his. He talked about how 'the unmarked will begin their reaping'.
"At the least, I should report what he said to General Jengbish, but if the Commander wants mass comms dead for the time being, I trust her."
Vigil Kiske, Santa Barbara Park, En route to Wayne Institute
So that was it. Mama Maniacal was torn down by only Yui's furious words and ran for the hills. The look she shot towards her retreating son said it all.
With Toph gone, Vigil relaxed his stance, almost disappointed that things didn't escalate into a fight. Would've been a good excuse to see how he'd fare against an Original Warrior. Well, at least Toph got the verbal tearing down of the century, and Vigil looked to Yui with a self-assured smile, assured that she'd done it.
But Yui didn't look triumphant like he'd expected of her. In fact, she seemed... embarrassed, certainly not at all proud of the things she'd just said.
Vigil's smile faded slowly. Part of it was confusion, yes, but another part of it was his half-developed social instinct, that he shouldn't be smiling about something his friend felt guilty over.
Running after her, Vigil sent the important question her way, while his brow furrowed in half-concern and half-curiosity.
"I'm... surprised that's how you did it. I would've fought her. I mean... that's what you were gonna do too, right? After the words?"
Edited by LatverianBadger on Jul 5th 2018 at 11:17:10 PM
"Shake the dust." - Anis Mojgani
Eternal Princess
The icy blue gaze of the artist met with the thief's. It was as if he was trying to decipher the mysteries of young mutant's mind while providing a widow to his own. Cool determination, followed with a slight puzzlement. The thief's eyes were not of resignation, but of defiance. Of what? What did the thief have to gain in this situation he himself had trapped himself into. Even the offer of Yusuke's own monetary reward did nothing to placate the thief. But it seemed this was the path the narrative had taken. There was slight shadow of regret across the young artist's face, before returning to the same icy blue determination. So be it.
A flash of steel swatted the dagger effortlessly from the air, the blade returning to Yusuke's sheath almost as quickly as it appeared. It seemed the thief forgot the first rule of sleight of hand is misdirection. Trying to pull a surprise attack while being watched for such an occurrence, especially with eyes as sharp as an artist's, it was bound to fail.
The thief moved, so the fox followed suit. With the grace of a cat, Yusuke would effortlessly leap, climb, and land on the ledge in fluid motion, ready to give chase. If the thief had not learned before hand, he would find that trying to outrun the agile thief troublesome, and verticality offered no solace to that fact. However, Yusuke had no intention of letting this continue any further then it had. Eerie blue fire glowed off his body as the image of Japan's greatest thief appeared.
"Bufu!"
With a twist from the ghostly image's hand, ice crystallized from thin air and flung itself toward the thief, seeking to encase the thief's hand on the ledge, or should the thief manage to pull him self up in time, his feet. The ice would prove not very harmful, but he would find him self stuck should it hit.
As he chased after the thief himself, Yusuke spoke, directing his voice at the female Fusilier.
"So is letting a culprit escape from under your watch and make an attempt at a bystander's life also part of your training, or is that just your own personal technique?"
The comment was meant to draw the Fusilier back to the task at hand. He couldn't avoid the tint of annoyance in his tone however, even as he continued to speak in a formal manner. As vexing as it was that all this could have been avoided if the Fusilier had just done her job effectively, his frustration was with himself. He had failed to change the thief's heart.
With out the Metaverse app, it was like trying to pull off a heist without ever entering building. But it was his own failing that bought about this out come. The Phantom Thieves was a group. Each strengths covered the others' weakness. Without them, he could feel the futility of his own limitation. More so, it was his own weaknesses that it ever the more apparent to him that they weren't there on Balder with him.
All he could do now was capture this thief and arrest him. It was hardly a consolation, but it seemed it was all that could be done now.
How do you kill that which has no life?
Asriel - Balder Capitol
"Oh, well you don't have to worry about getting any weregoat germs here, that won't happen with me."
Asriel let himself smile and waved when he saw Cassiopeia, it's not everyday he meets up with another Original Warrior (that he's on fairly good terms on).
Seeing the obvious discomfort Link was in, Asriel goes and takes up some space between him and the spider lady, trying to subtly take some attention off the Hylian.
"No, Etmes is an angelic-looking guy who always wears a hood. You'd know if you've seen him."
"Now what about your part of the message?"
Laura - Eastern Gates
"Of course I know General Jengbish won't care to hear about another Fusilier getting injured. What I do think he, and the rest of our quadrant should know, is that a dangerous superhuman is somewhere out here and he has no quarrels about attacking Fusiliers unprovoked. There's a difference in getting used to tragedy and disregarding danger. Something I hope you also know."
Of course at this point in her life Laura has lost people close to her, and has gotten a bit cold as a result, but if she can stop future tragedies, she won't hesitate to do it.
Edited by goldenshark on Jul 5th 2018 at 7:22:40 AM
Sup
Mancunian Candidate
Magda Licht, Balder Courthouse
Magda didn't lift her eyes from Murdock, because things were delicately balanced and Tristram didn't merit the sneer in any case. There was some sort of bad blood between Bei-Fong and the Bloodfather-General, something long before her time and way above her head, but she'd gathered enough to know she'd become a part of it the moment the Long Knives had let her in; that was an interrogation she was beginning to dread. The woman spent more time offworld then on, and while the strength of that alibi put her about as far down in priority as you could reach, the longer she spent downstairs the less excuse there was.
Murdock leant in, all clean-shaven jaw and gleaming teeth, and Magda stepped away on general principle. He'd always been like that. Tristram was out of earshot; for some reason, she felt like sighing. So she did.
Then she drew her pistol, muzzle tipped toward the floor.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Murdock. There's been a breach. We won't know until they've sifted everything through, but it looks like a Class A. That means I'm on Hereticus protocol until we can secure all our assets. Until you're clear, I don't know you. You should take a seat."
Magda didn't, but manoeuvred smoothly with him, back to the wall, and kept the desk between them.
"Let's begin. This is an ideohazard scenario, Mr. Murdock, cult or political. Our keyphrase is 'the unmarked grave ends the reaping'. Does this mean anything to you?"
Edited by OG-Sama on Jul 7th 2018 at 6:58:17 AM
A Squid
"Hmm," Vizsla said, mulling it over. Then he smiled and waved a hand vaguely. "We already have chewy decoys around. We just call them 'new bloods'."
Vizsla nodded along to Scratch's talk about the 'self-righteous asshats'. "A Duchess, yes. Duchess Satine. And you're right. They are undeserved titles. The only title I recognize is Mand'alor, and that's because I fought for it." He accepted the refill from scratch, nodding his head in thanks.
As they got down to business, Vizsla's voice took on a more professional tone. "Cash would do, but we would prefer weapons and ammunition, as well as medical supplies, and possibly other things as well. I can get my personal camp mobilized fairly fast, unless you think this job will require more than roughly five to twenty five people."
Vizsla waited til Scratch finished, then spoke with the slow tones of someone professional yet proud. "Don't worry, friend. My code is my code, and I would follow it to the grave of need be. And I'm not scared of anyone who I shouldn't be. Like I said earlier, the only title I truly respect is Mand'alor, and that's me." Vizsla took a slow dip of his drink. "And besides, you're a friend to Death Watch and to me. Helping you is what I feel I should do, so long as it doesn't hurt Death Watch."
huzzaaaaaaaah
"Speak up! You've got an important message, boy, now be a messenger and deliver it!" The spider-lady groaned, one of her hands moving to her forehead so she could massage it in anger. "And thank you for that comforting thought, weregoat." She spat at Asriel when he stepped forward, and would have continued her verbal abuse if not for something else catching her attention.
It was a woman. By all accounts, she seemed normal, and unworthy of the spider-lady's attention. But she wasn't wearing an uniform. She was wearing a hood, a sign that she was trying to hide something... something beautiful, by the looks of it. Chitin hair. Her heart skipped a beat for a moment. Could it be?
The spider-lady threw her hood back fully, making sure to show as much of her head as possible. Some of her eyes turned back to Asriel, trying to keep him from noticing that her attention no longer belonged to the weregoat. One hand ran through the sharp edges of her dress, pulling down to reveal patches of inhuman grey skin.
To anyone else, it might have looked as if she was just adjusting her dress. But some of her eyes remained glued to the bystander, hoping to see a glint of recognition.
"AIEEEEEEEEEEE!" The thief's shrieks soared through the alleyway as his hands were frozen the instant they touched the ledge. He tried to move, but the pain from having your entire hand being encased in ice was far too much for him to deal with, besides just scraping his feet against the wall in a half-hearted attempt at escape.
The Fusilier grunted and glared at Yusuke, pulling out her baton and shouting for the bystanders to get back. "I'll arrest him!" She said, reaching into her coat and pulling out two cuffs that had clearly seen some use.
"P-please..." The thief whispered to Yusuke as the Fusilier made her way towards him, positioning a crate near his feet so she could shackle them together. He looked up at the Phantom Thief, true fear tinging his eyes, a quivering lip complimenting his pleading. "I'll pose for you. I'll do anything for you. Please, I don't want to go to jail! Do you know what they do there to people like me, p-people who look like me? P-please... please, I beg you, just..."
Whatever else he wanted to say, his words were quickly drowned out by his tears, as the thief started full on bawling in front of Yusuke.
"Right you are." The Goron said, turning towards his construction workers and producing a thunderous clap with his massive hands. "Let's get to work, brother!"
It took the workers a while to get started, but once they got on a groove, it was quite admirable: unlike human-only construction crews, the Goron's team was made up of people who could speed up the process with their powers. A woman with dark blue hair over oen eye and a yellow vest produced small light blue portals, helping an incredibly flexible man snake his way towards the upper levels of the building's frame, constructing it perhaps six times faster than a human crew could.
"This is going to be the entrance." The Goron continued, pointing at a blueprint that had been nailed to the construction team's office and then at the construction site. "Now your plans called for some trees to be planted here, but I'm thinking we could surround the path to the door with nothing but rocks, brother. It'll give the place a feeling of power!"
Before the cane-wielding man could take another step closer to the construction site, a hulking suit-clad woman stood in his way, her tie and dark glasses doing the best to distract from her mildly vicious glare. "Mr. Flowerbottle would like a conversation with you." She said in a thick accent that betrayed just how much the English language was a recent acquaintance to her. "Please come." And with a wave of her hand, she tried to 'gently' push the man back.
Fourblossom, for his part, didn't so much as react until the guard tried to force the man to step back, at which point he removed his glasses and hooked them on his shirt. "I recognize you." He said, his high-pitched voice matching the fragile and lithe nature of his body. "But from where?" He twirled his umbrella slightly. "From where, from where, from where~" He muttered to himself in a sing-song manner. "Perhaps... from that club? The Cauldron? That is where you're from, right?"
Loki suddenly stopped walking, letting out a chortle. "Yes, of course. That is why I gave you the opportunity to join me, Okuu." He turned around, still smiling. "Because of your... unbridled potential as a serv—" He stopped, looked around and shrugged. "—friend." He raised an eyebrow. "You really have no idea of who I am, don't you?"
"Don't you come to me talking about tragedy and danger, girl. I'll have you know—" The mention of an 'unmarked' prompted the vox-man to stop and gasp. "Fuuuuuuuck." He grumbled, taking a careful step back away from Laura and Sin. " I thought that shit was only happening in the city center. Fuuuuuuuuck!" He snapped his fingers, and one of the workers wheeled out a portable vox-machine, which the vox-man started fiddling with.
"Right, son, you just earned yourself an one-way convo with headquarters." He held out the receiver towards Sin, still making sure to keep a distance between him and the fusilier, as a voice spoke up from inside: "HQ on the line."
As Laeta put forward her plan, Cloudcrest's expression morphed into a more accepting one. "Yes, yes, he'll understand that it wasn't my fault-" They shrugged in the gate's direction. "-the Pincae or that strange man, take your pick-" And finally, turned back to Laeta with a smile. "-yes, yes, you're smart, you're smart. We should do that."
"If I remember correctly, he said he was going to visit a construction site in the city center..." Cloudcrest rubbed their chin. "But you know, Laeta, you're so smart. And we pay you well. Why don't you join us full-time? W-we could use someone of your... strength and intelligence. And we'd keep paying you if you wanted to. But as I've learned, nature is its own reward sometimes."
One of the Naturalists followed them chuckled. "Yeah, and you can actually punch someone in the face!" He said, slinking back into a sea of chuckles.
"I've learned that peace is nature's preferred method of dealing with things!" Cloudcrest snapped back, before turning to Laeta with a smile. "But yes, you can punch people good. And that's a valuable skill!"
"I'm glad you know the limits of your own intelligence!" Griffy yelled as she tried to slide back into her hatch, away from Akane's sights. "I will have fun with my ship. Have fun with your... with your... with your FISTS!" And with a SLAM, she disappeared from view.
The instant Akane stepped out of the ship, the unnatural crackle of a vocoder filled the air. "Tell me, did you always like yelling..." A man clad in black stepped out of the shadows, his hands hanging loosely by his side- as if there weren't two clearly technologically advanced pistols in his belt. "Or is that just part of the job?" He said, his voice garbled and modified, emanating out of a speaker in his mask.
"You are... Akane Owari, no?" The man said, holding out his hand for a handshake. "I'm a big fan."
Anna might have accepted the orders, if not for that dreaded phrase. For your own safety. "How many madness diseases have you had to deal with, hm?!" She squealed, trying to stand on top of her toes. "How many times have you had to deal with kids who won't stop crying because when they close their eyes all they can see are their nightmares, thrown back at them? HM?!"
She would have punctuated her question by jabbing a finger at the General's chest, but alas, her height forced her to just pace back and forth in front of the woman. "I've dealt with many. And I appreciate you coming here to help. But I was hired because of my experience, and my experience tells me that whenever something like this happens, the one thing you should never do is put everyone in the same place!"
With a grunt, she swiveled around to face Miki, Noel and Mr. Mauty, raising her eyebrows at them. "Come on, help me out here, you three! You're supposed to protect the kids too!"
Edited by Stratofarius on Jul 9th 2018 at 10:53:52 AM
Eternal Princess
And thus the thief wept. They always put on such water works. He remembered Madarame being particularly extreme in that regard. So much so that he had seen artist renditions of his crying face for the purpose of amusement. A meme as he believed they are called. But this thief cries for no one but himself, a selfish individual through and through. Yusuke gave the thief a look
, while lacking hatred, showed that he would find no pity here.
"Had you forgotten but a moment ago you had tried to kill me. Besmirch my good name. Now expect empathy for your plight? If you had allowed me to return the ill gotten goods, I would have helped you avoid this fate. But this is the consequences of the path you have chosen. You must live with your choices."
It wasn't his preferred outcome, in fact the phantom thief was a bit frustrated at the results. But the thief gave little other option.
He met the Fusilier's glare with one of his own.
"Of course all of this could have been avoided if the Fusilier had provided better protection against anti-mutant violence in certain quadrants."
It was perhaps unfair to criticize them so. This situation was not ideal for anyone, and they were at least trying. But with the state things are in, they needed to be better. They all did. Of course it rubbed him the wrong way that they would also follow such brutes like that neanderthal in power armor. It made the organization as a whole difficult to take seriously.
He was done with this little episode however. Unless something were to call his attention back the apprehension of the thief, Yusuke would begin walking off. He looked up at the purple sky. Upon arriving, the new hue that filled heavens had served as an inspiration for new art pieces. Now he just wished it was blue.
How do you kill that which has no life?
huzzaaaaaaaah
The Fusilier didn't even bother to give Yusuke a response- when faced with his accusation, she just shrugged and rolled her eyes- but the thief did reply by sucking up his tears and trying his best to at least look respectable. Even as the Fusilier struggled to break him free of his ice prison so she could cuff his hands, he just stared at Yusuke's back, gulping back each and every sob.
"That was impressive." Leaning against a nearby wall, away from the Fusilier's sight was a woman clad in a red dress and sporting a green tattoo of a dragon over most of her body. "When they told me to check on what was making a ruckus, I didn't think I'd see a kid with a ghost or something."
She scratched at her tattooed cheek (the word 'house' written in Japanese) and raised an eyebrow. "You're a kid, right? It's just that I have to deal with a lot of 'looks thirteen, is actually seventeen thousand year old' types nowadays. Doesn't hurt to check."
It seemed that this outburst by the strange woman was taking a lot longer than Xola had first anticipated. While she didn't think she was an impatient person, quite the opposite really, she would like to at least get her meeting scheduled before she'd have to wait around. A blond-haired child was joining in, adding his own foreboding prophecy to the inhuman woman's own. While interesting, the Chimera Ant decided that it was something to put on the back-burner of her mind for now. She had a more important prophecy to look in to.
It was then that she noticed that she was getting some interesting looks from the spider-woman in question. Most that were used to having and facing people with only two eyes might have a difficult time telling, but Xola could see it. She watched as the woman adjusted her dress, giving a brief flash of grey-toned skin. It was clear that she was trying to get her attention, but why? Had she noticed that the Ant wasn't exactly human as well? Maybe this poor woman was just looking to befriend someone similar to herself. Far be it for Xola to ignore her cry for help then.
A pleasant smile spread to Xoladroskisce's lips as she slowly and calmly walked forward towards the spider-woman. She gave a slight nod to the new addition to the world and introduced herself. "Hello. I am sorry for intruding, but I could not help but overhear some of your conversation earlier. If you are new to Balder and are looking for somewhere to stay, I may be able to help you. My name is Xoladroskisce, or just Xola for short, and I run a boarding house for those new to our city. That way they are able to settle in and find their place here while still having a roof over their heads and running water. I can show you once I finish my business with the mayor, if you would like that is."
One Brunch Man
Western Quadrant Interrogation Room
Wolnee would find himself confronted with the sharp tinge of ammonia, springing from a small vial of smelling salts set on the table before him and wafting gently in the dark room’s still, dust-hanging air like a perverse form of incense. A soft waft of a breeze filtered in from somewhere up above, though Wolnee would be hard-pressed to tell from where on account of the light shining into his eyes, courtesy of a reflecting mechanism up top that made up for a lack of proper interior lighting with a rope-and-pulley system that ensured the sun was always shining into his eyes. Even any attempt by Wolnee to shield his face would meet resistance, due to the simple-yet-familiar rope bindings keeping his wrists bound behind him, clenching his forearms tight around the back of the wooden chair he would find himself sitting in.
Wolnee would nevertheless be able to make out the silhouettes of two figures in front of him, one who would be sitting at the wide table across from him, and the other who would be standing in one of the far corners, at attention. Were Wolnee keyed into his friend’s physical idiosyncrasies, he might recognize the far figure as Meiddus, doing whatever he would do when told he would be allowed in on the interrogation as long as he remained quiet until he was spoken to. The other figure would be an unassuming, humanoid silhouette, with his elbows resting on the top of the table and his fingers clasped gently in front of his face. This figure would remain unknown, and unknowable to the captive Fusilier, until the figure had proof enough that Wolnee was awake and lucid before reaching to an object by his side. “Would you like,” the man said, words thick with an accent worlds away and a quiet neutrality that exuded menace the way a tiger’s face was incapable of smiling, “some water?” He held the glass out to the man’s lips, close enough for him to take a sip, and to catch a momentary glimpse of the man’s face.
Were Wolnee one to pay attention, he might recognize the man as one of N’Jadaka’s foremost shadow operatives, who spent more time than not in the wilderness beyond Balder’s borders, reporting on the movement of the flora and fauna and tracking incoming threats. He may have seen the man at N’Jadaka’s side every now and again, the two men sharing a sense of tense familiarity that spoke of something outside of and above his paygrade. But most of all he’d be able to glean that having this man, sitting in front of him, even cordially pressing a glass of water to his lips, was a very, very bad thing. His existence was as shrouded in shadow as those that slid over his shoulders even now, so much so that only his first name was even known to the public:
Zemo.
Wayne School Courtyard
Miki was… conflicted.
The Devilman watched the interplay between the various teachers, biting her tongue at each new development as more facts came to light. The nurse was no doubt the premier authority on medical maladies, it was true, but wasn’t it more likely that this thing, that had reached inside so many of them and used what it found to its own advantage, had its roots in something beyond science altogether? But Miki also didn’t really have any authority in the situation, not like her husband, who could send a dozen men scrambling with a nod of his head. This was an issue that was better handled by the school’s principal, though Miki didn’t like the idea of leaving something so important in someone else’s hands any more than she liked the idea of sending the kids home, away from where she and Noel and all the other teachers could single-handedly keep them safe the way they’d been doing for years.
In that way, it made Miki’s life immensely easier when Akane showed up.
Miki tried her best to remain neutral when it came to the Generals, a precarious position to take when she was married to one and teaching the child of another. But that was N’Jadaka’s world, not hers, and as far as she was concerned, the machinations of the Generals were as far above her head as that of any normal citizen, as it should be. But Miki didn’t know Akane as a General—she knew the woman as someone who respected the rights of people, no matter what they looked like. She knew that her Black Panther husband wasn’t going to be happy once he heard about this perceived transgression, but the best part about both of their bodies was that they could handle a little bruising—even and especially when it came to their egos.
“I… agree with her.” She said, nodding not at Anna, but to the woman she was clinging to. “When I said that this school was the safest place in Balder for those kids to be, I meant it. Whatever’s waiting for them out there, there’s no way we can protect them as well as we can here.” The Devilman began shaking her head, sending her braided ponytail whipping back and forth like the anxious flicking of a lion’s tail. “Keep him in your office, away from the other kids if you have to, but I don’t agree that sending the rest of the kids away is going to solve anything. When Lísu’s parents get here, we can ask some more definite answers about where he’s been and what could have caused this.”
She made to rest a hand on Noel’s shoulder, offering the blonde a smile. “Hopefully Vigil will be back soon. When that happens, we can keep the kids on campus and just—go about our day. Stressing them out isn’t going to help anyone, and as far as they know, Lísu just had a bit of an episode. I think we’ll have this whole thing wrapped up by the end of the school day anyway, don’t you?” Whatever Miki’s intentions, her last phrase ended with her eyes on Akane, her tone buzzing with an edge that needed some kind of reassurance from someone, anyone, who actually knew what they were doing.
Northern Quadrant Ranch
Anansi squealed and drew her hand back as the skewer clattered against the countertop, the quiver to her clenched lip growing more pronounced even as her eyes faded back into a normal pattern. Taking a final sniff of the tantalizing treat, Anansi pushed the crate to the side and bent to place it back on the ground—only to shoot straight back up at his announcement, her smile glowing brighter than the innards of the container at her feet. “Lily and Mrs. Owari are on their way?! That’s great news!” Anansi clapped her hands together energetically, then leaned forward pleadingly onto the countertop. “We don’t have to go yet, do we? Let’s wait for them to come back, and then we can all go out together! Here, let me show you something—”
Moving over to where the older Pokémon trainer was eating his breakfast, Anansi turned around at the same time she shrugged off the top of her jacket covering her shoulders, uncovering the dark flesh beneath along with the design balanced between her shoulder blades. Scrawled in ink even darker than her skin tone, varied spots and angled blotches hinted at the shape and structure of a large black cat without ever explicitly coming together all the way or connecting overmuch at any one point—like a puzzle with several pieces artfully removed. The shapes themselves additionally took the form of the different letters of Anansi’s name, starting with the purposefully slightly-malformed head-shape that used the big cat’s open jaws, craned-downward head, and piercing eye to form the A; all the way over to where the tail idly flicked upward as though casting off the day's sweat, the miscellaneous fluid gathering and hanging eternally over the straight pillar of the tail into a glistening black heart, forming the dot in the name’s i.
“Pretty cool, right?” Anansi said with an almost experimental glee, craning her head over her shoulder in an attempt to gauge his reaction. “I didn’t do this one myself, obviously, but it’s based off of a design I drew up, and I think it turned out pretty well!” Anansi fidgeted in place as a flush managed to penetrate her complexion, shrugging the bunched-up fabric back up over her shoulders as if suddenly self-conscious about the whole affair. “I-If you want, sometime, I could… maybe do one for you, too? L-like, um, I dunno, maybe that really big, twenty-legged, three-pincered bug you saw on your journey with the Original Warriors? Though, if I’m being honest, I’m not really sure where you’d put the third pair… Maybe, up here?” Anansi put her hands on either side of her skull and began scissoring her extended index fingers together, miming a hypothetical third pair of jaws sticking out of the area, while she looked at the man with an increasingly nervous, pursed expression as she waited for his response.
Edited by Uncandescent on Jul 10th 2018 at 3:05:08 PM
If I had that kind of power, I'd have dropped a meteor on your house ages ago~
Balder Capitol Building, Reception: Jeez, Twist His Arm Why Don't Ya? XP
Surprisingly, the frustrated demand for the message worked better than the gentle coaxing. Perhaps now that the lad wasn't overclocking his brain with possible solutions to this riddle, he could shift his perceptions a bit. He could pretend the spider-lady in front of him was not a fairly monstrous lady and more of an authoritative figure. A commanding officer, of sorts.
So he obeyed. Standing taller, and with projection to carry even to the hooded figure just outside the Champion's peripherals, he announced:
"When the one who sees all sees nothing but darkness."
Well that wasn't so hard, was it? Link rested his shoulders, satisfied.
"That would be Hylia: Protector of life, and Goddess of Hyrule. As her chosen warrior I think the message's referring to me. She can't see me on this world, so she might be sending warnings through the other newcomers."
Link's sapphire eyes shifted from the spider-lady to Asriel, but he made a conscious effort to avoid the woman with green hair. He could hope that Mr. Dreemurr could sympathize a little, but there was no way that Mayor Casseiopeia could relate to something as crazy as a boy stumbling into a strange world with a destiny to save it from certain doom.
"...and if that's the case." Link continued, "I might have an idea what your piece of the message means, Miss."
Balder City, Construction Sight: See Previous Subtitle
The pedestrian blew a calm breath of air from his nostrils, but complied with the bodyguard's request. No need to waste time on lines like "If you insist"; the fact she pushed him back said that she obviously did.
So he turned around, scuffed his shoes once more in the few steps journey back to Mr. Flowerbottle, and waited for the millionaire to finish his musings.
"Most observant, Mr. Flowerbottle." said the pedestrian with a small, meaningless, nod of the head. "I tend not to frequent Mr. Wake's establishment, but I have deemed it necessary to attend a few of the more...affluent events."
He paused, knowing full well that the sickly-colored man wasn't interested in this detail.
"My name is Martin Hatch
◊, Mr. Flowerbottle." he smiled with a small, meaningful, nod of the head—the subtle sort one uses to humor someone struggling with a simple question. "I am the CEO of the Interplanetary Transportation and Cultivation House; ITCH, for short. Now if there is nothing else, I shall be on my way. I have business with the Chancellor."
huzzaaaaaaaah
The sight of an approaching Xola brought a smile to the spider-lady's lips, and her hands, which were usually wafting to and fro in an attempt to visualize her boredom, suddenly were twiddling their fingers together. "Xoladroskisce. What a beautiful name. Mine's Ebopor... but people just call me Ebby." With a nod towards Asriel and the Hyllian, she raised an eyebrow. "I'm a bit busy with someone else, so yes, I will take you up on your offer after you're finished. You know how these things are, right? Just like at Dawn?"
Her eyebrows shot up, and her eyes scrutinized Xola's reaction to that last word, but someone else was demanding her attention. And Ebby was many things, but disrespectful wasn't one of them. She listened halfheartedly to the Hylian's explanation, ready to point out that the voice she heard was most definitely not a goddess... but another voice reminded her of the not-quite-human lady besides her, and how she had more pressing matters to deal with.
"And what would that be?" Ebby asked Link (or more precisely, asked in Link's vague direction).
"Charmed, Mr. Hatch. What a lovely name that is, hm?" Fourblossom said to one of his security guards, who just grunted in response. "Martin Hatch. Martin Hatch." He repeated, letting the words find their rightful place in his mouth. "Oh, I just love saying your name! And I don't say that to many people."
"Unfortunately, your name won't stop me from interrupting you." Fourblossom's expression turned sour, and he motioned for the security guard that had 'insisted' on Hatch's return to stay a few feet behind him. "That is... unless you tell me exactly what ITCH's plans are for our dear Chancellor."
Fourblossom contemplated his nails, sucking some air through his teeth. "Because, Mr. Hatch-" He giggled and shook his body a little after saying the word. "-your plans could conflict with my plans. Tell me what your boss wants, and we can work together to avoid all that messy, messy conflict. I think we both want that, don't we?"
Though his feet didn't move, Meiddus couldn't help but clench his left hand and bite down on his right hand's thumb, all in an attempt to calm himself down so he could be there for his friend. That, more than anything his groggy mind was able to register, gave Wolnee the necessary clue to figure out that he wasn't in the clear, and that his troubles had, if anything, just begun.
Then, he saw the face of the mysterious man. Every Fusilier had a theory about who the General's secretive operative truly was. Some theorized that he was a stray, someone N'Jadaka had picked up and molded into a super spy (those people usually saw their General as some sort of god's gift to Balder). Some said that he was a representative of the Commander, here to make sure N'Jadaka wouldn't stray from his intended mission. And one transfer from the Eastern gates, a grumpy man who would always mention how much better his former General was, theorized that he was the General's little secret beau.
Which explained why Wolnee's first reaction was to look at the water, then at the man, then at the water, before finally closing his dry lips and breathing in through his nose. "You're not... poisoning me, are you?"
Edited by Stratofarius on Jul 11th 2018 at 7:41:09 AM
Balder Capitol Building, Receptionist Desk: Detective Link is On the Case!
Link tuned out all distractions to hear the spider-woman's message; no small feat, considering the magical entry of a woman high enough to give orders to the guards.
When the one who sees all sees nothing but darkness...
And once the honeymoon ends, the unmarked will complete its reaping...
They were fragments, of course. Judging from the structure, there were still more pieces to the puzzle to find. Still, there was enough to start imagining the missing pieces.
Link remained silent as the woman explained the message further, though he blocked even those details out for now. Hylia could sound like anyone or anything She wanted, so there was no point in exploring that point; no doubt She just wanted this message to be taken seriously.
When the one who sees all sees nothing but darkness.
That could be Hylia Herself—it wasn't like there were any other omniscient beings in Hyrule to compete for the role. Though if that were the case, seeing nothing but darkness couldn't offer anything hopeful. Could it mean the Calamity consumes everything, or that Hylia could possibly die somehow?
Maybe there was a third option...maybe the "sight" in the message wasn't referring to Hyrule, but to Link himself. It seemed possible that Hylia couldn't extend Her reach out to this planet; that would explain the fragmented messages, and the need to share it with other newcomers to the planet. Hylia might not be able to watch over Her chosen hero on Balder, but She could definitely send warnings to him. Like messages in a bottle!
And once the honeymoon ends, the unmarked will complete its reaping...
That sounded like the conclusion, unless this unmarked was planning to sew again. Unmarked by what, though? Then there was another problem with this message...
"What's a honeymoon?" Link asked Asriel. Judging by the gears clearly turning in his head, it seemed safe to assume there wasn't a honeymoon tradition in Hyrule. That, or Link was so dense he didn't even know what the first stage of a marriage was called.
He didn't pay attention to the reactions; the Champion had gone back to a detail the woman had brought up before the message...
"You've only been here for four days?" he asked, once again unsure exactly which eye or set of eyes to focus on. When the spider-lady confirmed it, Link turned to Lonely Willow with just as much urgency as he'd expressed when he first arrived.
"Do you know if anyone else has done this? Relayed a message like this?"
He paused, thought, and amended.
"Someone new to the planet?"