Andradite - Maven's shop

Andradite had processed this revelation with a slight frown, head cocking slightly to the side. So Maven had been lying - by omission, her Sensei had been quite clear that that still counted - but she had to admit his reasons seemed to make sense if you looked at it from the perspective of an animal.

"I don't think I'm mad at you, Maven." She said eventually, looking back up at him, her expression returning to its usual cool. "So thank you. For the information, and for buying me."

She gave the old man a polite bow, before turning and hurrying after the others.

—

Mama Jupiter's

So, this was the fabled 'Colossal Cabaret'. The one place - besides the labyrinth - that Rufus had always told her to keep away from. That made her a little nervous, but... if it was for the quest, it would be okay, right? How could she not take this opportunity to snoop around?

Minors were forbidden from entering, but if she understood the unwritten, or sometimes written-elsewhere, rules of Dive (as narrated by Rufus), that just meant people younger than 18? It made sense. If this place was anything like the bar, it was probably a good idea to keep people that young and small out, for safety's sake.

Unbuckling her sword, she had headed towards the doors and the bouncers when she caught the tail end of Asmodeus and Magicaloid's conversation. She paused and looked between her small, metal and tall, rounded party members.

"Really? You look quite clean to me." Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she looked back at the building. "Are we going to get dirty in there? Is that why Rufus always told me keep away?"

Edited by LittleMako on Dec 2nd 2018 at 3:12:36 AM

Mama Jupiter's

Asmodeus looked at Andy with confusion, before realizing that this rock robot(?) may not be aware of what a figure of speech is.

"I didn't mean that literally," she corrected Andy. "Dirty in this case means lewd, because we're going into a strip club. Don't worry, something tells me I'll be doing all the stripping here."

Streets of Dive

Magicaloid’s expression perked up considerably as Asmodeus took the hint, the job, and the lead, the robot girl falling in step behind the purple-haired seductress as the woman showed off a level of fervor for the whole situation that Makoto frankly hadn’t even thought to hope for. It, just as frankly, might have even been a little bit too much, as Asmodeus casually rattled off all of the subtext of their little encounter like courtesy subtitles for the metaphor-impaired, to the very person they were doing all this for in the first place. Magicaloid’s already-artificial features froze stiffly in place, before attempting to reach out a friendly hand to cup Andy's shoulder while falling in step behind the succubus.“That’s—I—look,” Magicaloid said, her words at first less an effort to communicate than a way to fill the verbal space between them before the mineral-based girl could ask any potential questions about terms like ‘lewd’, ‘strip club’, or especially ‘stripping’, “there’s actually something we need to talk about. If the guy who originally did all that to you is still hanging around in there, then there’s nothing really stopping him from recognizing you and either running, or doing whatever it was that he did in the first place. It'd probably be better if you stayed out here, with her—” She said, gesturing toward Kayne’s rummaging form, “—or, at the very least, if you disguised some of your. Y'know. Rockiness. Better."

She braced her fist contemplatively against her chin like a breaker against the surf, before a wave washed over her expression. "Did you ever end up getting those towels for Rufus?" She asked, a gleam flashing in eyes as pink as the towels themselves.

Edited by Uncandescent on Dec 3rd 2018 at 3:05:00 PM

Girimehkala, Old Maken's Crock of Shit

Girimehkala muttered an ancient swearword, twisted and inelegant, which killed a small family of cockroaches living under the floorboards and permanently traumatised a passing seagull, but holstered his pistol regardless. His trigger finger was was itching, so he moisturised it thoroughly as Kaguya departed, grumbling privately.

He should have seen this coming, really. Maken could talk his way through a corkscrew sideways, and possessed the honed ability of most bullshit artists to find an audience who only listened to every third word. For a moment Girimehkala forgot the delve and pondered the taste of offal bursting up through buckling metal, but knew he'd have to settle for the look on that shiny little faceplate when he was right and she wasn't. Shiny and chrome. He hated shiny and chrome.

In a moment of illuminated spite, he reached up and placed exactly two crypt coins onto the tallest shelf he could reach, and chewed absent-mindedly on the most expensive necklace he could find. He'd been promised an excuse, at least. He had nothing to do but wait for it.

Mama Jupiter's

“Well this is... most certainly an establishment,” Kyxe muttered, having remained respectfully quiet up until this point. Primarily because the words being passed to and from the rest of the party were confusing her almost as much as they were Andratite.

“What is a ‘strip club’? Are they common establishments? Because if so I am already uneasy,” she remarked, tilting her head and scanning the bouncers from head to toe for any signs of weakness. Just in case, after all. “The music is strange and the lights are obnoxious. Plus there's a smell. I'm not fond of it.”

At the mentions of towels of all things, she warbled to herself and pressed her fingers against the collar of her jacket—detaching the long coat via the release of several hidden clasps. Assumedly. There was no click or any other audible indication. In fact, it looked more like it just... detached itself. Like it used to be a solid piece but then was made separate.

It was all very odd.

“For usage as an emergency blanket. Insulated interior and all,” she offered helpfully, holding up the black garment expectantly to Andratite. “Will this do?”

Out, on the fields streets

Garbhán let out a low whistle. Normally in his age, places such as Mama Jupiter's had been more... overt and extreme in their purpose but after some hefty and intensive listening, Garbhán felt like he was ready to chime in. "It's the kinda place that a Corsair wastes all 'a his share 'fore we hit seas again. Sure I'll fit in damned fine in a place like this... Ah an' don't worry, if my experience is somethin' to go by, the smell's actually pretty ripe." he reflected, stroking his chin with his mechanical arm.

"An' don't worry kids. You get we into trouble, Uncle Garbhán can start a fight or two so y'ain't gotta fight one yerself." he assured them, with a breathy chuckle and a grin that would allow him to pass himself off as 'joking' if he were pressed on the issue.

Old Maken's Shop Of Mysteries

"You look young, boss-lady," smirked Old Maken, "but your soul sure ain't. Oughta be a few more wrinkles in that pretty brow of yours, naw?"

He stopped to rearrange a few plastic carabiners with his stick, and said:

"If you're asking about Andy, I could answer that question a whole yonk of ways. Not much like her anywhere on Dive. Nothing quite as shiny, or half as nice. As you can see, there's nothing even faintly jewelish in this shop at all... at least, nothing to excite the tastes of a con-now-soar like you."

The carabiners clicked down, arranged precisely in the colors of the rainbow.

"Tell me, boss-lady. What'd the scroll say?"

Outside Mama Jupiter's Colossal Cabaret

Inside the crate was a scattering of cogs, and what looked to be the remains of a worn-out, juice-drained blaster. It was rusty, and the trigger barely slid, but the red pulse it gave out showed that it still functioned, at least barely. As a matter of fact, the power slot looked like it would take the standard Artifacts Inc. power-cells held in Old Maken's shop.

"Oh, that," said the first bouncer. "We were going to give it back to him."

"He never came out," said the second bouncer. "Finder's keepers, I suppose."

"What happened to your arm?"

Inside Mama Jupiter's Colossal Cabaret

If the Forever and a Day was a wild riot, and if Old Maken's Shop of Mysteries was a cryptic whisper, then Mama Jupiter's Colossal Cabaret was a bawdy song blared out the windows at full blast. The insane, squawking music had given way to a strangely coherent wash of twentieth-century jazz, covered by a house band of overlarge starfish: it sank through the glowing floorboards and the stained jackets, striking the ear at all angles. Rainbow light, psychedelic in its affect, beamed from a spiky tetrahedron suspended from the ceiling, cutting the stage and the dancing girls like a jeweler's saw. The clientele was largely gang members and assorted seedy males; the bear in the clown costume was waving its paws with drunk abandon in the corner. Drinks were being served, toted by tired-looking waitresses in skimpy orange maid outfits; but unlike the impossible variety seen at Rum-Eyed Rufus's, the drinks all looked like tankards of the same brown swill.

And then there were the girls. There were four of them, laughing and gyrating to the song on poles: a comely blonde dressed like an Appalachian milkmaid, a doe-eyed brunette in a 50s swimsuit, a smirking redhead in a very anachronistic chainmail bikini, and a raven-haired, white-skinned goddess clad in what looked like a gigantic bacon suit.

"It's for the bear. He likes bacon." This remark came from Filia's shoulder, a gravely female voice with little mirth in it. "You look like a nice girl. What're you doing in my joint?"

Mama Jupiter - for it was clearly she - was a woman about as large as her name suggested. Her stained orange blouse billowed with fat. Her striped skirt looked more like a parachute than anything else. There were curlers in her gray hair, ringed with copper, and an alarmingly thick cigar smoked dramatically in her mouth. But her voice was dry and flat, the opposite of boisterous, and her eyes were almost rheumy in the rainbow light.

"Ooh, honey!" came a skinhead's voice. "Now you're a sight for sore eyes, baby! I wanna feel those horns on my..."

Mama Jupiter snapped around, staring at Asmodeus, then at the offending man. The gang member went as white as his singlet.

"Cat-call my customers again and you're not getting out. Capiche?"

"Yes, Mama," nodded the skinhead.

"And you'll be buying another round of drinks for your friends."

"Of course, Mama."

"That'll teach you not to ogle my girls," said the gargantuan woman. "Now, you" - and here she turned her imposing gaze on Asmodeus herself - "what are you doing here in that get-out? Looking for work, are we?"

Edited by troydenite on Dec 7th 2018 at 1:38:13 AM

Mama Jupiter's Colossal Cabaret

“As if the exterior wasn't an assault on the senses enough...” Kyxe winced, rubbing her eyes as a protective membrane slid into place over them. “This is your... music? Odd. Very odd. Notably different than what was being played in the other establishment. How many variations of one thing do you deem necessary to have?” she wondered, tilting her head to one side as she inspected the starfish curiously. “...Fascinating.”

Her gaze continued to wander about, taking in the sights of the establishment as she warbled in interest. She didn't seem what to make of it at first. Until the dull murmur of many conversations finally filtered out into her ears—just as one of the men catcalled to Asmodeus.

All at once, it seemed to click. Kyxe's body seemed to suddenly tense up as she scanned the room yet again; noticeably lingering between the dancing girls and their enthusiastic audience. The slits on her neck opened as wide as they could, and a low growl—matching the deepest bass tones of the background music—began to emanate from her throat.

“Q'il trassi das mürre. Sav'lii til kun—ni'jourrei it'kantirra,” she droned as if in a trance, arcs of electricity beginning to spark across her arm as she took a step forward. Her words were indistinguishable—the gill-like structures on her throat seeming to exude completely differing vowels and consonants as to what her mouth was doing—but her intent was clear. The look in her eyes was like that of a tiger waiting to pounce.

"Blown off by a mortar," Kayne said casually. "It got better, and an upgrade."

"Oh, what's this?" Kayne rummaged through the cogs and found a barely-serviceable blaster. She turned it this way and that, even looking through the barrel in a blatant violation of gun safety rules.

"Model X312 Blaster. Slightly outdated...salvaging parts seems to be the best option," she said to no one in particular, unscrewing its screws with the flat end of a metal scrap.

"Power cell slot seems fine," she murmured, detaching and placing it in a burlap scrap she found on the ground. "Firing mechanisms..." Those went into the scrap too, and was wrapped up with a surprisingly sturdy rope of braided grass.

"Slow day?" she said idly, trying to strike up a conversation with the bouncers.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Dec 6th 2018 at 11:00:17 AM

...Not what she expected. That's fine.

"You must have a good mind, telling that just from my words alone," Kaguya said, smiling and stalling to come up with a proper rebuttal that wasn't just sending the elephant in to do her work for her. "It's true, I am quite old. Though, it's rude to expect a lady to simply hand out that information, you see."

Whether this man was merely omniscient within this shop or, possibly, had some prior incidents with the same parchment, Kaguya wasn't ready to care just yet.

"...The scroll said that you were not who you seemed to be," Kaguya plainly responded. "Am I to take your word over its own?"

Inside Mama Jupiter's Colossal Cabaret

The rotund woman who owned the place appeared not long after they entered. She seemed to miss the Kindred; for Lamb, who was small and lithe, it was easy to overlook her, especially in a place such as this, where her fur and hooves were not altogether unusual. To overlook Wolf? It was indeed a crowded, bizarre place.

"Greetings, Mama." Lamb bowed slightly and addressed the woman by what she assumed at this point was the owner's name, rather than an indication of her motherhood of the patrons. "We seek information, regarding Andradite, the person made of stone. We believe the man who sold her to Old Maken, a man from the Red Ring, may be here, or have been here. If you have anything with his scent, it would be much appreciated."

At the same time, Wolf heard the rumble of feral rage, and matched it with his own pleased growl. He hovered behind Kyxe, his deep voice loudly 'whispering' into her ear. "Yes. Thrash. Fight. Kill. Do not go quietly."

Ethereal light dripped from his maw, as he 'drooled' at the prospect of wild violence.

Streets of Dive -> Mama Jupiter’s Colossal Cabaret

Magicaloid glanced between Andradite and the offered cloak, as if carefully studying its inherent towel-ness, before eventually up and shrugging. “As long as it has good coverage, I don’t really care. Just make sure to cover up all the…” Magicaloid made a sweep over her own scalp, indicating her own non-existent hair in place of Andy’s wildly-reflective locks, before continuing along with Asmodeus toward the establishment proper.

So taken was the robot girl with getting her cover story straight—To be honest sirs, I stopped keeping track after about 50!—that Makoto actually had to double-take when she realized she was already on her way down into the club, utterly unimpeded by the guards above. I guess that goes to show what good company will get you whoa. Magicaloid stopped, blinded by the spectacle, and not just because the oddly-shaped disco ball (disco pyramid?) took that moment to shine a light across her eyes; the glitz, glamour, and—yes—razzle-dazzle of Mama Jupiter’s cabaret was just shy of overwhelming, contrasting Rufus’s mere splash of multiversal weirdness with a full-on mainline IV drip.

Magicaloid had just about gathered her wits (and her eyes) back into her head enough to marvel at the dancer who was literally posing as a piece of meat, when the unspoken question was answered by the arrival of the person Magicaloid had firmly expected to spend the next hour trying to find. The robot girl froze, trapped between feeling like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but by a long-lost relative she’d been really hoping to see anyway, a moment that lasted just long enough for one of the masked figures that’d accompanied them to give up the goat—and the farmer—and every single acre of land the farm was built on. Magicaloid’s mouth, still hanging open, resisted the urge to grind her teeth together in frustration (or on the hooved woman’s face) before instead making her reply. “Who we left back at the store, of course.” She said, moving her metallic hand behind her back and making to poke to the side and backwards, hoping that the stone girl would get the hint to stay at the back of the pack. She then turned her slitted pink eyes to Lamb—and Irra, once she noticed the brewing development between Wolf and Kyxe—and jerked her head in the murderous duo’s direction, conveying in no uncertain non-verbal terms with the widening of her eyes and the raising of nonexistent eyebrows, Hurry up and reel in your pet maniac before they kill someone. Or worse, get us kicked out!

Turning back to the proprietor in question, Magicaloid tried to inch her way back into damage control territory by literally inching closer to Asmodeus. “But that’s not the only reason we’ve come, of course.” She said, visions dancing through her head of the woman before them colluding with the very organization in question, or just being offended in a more mundane but no less impeding way. “We were also hoping to learn more about your club. Asmodeus here was even hoping to try out, isn’t that right?” She would then attempt to nudge the succubus with her elbow, hoping against hope that the extra month of free drinks would be enough prompting for the other woman to come through.

Edited by Uncandescent on Dec 7th 2018 at 9:32:25 AM

Andradite - Mama Jupiter's

The gem looked up at Asmodeus intently, blinking a few times as the wheels turned in her distributed microbial consciousness.

"Oh, I see. What does lew-"

That line of questioning was swiftly and mercifully cut short as Magicaloid intervened, Andy leaning down slightly as the metal girl put an arm around her shoulder and pointed out what she had missed. What if the gem-smashing bandit was right there inside?

This is why she currently making her way down into the club, her leggy form shrouded underneath Kyxe's overly large jacket, the collar of which she'd pulled up over her head into a makeshift hood. Surely now no-one would recognize her. She tried not to clink too loudly as she descended the stairs near the rear of the group.

The towels would have to wait, she was on an investigation.

Fortunately for the frantically-signalling Magicaloid, Andy had gotten distracted almost as soon as they entered the club proper, hanging back slightly and looking around in fascination.

Asmodeus, Mama Jupiter's

Wow, Andy really didn't know what the concept of lewdness was? Granted, she appeared to be an inorganic rock person, so... sexuality probably wasn't a thing for her people. My, what a horrifying prospect!

Oh right, Mama Jupiter. That's why they were here in the first place. It was time for Azzie to strut her stuff, to shake her booty as the Six Headed Beast chanted demonic hymns about the great and powerful lord of demons. Oh wait, humans probably didn't have that as part of their strip clubs. Damn, mortal culture truly is lacking.

"Yes, that's correct," Asmodeus nodded. "I'm hoping to become a dancer at your fine establishment. Hopefully you'll find I have the necessary qualifications."

There probably was not a person in the building more uncomfortable than Filia. The dragon priestess had never envisioned that she would find herself in a place of ill repute like this one in her life.The permanent red tinge to her cheeks could attest to that. When an unexpected voice came from over her shoulder, the priestess jumped in surprise, letting out a squeak as she whirled around.

Looking around for help, she stood a bit taller when someone else answered the question for her. "Th-Thats right. We are here looking for someone to help our ally." she added.

Old Maken's Shop Of Mysteries

"Now, that's a real question, boss-lady. A question well worth running through your pretty head. I was wondering what that scroll said, but turns out you can read it! Alright, guess I'll come clean."

Old Maken grinned.

"It's real simple, boss-lady. I'm with the Red Ring. I received Andy because that's my job: to sell slaves and launder coin. Your friend just happened to be my first assignment."

It was like he was confessing to a predilection for peanut butter.

"But it's also not that simple. I'm a double-agent, see. A plant. Just another worm working for my real boss, the man whose insignia that rust-red eye is. That scroll was a clue, or at least, my real boss's way of making jokes. He's not too fond of the Red Ring, and he has certain interests in Dive. Just like he does in every other Room."

If he was lying, the man made no sign of it. His heartbeat was completely even. There was a very clear implication in his voice, as if Kaguya and Girimehkala were meant to know exactly who he was talking about from his words alone, but whether or not they would was another matter entirely.

"And let me tell you, there's a whole raft of porkers I could have sold you other than that, so don't go doubting me now. Not when I've just put my life in danger twenty times over today. What sort of liar would tie himself up with the Red Ring and Artifacts Inc.?"

But Girimehkala, with his acute nose, would smell a strange scent from the old shopkeep. A scent quite unrelated to anything that had come up before, boiling underneath the acrid tang of dead skin like cheddar.

The scent of black magic.

Outside Mama Jupiter's Colossal Cabaret

"Not particularly," said the first bouncer.

"Could be slower," said the second, taking a step forwards and stretching his arms.

"Don't usually get anyone to talk to."

"Oof."

And with that mild observation, the second bouncer flew right past the first and tumbled down the stairs, landing on the last step with a muffled crash.

"Wand of Force," said the first bouncer, cracking his knuckles and walking forwards. "See it all the time. Child's play. Stay put, girlie, I'll handle this."

"See," chirped a young boy's voice, "I'd take you up on that, but the scrolls are in my other pocket. Blink."

The bouncer glanced up. A blue-cloaked figure, no more than five feet tall, billowed right out of thin air and fell like a coconut.

"Oof," said the bouncer, and then nothing. The baby-blue cloak dusted his hands off, tapped his victim a few times to check for signs of life, then flashed a bright grin at Kayne. His hair gleamed golden beneath his hood. The wand, a small twiggy thing with a tassel on the end, bounced perkily in his right hand.

"Hey there, cutie. You seem like a nice girl, staying outside like this. I'm just here for something my boss owns. One sec."

He reached into his cloak with his left hand, felt around, then pulled out a small white scroll, his fingers firmly on its waxen seal. He popped the seal with a small penknife, rolled the scroll out on his victim's head, then ran the wand in his right hand over the fresh parchment.

"Recharge," he read. "By the way, we should totally get some milk after this. Love the hat."

A rust-red eye, shackled through its sclera with eight chains, burnt through the scroll, blinked once, then crumbled to ash on the wind. The wand winked white. The boy flicked it a few times, snapping his wrist, then nodded in satisfaction. He got off the bouncer.

"So. Seen any shiny green gem people around lately?"

Inside Mama Jupiter's Colossal Cabaret

Without so much as blinking at Asmodeus's appearance, Mama Jupiter took a drag of her cigar, spat a black blot into a nearby spittoon, and finally proceeded to march up and around her. She stared down the succubus' chest, inspected her thighs, pinched her rear, and went over her face three times. She even tweaked each wing.

"We'll have to do something about those feet of yours," she muttered at last. "Horns I understand, but some people do prefer human hoofers."

She scowled at Kindred.

"Not that I have anything against hooves, of course. If you're talking about that piece of rock-candy Rufus sends out on errands, I have no idea. I'd have bought him myself if he had a chest. Stay here and wait if you want, but don't get in anyone's way."

Noticeably, or notably, she seemed completely unfazed by Lamb's mention of the Red Ring.

"And you'll muzzle that mutt of yours, or I'll have the both of you next to the bear. I'm the only one who gets to do violence around here..."

The lead starfish put down its saxophone, squelched off stage, picked up Kyxe and planted her next to the bassist, who swept its limbs in her direction and bowed. There was a weak smattering of applause.

"Like so," said Mama Jupiter, before seizing a passing waitress by the hair and flinging her bodily into the bar. Within the crash was a zap, a bright green flash and a loud tzzsnap - then a lasknife went spiraling across the floor, spitting emerald sparks.

There was a stunned silence. There was nothing save the gurgle of bated breaths, the bubbling of beer, the spinning of the disco tetrahedron, and slightly, ever-so-slightly, the squeak of shaking hands on stripper poles. Even the starfish had shut up.

Mama Jupiter stood over her prey, chins a-quivering. Her eyes were completely flat.

"I've had my eye on you ever since Monday, Claudia. Who paid you off?"

Claudia raised her blue-black head from the bar and spat out a tooth. Her nose was completely ruined, and half her blonde hair had been torn out by the roots. Her bare scalp dripped with blood.

"Doesn't matter, Mama," she burbled. "Doesn't matter. He's giving me coin, real bright blue, Mama, more you've ever seen. I'll take a ship. I'll get off Mariana. I'll go home and I'll see my kids and I'll..."

"Seven years, you stupid girl," said Mama Jupiter. "Is this what I get for all that time? For giving you room and board and a shoulder to cry on? Claudia, your children are dead."

Claudia gasped and gibbered. Her bleeding hands, nails broken and torn, rummaged wildly in her apron.

"We can bring them back. We can bring them all back. He'll get the Orb and then he'll bring them back! It's not just me, Mama!"

"Claudia," said Mama Jupiter. "Claudia, put that thing down! Don't make me do this!"

Claudia pointed the sleek blaster, shrieked, and ran her benefactor through the chest with a winking lance of red.

Edited by troydenite on Dec 14th 2018 at 5:56:54 AM

Mama Jupiter's Colossal Cabaret

Wolf's persuasian did naught but quieten Kyxe instead—as she turned to him with all the confusion of a whale instructed to eat krill. She was perhaps about to comment on the redundancy of his attempts to egg her on, but had been taken by surprise by one of the strange creatures picking her up and carrying her over to the stage. Thankfully for the starfish in question, its hold seemed innocent and gentle enough to warrant no more than a quizzical warble from her. It wasn't until she was sat down next to the bassist did she get the joke—her facial expression finally shifting from blank impassiveness to a narrow-eyed, unamused glare towards the one that had brought her onstage.

“Hilarious.”

And then a waitress was thrown. Kyxe blinked, cocking her head to the side at the sight of the bleeding. So their lifeblood was red. How fascinating. That would explain the differing scent as well. Still metallic, but of a different sort. She wondered if...

BLAM.

Kyxe's face slowly reverted back to a neutral state as the previously-cornered creature turned a weapon onto the owner of the establishment. Some sort of device that produced effects similar to her people's own offensive abilities. Another thing to note down in the journal.

On the other hand, at least she had discovered the actual altür.

Giving the undoubtedly quivering starfish a gentle pat, the rellan quietly hopped off stage, lightning beginning to trail off her as she stalked over to the altür. Once she was in range, she got into a stance—the arcs of plasma fully congealing with an accompanying crackle into a twin pair of heated dagger-shaped constructs.

“Til'strezza al courré. Dandurraltür, escuc alal Seng,” she stated, before tiliting her head to one side and giving Claudia a rubbery imitation of a smile with way too many teeth to be considered the type pleasant. “Perish quietly. Traitor to this establishment, as a Seng I am obligated. Apologies. Working on a translation.”

Edited by Enirboreh on Dec 13th 2018 at 5:24:32 PM

Kayne didn't even flinch at the sound of blaster fire emanating from inside the Cabaret. Her comrades could handle themselves, and running inside would only lead the boy to Andradite. The principal concern as of now was to lead this boy somewhere else less "closer to home," so to speak.

So she just smiled mysteriously and said, "Good show, good show. I like a boy with some tricks up his sleeve. If you know what I mean." She winked coquettishly at him to get the point across.

Looking him up and down with the pretense of judging his physique, Kayne noticed that he did indeed have scrolls in his other pocket. And he was very much matched with her in terms of strength—he was lean and wiry, just like her. Wait—he still had a bit of fat on his cheeks. Okay, maybe a little weaker. That cloak and that wand would also come in handy...

He was with the Red Ring, that was for sure. The Eye-con (Ha!) and his mentioning his "boss" looking for Andradite confirmed it. So Kayne decided to keep up the pretense of flirting and string him along for a little bit.

"I haven't seen any gem people around here," Kayne continued, with a level tone. "Are you perhaps looking to propose to a special somebody?"

Kayne giggled at her own joke. She was also telling the truth—she really hadn't seen Andy. She had Moko's brim tilted over her eyes the whole time while she was at the bar and was too absorbed in the blaster to notice Andy entering the Cabaret. Therefore, Kayne hadn't seen her so far. Not even one facet of her gem body.

"Can't you take some time off of work? Just so we can get to know each other? I'm pretty sure gem people stand out, so that can wait," she asked pleadingly.

The hook was baited. She waited to see if the boy would bite.

Girimehkala, Old Maken's Soon-to-be Charnel House

"A good one," said Girimehkala, who had a lot of nose to follow. "Never would have had figured you for a double agent, you musty old yellow bastard. Congrats. Guess you reckon changes things some, huh?"

His hands were empty and his guns holstered, even his favourites, but he'd thrown his poncho over one shoulder to keep them clear. He shot Kaguya a heavy-lidded glance, somewhere between gruff thanks and relief of duty, and calmly ate a cigarillo. The stench of the arcane was much thicker here, hanging around old Maken like soylent cologne and making his teeth itch.

"It don't. I don't much care who you're with in all this, old man. Don't think Kags does neither. I just like Andy. See, Mama Jupiter's a real hateful old bitch, but she ain't got nothin' her shiny little ass can't handle. Red Ring and your corporate boys, on the other hand, that's another matter. Seein' as you're feelin' all truthful-like, why don't you save us some moonlight and answer the question I asked you the first time? What kinda shit did you just send her out into the middle of?"

Mama Jupiter's

Irra had no idea what was going on. This wasn't a new development; the huntress had been completely out of her depth since they left the drink-store, and had been simply following Lieutenant, who seemed to actually know what was going on.

Then many things happened in a short span of time. A large starfish had grabbed her fellow huntress, then the rotund proprietor of this strange place threw a young woman across the room, before said woman pierced her with a spear of red light.

Within seconds, a Leopard was pouncing at the woman. Irra didn't understand the full context of what had happened, but Lieutenant's words and body language had confirmed that this one was their enemy.

Mama Jupiter's

"He is not a pet." Lamb corrected, not sounding the least bit exasperated or irritated at having to tell another person this.

But Mama Jupiter proceeded to ignore little Lamb, and instead revealed a waitress as an assassin. A cruel profession, taking life away from others. And then a beam of light pierced the large women, dropping her to the floor. The Kindred had seen weapons like this before - created by the mad scientists of the place called Zaun.

Against Wolf, they were powerless. "Mine!" He barked, spurred on by Irra's pouncing to attack Claudia himself, maw opened wide enough to swallow her whole, promising a crushing death should his jaws find purchase.

Lamb merely knelt by the fallen Mama, placing a hand upon the dying woman. "Shine once more, before the end." The circle drew itself around Mama Jupiter and Lamb, and within it death was forbidden. The hole in Mama Jupiter's chest slowly patched itself up. All the while, Lamb hummed a quiet melody.

"...Kags?"

In light of everything else that was going on, Girimehkala's suddenly developed nickname was the oddest. That little puzzled exclamation was all the attention it received though, as she quickly pushed it aside for all the big twists that she saw coming.

"Nevermind. I just want to know this myself," Kaguya said, trying to poke out past the elephant's bigness. "Though maybe it's helpful to us all. Why, if you were so secretive, would you open up like this? It's not like our gang of fresh transplants already has people working against you, or the Red Ring, or whatever weird gang you work for. You seem very accommodating with knowledge, now that we're alone."

Mama Jupiter’s Colossal Cabaret

Magicaloid let out an incredibly un-robot-like sigh of relief as Mama Jupiter proceeded to size Asmodeus up like a show-dog, seemingly unperturbed by the faux-sheep’s faux-paux. Magicaloid watched, teeth skating the edge of her lower lip like a half-extended box-knife, waiting for the verdict—before cocking her head to the side as the massive woman came out against her hooves, of all things. She could wear… shoes, I guess? The magical robot girl pondered, crossing her arms. I mean that seems like a weird line to draw when half of the people in here have oh my GOD—

Magicaloid froze in place as, much like the demoness that she had pinned all of her hopes on, the establishment descended straight into Hell; a waitress, apparently right in the middle of trying to kill her employer just before they got there, did a pretty bad job of it—before all of a sudden, doing a really, really good one. “WHOA—” Magicaloid shrieked, stumbling back, one foot stepping back to brace as the large bulk of woman fell back practically on top of her—not more than her Magical-Girl-granted strength could handle, but a question of her Magical-Girl-mass sent her awkwardly stumbling under the heft of the bulk before making a leap to the side and to freedom.

From there, her heart and her syringe of weapons-grade truth serum hung heavy on her frame, as she saw two of her teammates moving in to send the waitress to actual Hell. And thus far, she’d been able to have a coherent conversation with exactly one of them. “Irra!” Magicaloid would call out, before then attempting to clamp one hand around Mama Jupiter’s prone, beefy wrist, and then leaping forward and using the other to reach out and attempt to thread her fingers through the wraith-like fur of Wolf's lengthy body, hoping to get his attention at the very least. “I need her alive! Aim for the—” Crap, what if that’s where the carotid artery is?! “—arm! The arm with the gun!” If Wolf showed no sign of stopping his murderous trajectory, Magicaloid would then attempt to clamp down on the end of Wolf's tail as well, hopefully before he could reach his target, aiming to use her own body as a link in the chain and the mountainous woman’s bulk as a brace in order to halt the specter of death’s momentum.

Inside Mama Jupiter's

So this was what they called "debauchery". Andradite had heard the word before, and she'd had some theories about what it actually involved, but this trip inside the cabaret hadn't really cleared things up. If anything, she was now suffering from a data overload! Was it the music? The animals wandering around poisoning themselves? Dancing definitely seemed to play a big role. The others were complaining about a smell, and not for the first time Andy found herself wishing she had that particular sense. Was that a part of the puzzle she was missing?

Was sudden random violence also part of debauchery?

Andradite's position at the back of the group meant she hadn't had the best view when things went bad, but the way so many of the club's patrons scurried away or shrank down left the gem in a bit of a clearing, standing and watching the waitress shoot Mama Jupiter with a look of detached surprise. Seeing all her friends leap into action startled her out of her reverie, and with a clink of rustling braids and heavy footfalls, she did the same.

Magicaloid was trying to get the wolfy one to not kill the waitress. Seeing as making people not move was 3/4ths of her job, she figured she'd help out, by wrapping her arms around Wolf's midsection and bracing her feet against the floor.

"Uhm, hey, big wolf person? We might need to talk to that one. Please don't eat them."

Old Maken's Shop Of Mysteries

"But that's where you're wrong, boss-lady," said Old Maken, winking at Girimehkala in a not-entirely-wholesome way. "We're not alone."

The bookcase to his right exploded. There was really no other word for it. The wood splintered and flew in all directions, peppering Kaguya with bits of cup ramen and shards of flashlight. A sizable portion of the third shelf bounced right off Girimehkala's head. Old Maken billowed into a plume of dusky smoke and swept around the pair, shrouding them in darkness.

"They've been scrying this place the whole time, you know. Both of them. Eyes shut!"

There was a purple flash, bright enough to send sunspots careening through Girimekhala's lids and to lightly charbroil Kaguya. Old Maken reformed somewhere to Girimehkala's left, bathed in sweat. His smile was still there, somehow, but scared and sour at the edges.

"See, Giri, you can only be a double-agent if one side doesn't suspect the other. And personally, I don't like the idea of laundering people. I want out."

Stomping through the lamp-lit gloom, covered in carabiners, beanbag filling and violet chronosparks, the lumpen man lugged his sword behind him. Tumors and goiters infested almost every inch of his flesh. His left shoulder was hideously large. His face looked like it had been pulled apart by a pair of giant hands and then superglued together. There was no hair on his body, save for in the sores. Steel glinted from every part of him, bolts and nuts and pus-pouring rivets, and a huge purple sphere festered in his back.

"I hate the Red Ring and everything they stand for," said Old Maken. "I took the deal with Artifacts Inc. because I thought that I could fight back that way, destroy the Ring from inside. Get them for what they did to my wife and kids. Turns out that when you get a girl delivered to you in a box, all in pieces, your nerve tends to find out how much it can take."

The lumpen man gurgled. His sword, a grotesque, guardless slab more wedge than blade, rattled and sniggered on the floorboards. It looked like the snapped sternum of some mechatronic beast, hooked by tube to the core that joined them.

"I want out," said Old Maken again. "I was an idiot to think I'd be strong enough for this work. I tried to get Andy out of this mess by selling her to Rufus, but that hornheaded boozer didn't take the hint at all! What else could I do but send Andy on a wild goose-chase and leave you two to protect me from... from Mad Jack Stutter-Step?!"

Branching blades of shadowy smoke whipped at the lumpen man, cutting his rancid flesh, sending chunks of him squelching to the floor. A dusky tentacle seized him by the waist, lifted him bodily and dragged him through four shelves, nine white torches and the sales counter, planting him in darkness at the far end of the store. Old Maken gasped and fell to one knee.

"Kill him now! Before he..."

There was a twitch, suddenly, a spasm in time. The lumpen man picked up Old Maken by the head, lifted him high and snapped him like a wet rag.

Outside Mama Jupiter's Cabaret

"Oh, come on," grinned the blue cloak. "I don't even have any sleeves."

And to prove this, he bared two slender white arms from within his cloak, raising them high in a lackadaisical gesture.

"I'm a bit too young to propose, too. You know, I don't think you're lying... so you should probably stay outside, cutie. I'll be back with the milk."

He hopped off the bouncer, dusted himself off, then sauntered down the staircase and through the door. But if Kayne stared close enough, she would see a gold chain peeking from the right pocket of his cloak...

Inside Mama Jupiter's Cabaret

Claudia screamed as Irra clamped down on her arm. The blaster fell to the ground and went off, sending another red beam straight through the ceiling. Wolf, meanwhile, would find himself sufficiently arrested by Makoto and Andradite's combined efforts, and would not be able to kill much more than the air.

Mama Jupiter moaned once or twice, but otherwise did nothing. She seemed terribly haggard in the light, and very old all of a sudden. Her fat was lolling.

"Wow, neat show!" chirped a new voice, cutting through Claudia's sobs like a crystal flute. "Sorry to butt in!"

The boy in the baby-blue cloak showed his empty hands, then began to work his way through the crowd.

"Sorry. Sorry. Nice machete. Sorry."

He slipped out, at last, in front of Lamb and the magic circle, eying Kyxe's plasma-daggers with some caution.

"Hey there. The name's Begonia Smith, and yes, the name is a bit of a joke. My Dad wanted a girl. Now, I'm not going to fight all of you, because my boss doesn't exactly pay suicides. But I'm going to say this: my boss owns that green gem girl over there, and he'd very much appreciate it if he could get her back."

He wheeled around, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"In fact," he yelled cheerfully, "he'll pay five million cryptcoins to anyone who manages to bring her to me in one piece! Or several! Don't worry, you can't kill her!"

The cabaret let out a collective gasp. Bikers paled. Skinheads tottered. Waitresses fainted. The bear in the clown outfit let out a gronk and licked the bacon girl. The starfishes slipped out the back door with the piano in tow.

Begonia Smith climbed on a table, folded his arms, and smirked.

Then the entire house descended on the party, kicking and screaming.

Edited by troydenite on Dec 18th 2018 at 5:51:46 AM