Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Zone Five, The Dappled Passages
The apparent monk chuckled at Yuudias' impressive enthusiasm. "Not on the floor, son!" he implored with a gesture at the seat beside him. "Sit on one of these stools, like I'm doing, see? Wong Pro, my friend, a plate of vegetable bao for this gentleman here!"
He took a sip of his tea while the alien lad got situated, then set his cup back on the counter and studied Yuudias' face intently, as if taking his measure. "Now," he began after a moment, "from the rumors I've heard circulating about you, I gather that you arrived here in Concordia recently, so I doubt you have many marks - money with which to pay me. In which case, a favor will need to be sufficient, as you suggested a moment ago. I will be frank: presently, I do not know where your 'Valvegear' or your friends are. However, I do know of a way you can locate them for certain if they are within this city, and besides that, I can use the help of my many friends to conduct a thorough search."
"The first method is faster and more accurate, but if we use it then you will owe me two favors instead of one, as I will need to ask a favor of a friend of mine in order to use his important device. The second method is slower and has no guarantee of success, but if we go that route, you will only owe me one favor. Most importantly, you must give me your solemn promise that in exchange for my help you will do whatever I ask you to do as a favor at a future point of my choosing, abiding by both the word and spirit of my request, and not betraying the trust I place in you. Can you promise me that, Yuudias?"
By the time the monk was finished speaking, Wong Pro had set a steaming plate of veggie bao in front of the newcomer, offering Yuudias a silent smile and nod.
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
A dogged fellow, aren't we?
Satsuki – Zone 6, 214th Street Cannery
Satsuki glanced up as Crowe and Hiroki materialized beside her, lifting a hand to silently refuse the offered newspaper. She’d already read what little the Concordance had managed to get to print.
“I’ve seen estimates that as much as eighty percent of Zone 6 is offline.” She returned her hands to the pommel of her sword, expression grim. “It’s harder to tell how hard Zone 5 has been hit. I’ve heard nothing concrete from the inner zones, but I suspect they’ll fare worse than us in the long run. Zone 5 has always been more self-sufficient.”
They’d had to be – the Diet couldn’t be relied upon, after all.
She turned her gaze to the newly arrived Hiroki with a small nod, returning to the problem at hand.
“The Well itself is unaffected. Our systems are pre-Eggtech, and we’ve been reverting every Room that joins our power grid to run on the same standard. Our territory still has power, light, water.”
Nothing important in the Well and the Militia’s core Rooms ran on Eggtech, in fact. Satsuki had taken the Zone 5 penchant for self-sufficiency and made it policy. If her techs couldn’t fix it or modify it, she’d had it replaced.
“The same can’t be said for the newly added territories. They will have been hit just as hard as the rest of the zone, especially the ones that are still rebuilding.”
An Ordinary Oddball
Kayné Ainsel & Moloch "Moko" Kothys—Zone 5, Back Alley
"Sorry, I was just closing up shop, if you're rushing to my stall," Kayne said as she accidentally brushed up against Dr. Grey in the narrow alley corner. Fortunately for the other good doctor, she was wearing a metal name tag with her name stated clearly on it in black block letters. "It's the end of my shift for today, and I need to head back home and recuperate from my wounds. I'll be back tomorrow if that's what you need."
"But then again, you look like a doctor too," she added, more slowly, as she put a hand on her hip. "Can I help you with anything? Do you need more supplies?"
Edited by JumpingFruit on Oct 5th 2022 at 12:10:00 PM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Mad Scientist
Zone 5, Near Kayne's Stall; Nathan Grey
"Oh it's Kayne Ainsel, not Ainsel Kayne. Good to know." I mumbled under my breath upon seeing the nametag upon Kayne.
...Wait a minute.
Oh crap, she's right in front of me.
Wait, did she hear me wonder what her name was?
What do I do, what do I do?
Hang on, she said something about supplies?
Maybe she can help me with-
Ergh, stop that Grey, get on with this mess.
"I... wanted to ask you a question. Just one question."
...
"...Accord 142. The First Day of Aprimay, er- Firstmonth, I mean."
...
"You recovered. What about you set you apart from the eighty t- eighty one who didn't?"
Alex Mercer - Zone Six - Egress Eternal Private Room
So the rumors were true, then. The young witch frequently found wandering the streets of Zone Five was, in fact, Blair's daughter. As she laid bare her ostensible motivations, you found yourself absentmindedly scratching your chin as you rested it in your hand. It was interesting. Very interesting. In that sense it would seem Blair had been quite successful at convincing everyone that she didn't care about anything but herself and her profits. Her consideration for her family would mean little before the riots that may very well await her in the future, should things continue along the current path. You cared about your sister- his sister, an obnoxious thought in the back of your mind corrected- too, and that would never amount to anything next to the mountain of bodies you'd left behind you.
Blair was dangerous, this was well known. But this new information made her more so, and that, too, was interesting. Exciting, even. People were often willing to go to quite extreme lengths for those they cared about, lengths they might never even consider if it was purely for themselves. And the Good Little Witch was certainly an upstanding, helpful citizen. Or, rather, she was a remarkably terrible citizen, on account of her unwillingness to accept "good enough." Good citizens stayed in their lane and followed the law, they didn't ignore it and subvert it for the welfare of others. The Diet will absolutely not be happy about its citizens helping themselves instead of accepting their own magnanimous assistance. Someone like her could be very, very beneficial, given the right support.
"She's your daughter?" you finally said, feigning skepticism, and followed it with a hearty laugh. "On the contrary, Blair, that makes things much more exciting! And before you start worrying I'm up to something nefarious, I understand well the importance of family, at least when you don't have to put them in the ground yourself. I've little interest in problems that I can't kill. But if this little firecracker of yours wants to help people, though, well, how about I take care of that for you? Brand's got your hands tied, you say, so I say you stay out of Junior's way and we see what sort of trouble we can't stir up. There's no shortage of connections in Zone Five, like Brando said, and I think I can pull a couple strings and help her get some momentum built up."
You rested your hands on the table in front of you again, pushing back to rest against the booth. "Call it a little friendly competition between two family members with opposing viewpoints? Having someone willing to work with Brand that can keep an eye on him is value enough for me. And if he's not secretly some nefarious bastard, well, competition is what capitalism's all about, right?"
You have no idea why she'd agreed to meet here, but she'd already given you everything you needed. Whether or not she squirmed would just be icing on the cake.
An Ordinary Oddball
Kayné Ainsel & Moloch "Moko" Kothys—Zone 5, Back Alley
Kayne releases a sigh, breath almost appearing to fog in the dust of the back alley. She puts her hands on her hips and shifts to one side, as if hoping to physcially dodge the question altogether. Unfortunately, she couldn't escape this conversation so easily.
"The Crystal Bombing. How could I forget?" she stated neutrally, affixing Dr. Grey with a steely gaze. "Hmm. I've had my theories since that day. If nothing else, my time in the stasis crystal gave me plenty of time to review and solidify them. It would be good to have a second opinion on the matter, so do listen closely, y'hear?"
"The victims have undergone a phenomenon I have decided to name 'Quantum Crystallization,' wherein they are trapped in a state that is both 'alive' and 'dead' inside their respective crystals. They are in a very liminal sort of stasis, which is good, since it means that they will be alive and well once a method is devised to get them out," Kayne explained. "While a specialized cure is technically not needed, I hypothesize that if one tried to chisel them out of the crystal, there is a 50/50 chance of survival, as once observed, their state of being will be locked into being either alive or dead by quantum telefragging. This is, understandably, an issue."
"To banish this paradoxical ailment, we need an equally paradoxical cure," she concluded. "And I am one of the fortunate folk who have managed to slay a god in their lifetime, though I have not yet staked my claim to divinity yet, nor do I ever plan to. This makes me a god, and also not a god at the same time. Therefore, if I have to give up the shard of power inside me for the sake of a cure, then I will."
A gust of wind blew through the dank alley as the sunlight in Kayne's eyes intensified. The neon streetlights flickered behind Kayne's head and the light seemed to form into a halo in the shape of a gear before disappearing.
"None shall be so presumtuous as to assume dominion over my body ever again."
Edited by JumpingFruit on Oct 8th 2022 at 10:21:37 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Blair, Egress Eternal, Zone 6
...Thinking about it, I truthfully have no idea why I agreed to meet with these two men, or why I have been so remarkably honest with them. Perhaps living this long and being invincible - and the knowledge that the one person in this city I truly care about cannot die either - has dulled my sense of caution. Perhaps the traumatic step backwards to working underneath an unscrupulous man, something I haven’t done for many years now, is causing me to act erratically. Perhaps Brand simply is a threatening enough man that I’ve realized I cannot deal with him alone, much as I’m inclined to do with most of my problems. Whatever the reason, there’s no going back now. And it probably beats working for Brand until he gets tired and decides to cut me open to try to find the secret to my immortality, or whatever the hell his final aim truly is.
I don’t even respond to Dio’s comment regarding my… ‘debate’ with Kayne and Xantcha, if you can call it that. I was under some pretty notable restrictions as to what I could even say at the factory opening, considering Brand would be on my ass in a heartbeat if I made any concessions to the workers that would’ve actually cut into our profits too deeply. Which, of course, I myself would have no inclination to do had there not been other factors at play - Little Miss Anarchist stirring up the masses with her rhetoric, the cloud of suspicion over Brand’s yet to be confirmed criminal actions, not to mention that Eggman’s stunt has probably largely turned people from begrudgingly tolerating the hand of big business to actively rejecting its presence by this point. There was likely very little, if anything I could do to salvage things under those conditions, and I have bigger fish to fry regardless.
As I somewhat expected, the two seem quite interested in my daughter. The fact that Mercer’s response was not more negative than it was is a little odd, considering she is someone with no lost love for the Diet - the apple doesn’t fall from the tree in that respect. Then again, perhaps he isn’t particularly fond of the rest of his colleagues, either. It stands to reason that his relationship with them might be on pretty rocky ground, just like Darien and I, especially considering he’s one of the few of them that I know actually does his job with competency. That has to breed some resentment with the do-nothings.
Then they bring up Zone 5. She does indeed have a great deal of interest in Zones 5 and 6, particularly 5 after the bloodbath that happened recently. In fact, it would surprise me little if she was there right now.
“She would get along well with that contingent of Concordia, yes. Presuming her family name and social class don’t damage her credibility amongst that particular crowd, anyways. I’ll be interested to see how exactly that plays out.”
I do have to wonder how the hell she’s going to manage this strange balancing act of essentially living in a completely different universe from those people while fighting for their cause. Even if she were to donate every mark she had to charity and resolve that contradiction, she still does not eat. Does not drink. Does not get sick, retain injury, or ever need to go to the hospital. She’ll never understand the basic human notion of growing old and facing one’s mortality. She has been shielded from essentially every possible hardship one could face in Concordia, and I expect some people will claim this means she doesn’t understand their struggles. And frankly, they have something of a point. She has seen people suffer in the outer zones - people she cares about - but that is not the same as experiencing that suffering yourself. She is an angel floating around in a broken world. And there are jealous, angry little people who would like to try to clip her wings by bringing her unhappiness so they can feel like she’s been dragged down to their level. Such is how things are.
Ironically, Kayne of all people is the individual I expect her to hit it off with the best. She already navigates the bizarre realm of ostensibly being an anarchist while retaining close friendships with many in the violent apparatus that birthed her assaulters, so I don’t imagine an earnest young lady who’s lived a charmed life that just so happens to carry my blood would be a bridge too far for her.
...
Oh well. So long as she does not hurt her - and I’m struggling to think of how she could even do that, beyond emotionally - I will not interfere. I knew the two crossing paths eventually was always a real possibility, and I’ve accepted that reality as much as I possibly can.
Then Mercer makes his offer. That he seems interested in seeing the rebels of Zone 5 succeed only confirms that his ambitions have more depth to them than that of a rank-and-file career Diet member. My one question is… why? Does he not fear what the whispers of discontent across Concordia could mean for him should they boil over and turn towards the Diet itself? Whatever weaponry the United Front members have, it’s at the very least capable of shorting his ability to heal temporarily - which means they may be able to do it long enough to actually kill him. Would he not be in danger if those arms circulated around the city? Perhaps he’s confident enough that he wouldn’t be. Either way, he’s someone of interest to keep an eye on.
He asks me to trust him, and I think I do trust him not to do anything stupid. Attacking Maggie would both make him an unnecessary new enemy, lose him his eyes on Brand, and possibly damage his reputation at the same time. All for no benefit beyond pissing me off, and I don’t think his aims are that small and petty. If he really just wanted to do that, he could save himself a lot of trouble and throw a brick through my window.
“Rest assured, I don’t plan to meddle in my daughter’s affairs. That wouldn’t be conducive to a good relationship between us, and engaging in some mother-daughter warfare in addition to navigating around Brand hardly seems practical. Whatever she accomplishes, so long as she remains outside of Brand’s clutches - or men like him - I believe I will be satisfied. Because in spite of our differences, the two of us still have a strong bond, and I want her to be happy. Besides, all else aside - she is my kin, and I expect great things of her. Can't exactly see what she's capable of if I'm actively trying to snuff out her ambitions. So… yes. Yes Robert, I do believe I can agree to those terms.”
Hm. Perhaps this wasn't a mistake after all. We'll just have to see how this all plays out.
...There is but one thing that bothers me. Something that admittedly may just be paranoia.
I caught a glint in Dio's eye. A brief moment of malevolence. One that I know how to look for, because of the kind of person I am. Let me stop you right there - do not go this route. Not for her sake, but for yours.
Maybe I’m just seeing things, and maybe you aren’t plotting any sort of impropriety. Or maybe you are a moron who is looking to start shit with people he really shouldn’t. But I know one thing for sure - you are not Brand, Dio. Not even close. You’re a roided out ape with makeup and good connections. I think you like to sit around on your ass, waiting for shit to go sour, and then claim victory as though you had anything to do with it. Just like you did with the factory opening. Just like you probably did when Satsuki won that gang war. Just like you probably did when Eggman threw his great tantrum.
...Or maybe I’m wrong about everything and you actually are just the greatest swinging dick in Concordia. Hmmmm... I wonder which one is the safer bet here?
Regardless, your ‘prey’ is not some helpless little girl, and there’s a decent chance she can outgrapple even a mountain of muscles like you. She is also someone who, like every Nightshade, has a vast array of magic and artifacts at her disposal, and is not afraid to use them. She is kind, and perhaps naive in some respects - hard not to be with the life she leads. But by no means does that make her a pushover.
So stay in your lane. You are not an apex predator - no such thing truly exists. For all I know, you might very well have been the greatest monster in whatever town you come from - but that doesn’t mean much here. I learned that with Brand, and that is a lesson you too will learn should you trifle with me.
I fold my hands on the table, awaiting their responses.
Edited by HilarityEnsues on Oct 7th 2022 at 6:58:53 AM
Rebecca - Zone Five - Shady Side Alleyway
From an alleyway just out of sight from the main streets, but close enough that anyone paying attention with decent hearing could catch, came the clang of something heavy hitting something thin and metallic, followed by a masculine scream, the crunching of metal on stone, and girlish cackling. A man was running- emphasis on was- from someone who appeared to be half his size, all bright colors with even brighter fire in her eyes. She held a shotgun, as tall as she was and just as flamboyant, hoisted over her shoulder in one massive metal hand, the other picking up a strewn pouch the man had carelessly dropped. Her quarry squirmed helplessly on the ground nearby, violently shoved into a trash can that had been squeezed rather less gently than he would've liked around his torso and arms, preventing him from moving.
She'd been worried after the business with Greed disappearing had quieted down that things would be returning to "normal" in Zone Five. Normal, in this case, meaning she'd be back to being bored out of her fucking mind and with nobody to shoot. Most of the people she'd met in her short time here hated this city; To someone used to living at the Edge, it was like a vacation on some peaceful fucking tropical beach like in B Ds, and an unwanted one at that. And then some corpo rat named Robotnik or some shit went and nuked half the tech in the whole damn city with the push of a button. Chaos spread. Most people hated chaos, did everything they could to avoid it, prevent it or escape from it.
Not her. Chaos was every minute of every day for her.
Yup, things were really starting to look up for Rebecca. Chaos meant work, work meant money, and money meant she could restock on ammo and booze up at the end of the day to try to inject some sort of spice back into her life in this boring shithole. Not like she had anything better to do, after losing her crew and winding up in this strange place where hardly anyone thought getting into a scrap was a good way to burn time. At least there were enough chrome junkies from the Maelstrom here that she could occasionally shoot someone and get away with it scot free.
"C'mon, choom! Don't gotta be like that!" she chirped, flipping open the pouch to inspect its contents. "I told ya I just wanted to talk!" Her playful, toothy grin was sharp enough to cut like a knife. "And what do we have here?" Out of the pouch she fished a small cube, which she brought to her nose and sniffed, before pulling the cube away and waving her hand in front of her face, as if it would disperse the smell.
"Oh yeah, that's legit! How'd a gonk like you get your mitts on preem shit like this? You ain't got the scratch to afford it, and no way you're hard enough to klep it with just that fuckin' knife you got on ya." She dropped the cube on the ground, squashing it under foot as she stepped forward and lowered her shotgun off her shoulder to level it at the man. "Better spill it quick, before I get bored and spill you. You're one of Greed's boys, aren'tcha? So where'd it come from, and where's the rest of the stash?"
Her eyes widened with her smile, a truly unsettling combination when viewed down the barrel of a shotgun. "Out with it!"
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Zone Five, Residential Street - Vivy and Matsumoto
This evening, I am sitting on a low brick wall along a main thoroughfare in one of Zone Five's many residential blocks, a guitar in my hands and attired in a replica of one of my old outfits
◊ from my universe of origin, which I commissioned from a tailor some time ago. This particular style of outfit was mostly worn by Diva, the me who is dead, but in memory of her great success as a singer, I have decided to don it again to commemorate regaining the ability to sing. That said, I am not only skilled in vocals, but also in the use of many different instruments, such as this acoustic guitar I am leaning on my leg, so I have decided to combine my skills by playing and singing to accompany the melody.
Above me is a humble but effective streetlight, which is off at the moment, but when night falls and I continue to perform, it will be shining down a circle of illumination upon my person and immediate surroundings that will look something like a stage spotlight. To my left is one of Matsumoto's cube bodies, sitting silently on the wall beside me and following those who walk past with his electric blue eye. On my other side is a bowl set upon the wall with a paper label reading "Tips - donated to rebuilding Zone 5". I have accumulated a healthy supply of marks from appreciative passerby since this morning, so the bowl is now mostly full.
Still, I plan to continue playing and singing until late this evening, and so I wind down the end of the current song and start a new one:
Edited by darksidevoid on Oct 8th 2022 at 3:08:26 PM
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
V was walking along, still trying to figure out the mechanics of the Omega Blockers here, when he stopped. Music was playing, it didn't sound too bad, but he had little experience with it beyond the sounds of singalongs and shanties from his time in the Bakkers.
Johnny appeared. "Ya hear that? That's the sound of music."
"As if you can tell?"
"I can, unlike you I actually know how to carry a tune. That's genuine passion, some poor Gonk has got a cause they wanna stick behind and music is how they're manifesting it."
V walked further along and saw Vivy and the donation box. "Passion huh?"
"V, the cause doesn't have to be good, it just has to mean something. You think the shit I wrote for samurai was because I wanted to cash in on anti-corpo messages?"
V had to admit there was sense to what Johnny was saying.
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Zone Five, Residential Street - With V/Johnny
As I am finishing up "The Boy from Ipanema", I notice a gentleman passing by, who says to himself, "Passion, huh?"
"Excuse me, Sir!" I call out to him with a winsome smile as Matsumoto's eye refocuses on him in particular, "If you are looking for passion, I have a particular song you may enjoy! Or, if you have any songs to request that I am familiar with, I could play those as well! Would you care to stay and listen?"
As I talk, I inspect his person, which really happens extremely quickly due to my processing speed. He is wearing black and white boots with lines of glowing neon orange near the soles, blue jeans, and a black mesh shirt under a thick beige jacket of a style I have never seen before. The patch on his arm is suggestive of America or a similar country, but with the endless variety of universes that people in this city are from, there is no way to know for certain. The unusually large collar of the jacket also seems to have internal neon lighting, and I wonder if that is true of the rest of the piece as well. Lastly, the gentleman seems to have artificial lines carved into his face, and use of my additional modes of vision reveal that there is a great deal of metal in his body, so he is either a cyborg, like a man I once met in my universe, or a robot, like myself. Either possibility is equally interesting.
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
Johnny gave V a smirk. "Well?"
"I'm down to listen but I don't think you know any of the songs I can think of," V answered.
He looked down to the bowl of donations. "What have you been up to anyways? Good cause for that? Bit new around here so I'm not up to date on all the goings on."
"Amazing you managed to not weird her out with slang from NC. Keep this up and maybe we'll actually fucking get somewhere," Johnny commented.
Crowe - Zone 5, 214th Street Cannery
Crowe's head turned when he heard someone approach, but he relaxed when he saw it was Hiroki. Raising a hand in greeting, the sniper stuffed the folded up newspaper back into his coat and shrugged his shoulders. Right now he was pretty glad he threw his lot in with the group that trusted The Egg the least. If he had been unable to have his breakfast toast this morning it would have been the end of everything.
While listening to Satsuki talk, he walked over to a derelict machine to lean against. He'd been awake for a while and his feet were bothering him, plus it was the cool guy thing to do. Naturally, as soon as his back touched the machine he heard a creaking sound and felt it fall away, only to crash loudly on the floor. Crowe was left wide eyed and standing mid-lean, hoping no one saw but knowing they did.
Instead he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, quickly brainstorming a means to move the conversation along. "Well, we know we're self-sufficient, but do the people from on high know that? It's probably pretty public knowledge that we just went through hell to get rid of Greed on top of the Egg cracking. Theres a pretty good chance they might try to 'reach out' and get Zone five under their control in a grab for stability and optics. What are we gonna do then? Do we just let them?"
Now, Crowe was not any sort of political quick thinker, but the world he came from had been going through some turbulent times and this was all feeling a little familiar. This left him curious as to how Satsuki would proceed. When he first joined the Shrine's Well his opinion on her wast hat she was on the right track and respected her focus on the people. He wasn't fanatically loyal though, so he was curious to see what she would do at a turning point like this. He honestly had high hopes for her, much more than the Diet.
Mad Scientist
Zone 5, Back Alley; Nathan Grey
Well...
That doesn't really help me, does it? Despite the comparison some may make between Archotechs and gods, they're not really the same thing.
Especially since you can generally at least vaguely understand the motives of gods.
Well, at least the ones here in Concordia.
"...Alright then. I must say, I do respect such... determination. Although I don't think it will be necessary for you to sacrifice your... divine shard."
Hmmm, I wonder...
Well, it can't hurt to inquire, can it?
"There is one way you could really help me out, though."
I reached into my bag and pulled out a clear bottle marked with an X, containing a blue liquid chemical within. Neutroamine.
"This is Neutroamine, a synthetic precursor chemical for quite a lot of drugs back where I came from. Unfortunately, I lack a reliable method of producing it. There was a method
that was used that I am aware of. But it happens to be rather... unethical."
Not to mention the impracticalities, but people always seem weirded out for some strange reason that I tend to bring that up instead of the ethical issues. Which is weird, since one can easily excuse a degree of ethics issues, as long as one endeavors to solve said issues to a more acceptable degree.
Well, assuming it doesn't- Wait, still in a conversation.
"In any case, this happens to be one of a few bottles of it I managed to... recover from a previous workplace of mine. If you could take it and try and find a reliable and preferably inexpensive way of manufacturing it, I would greatly appreciate it."
"Of course, since appreciation is not directly convertible into currency, as far as I'm aware. I'm very willing to provide payment once I can take some time to hit up one of my stashes. Not to mention I may have some specimens that you may find particularly interesting."
"So can you do this for me?"
An Ordinary Oddball
Kayné Ainsel & Moloch "Moko" Kothys—Zone 5, Back Alley
"I'll see if I can't scare up some solution or analogue using algae as an alternate growth medium, so to speak," Kayne agreed, taking and pocketing the vial of Neutroamine. "The rest also sounds sufficient. But, you know, I hate to be rude and everything, but even after you've asked me for help, you still haven't explained why you want it, nor have you given me your name yet. Although, I can certainly hazard a guess..."
"...good doctor Grey."
Edited by JumpingFruit on Oct 8th 2022 at 10:39:12 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Mad Scientist
Zone 5, Back Alley; Nathan Grey
"Oh, sorry. Not the first time I've completely forgotten to introduce myself." I replied.
I then mumbled under my breath, "Why do I have be so bad at socializing outside of commerce?"
Whatever, I'll just tell her why I want to have some neutroamine and then I can just try and see about getting to work on that new hideout plan.
"As for why I desire your help in making more neutroamine, well as I said, it's a synthetic precursor chemical and is used in a lot of drugs. Very helpful drugs, for instance, when combined with some Healroot, it can be made into a very good medicine for doctoring and the like."
...
"I mean medical doctoring, not... anyway, there's also Wake-Up, a very good stimulant capable of completely surprising the need for sleep. Admittedly, it does come with the risk of addiction and of course, overdose, being a rather hard drug. Also a minor risk of experiencing a... heart attack whilst under its effects. But again, minor. I'm sure that most people who use it come out fine."
Hell, I used to use it a bunch before I ended up in Concordia, and I only ended up with 8 heart attacks and a major overdose that one time until they made me stop taking it.
...okay, I guess I may have somewhat downplayed the risk. Ah, whatever.
"Anyway, there's also Go-Juice, a combat stimulant made with neutroamine and some Yayo. Then there's of course, Penoxycyline, which helps to prevent stuff like malaria, plague and sleeping sickness. There's other drugs you can make with neutroamine, but those are pretty much the most common uses."
An Ordinary Oddball
Kayné Ainsel & Moloch "Moko" Kothys—Zone 5, Back Alley
"Hey, it's alright," Kayne comforted Dr. Grey. "You seem to be a good man. Even if you're a bit scatterbrained, like me, it's good to see that your medical reputation is deserved. I look forward to our scientific collaboration, and I'll be sure to keep you posted on any new developments."
Edited by JumpingFruit on Mar 25th 2023 at 11:34:22 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Hiroki, Zone 5, 214th Street Cannery
I wave back to Crowe, listening to Satsuki as she speaks. I understood that Zone 5 was pretty dependent on Egg tech, but I wasn’t aware it was to such a stark degree. Living in Zone 4 has admittedly meant I live in a bit of a… bubble compared to the rest of the militia. Two different worlds, each but a stone’s throw from each other.
“Hm… I don’t know what we can even do. I have to imagine the Diet, bad optics or not, will point every gun they have at anyone who challenges their authority over Zone 5. Good PR will always be a secondary concern compared to maintaining power for right-wing autocrats.”
I very much am aware Crowe just tipped over a machine - it doesn’t take superhumanly sharp senses to notice something that conspicuous. I’m sympathetic because I’ve broken a fair number of things without meaning too. Such is the price of forgetting about the strength I wield, even for a moment.
I glance back over to Satsuki, curious where she even plans to go from here. She has managed to unite much of Zone 5 under her banner, which means the powers that be will no longer be able to ignore her.
Truthfully, I am fearful. I’m willing to take up arms against the criminal elements of this city, sure.
But… I worry about what happens once we reach a point where we’re taking on more dangerous adversaries - ones that hold seemingly all the cards. That’s going to put me in a very difficult situation. Because for whatever I believe about what needs to be done, I’m going to be sticking my own neck out here. And the more I’ve managed to pull myself out from the hell that was the Japanese Empire and actually carve out a life for myself, the more difficult it has become to get on board with the idea of going all the way with this. The more difficult the idea of risking what I have becomes…
Areum, Zone One, Everlasting Diet
I gently pat Chen on her head. She is a good kid - or very old person who acts like a kid, to be more technically correct. Whichever.
“Hello Chen, Miss Yukari. It has been… difficult lately, yes. Truthfully, I’ve been trying not to think about recent events - or anything else that’s upsetting - and have been trudging along as though everything is fine. AS you might imagine, I’ve had… mixed results with this approach.”
I take a Purple People-Eater and have a sip.
“Thank you, I appreciate it. And yes, I’d love to go to the beach.”
I just need to do something, literally anything but what I’m doing right now. I’m starting to worry I won’t be able to make music if I remain this stressed - I’ve already thought about that to some extent already. At the very least I might stop doing pop music because it’s hard to justify doing this feel-good party crap when I don’t feel good anymore. I think I need more variety with my lineup… a lot more. Doesn’t feel authentic to keep doing the same music I made under a fake persona. Maybe some more mellow stuff, and some harder stuff. Something besides the stuff I’m doing now.
Local idiot who is a sucker for cute 2d boys
Zone 3, streets ~ Teto
...Okay, I'll admit, the old guy didn't specify which fire hydrant I should stop at. But, since I still have time on my hands, I figure why not and try to help out Zone 5. So, I decided to look for some place to sing and found the perfect spot; under the lamppost. Perfect, just what I need. The problem is that I need something to hold in the cash in, so I put my hands in my pocket and- wait, there's something wrong with my pocket as I pull my hand out and saw...some jar. No, really, I'm not even joking. Well, it could be worse; could be nothing. So, I put the jar next to me as I cough for a bit as to prepare myself to sing one of an classic song, Kokoro. Expect I'll be doing a bit of a twist to make it feel more unique compared to Kokoro. After all, it's to fund for helping out Zone 5.
sword of promised halp
Zone 5, Barovian Backdoor Special - Just The Girls
Before you can acknowledge Prushka or notice Vult, you hear someone tramping up the stairs.
This by itself would not be a strange occurrence; people climb stairs all the time. Less usual, however, is the sudden hush that falls over the rest of the Barovian - a silence so thick that you can hear it through the walls of your room.
The jukebox is still going. It sounds like a funeral.
Someone is peeling each foot off the carpet. One at a time, which makes him sound like a plasticine penguin with a loaded shotgun. One of you squirrels back the left curtain, and another the right, and then you can see him.
The man is taller and thinner than he should be. His skin is so pale that it looks like chalk. It sags off him, his skin, deigning to fold over his proud and upright bones. His sharp nose and chin lie at angles, like a sun-basted waxwork.
His hair is long and very black, but it is dry and brittle and the ends are split. His uniform is also long and very black.
You don't know his face, but you know his name. There's only one person who could walk around Zone Five with so many medals on his chest.
Theophilus Shinkansen Houraisan sniffs the air, looks at your window, then notices you four, sweeping his dry gaze across your table, your stash, your hookah, your lighter.
His Adam's apple bobs. He disappears, and then your door swings open.
"That's a nice shirt," he says. "Is it... fashionable, these days? To express such sentiments?"
His eyes are brown and limpid. They are very beautiful, which makes the rest of him even more ghoulish.
You realize that he is looking at Susie.
Zone 6, 214th Street Cannery - Satsuki, Crowe, Hiroki, Rider
After the master's ward incapacitated herself, she demanded restitution. I have done so by allowing her to enter into a tavern with her companions, where no doubt she will engage in debaucheries. I do not mind debaucheries. She is a woman, after all, though there are those who think her young. In my time, a girl like her would be married, and big with child. She should engage in pleasures while she can, whether they be the comforts of wine or the shriveled weed.
But no men, and no cigarettes. With men comes defilement, and cigarettes are prohibited.
Because of this, I am guarding the master today. I have been told that staying in spiritual form is impolite, and that our allies should be allowed to see me. For that reason, I have manifested in my usual garb; the strange dress that leaves my thighs cold and the stiff leggings, the band around my eyes like a blindfold and the band around my neck like a collar. The dress scrapes against my hair when I move, though I do not need to breathe.
Who was it that gave me this form? He could not have chosen a better guise. For all my life I was collared, though they called me a goddess, and caged like a slave or a common cur.
I hold the chain now, but there is only a nail at its end. Perhaps I have always loved the chain, and only just come to know it.
Our allies number two, both men.
The first is a youth, with a high and thoughtful voice. He is of Japan, like the master. From his voice I can surmise several things, but it is so in many armies. His sword rustles at his side. I wonder if he can use it.
The second is older, with clothes that rustle like weeds. I cannot tell where this one is from. It took him a day or two to be comfortable in the master's presence, and I feel when I pass by him a slight instinctual fear - like the twitching of a cat. This one does not like women. He hides it with bravado.
Curses are strong, and so is fear.
The youth's name - for the master has insisted that I learn names - is Hiroki. The man's name is Crowe.
If things go well, I will not need to speak. That is as far as names will go.
Zone One; Everlasting Diet
Getting the Diet to vote on any matter is usually a question of ayes and nays — whoever screams the longest and loudest usually wins. However, the strange gravity of today's agenda has made precise counting necessary, and to that end Mr. Speaker has set in the center of the chamber his ballot box, in which each member will cast their voting stone.
The voting stone, a holdover from Concordia's less developed days, is inscribed with spells that divine the intent of the member, as expressed in a strict aye/nay binary. The ballot box then automatically sorts and counts them. Because each member only has one stone, it is necessary for the stones to be returned to their owner at the conclusion of each issue. This is done by seconded Peacekeeper ravens, who flap through the chamber with as much ceremony as they can muster. Those members with no arms or legs have their ravens vote for them.
Five times this is done; the votes are counted and recounted. Everyone starts glancing at each other, angrily, because the urge to abscond to the nearest bar is overwhelming. Faction leaders begin to slip passive-aggressive notes to other faction leaders. Footsies are played. The only people who seem unaffected by this are Nigel from Zone Six and Greguya Houraisan, the former because he is unflappable and the latter because he is sunk in a pink larded pile on the floor, where he has been ever since his matriarch made her pronouncement.
At length Mr. Speaker stands on his announcement box, with his solemn paws wrapped around the tally sheet. The ravens mill about their members at respectful distances.
"For the first issue," he intones, "that Darien Brand's financial activities be investigated by the Convocation of Circles. Ayes, 100. Nays, 90. Abstaining, 60. The ayes have it."
Seto Kaiba lets out a resounding 'heh', then shrugs. The action is large enough to knock his raven over.
"For the second issue, that the Peacekeepers receive a substantial budget increase, to be determined by a specially convened committee."
Everyone looks at Swain.
"Ayes, 121. Nays, 124. Abstaining, 5. The nays have it."
"What?" says everyone. "Why?"
The silence begins to rupture. GNU Image Manipulation Program gets to its feet and begins to gesticulate. Nigel gives a wan smile.
"For the third issue, that fiscal aid be granted to Zone Five and Six for their reconstruction efforts. Ayes, 127. Nays, 120. Abstaining, 3. The ayes have it."
"This is robbery!" yells LEGO™ Palpatine, the kindly Senator from LEGO™ Naboo. "Where are you getting all this money from?"
"For the fourth issue, that the power to appoint Guardians be returned from the Peacekeeper General to the Diet, that Peacekeeper oversight be transferred to the Diet, and that consequences for Guardian misconduct fall upon the Peacekeeper General. Ayes, 3. Nays, 4. Abstaining, 243."
Mr. Speaker rubs his head.
"I suppose the nays have it," he says. "For the final issue, that Guardian Theophilus Shinkansen Houraisan be stripped of his rank and privileges…"
"THIS IS A SCAM!"
"NO-ONE HERE IS SMART ENOUGH TO VOTE!"
"GO STICK YOUR HEAD IN THE SAP!"
"THE SAP IS SMARTER THAN YOU ARE!"
This uproar, while slightly more vociferous than usual, is exactly what happens in most Diet situations.
"Ah, order," says Mr. Speaker. "Oh, bother."
He picks up his Mr. Speaker bullhorn and sticks his head within.
"AYES, 249. NAYS, 0. ABSTAINING, 1."
Everyone shuts up, then turns to stare at the Houraisans. The air is so still and sweaty that you can hear Greguya shrinking.
"That's all," says Mr. Speaker, dusting off his belly.
"My," says Prince Shotoku, eyes aglow. "That's almost the first unanimous vote in our history."
The Everlasting Diet, buoyed by an inexplicable feeling of universal brotherhood, erupts into cheers and begins throwing ravens.
Zone Five - Shady Side Alleyway
"Please!" says the goon, stammering and shaking as he tries, ineffectually, to evade your line of fire. "I'm… I'm not with Greed, I used to be, but not anymore, we don't, it was…"
He sobs.
"I have no idea what you're saying…"
"Hey, you!
A long and very leggy shadow steps into the alleyway. She's wearing a Peek uniform, but she doesn't even seem to be armed. Her eyes are blazing with justice, her hair looks like two rubber ducks in a forbidden tryst, and her fingers are splayed across her hips.
Behind her is another girl, whom you see has two low-tech prosthetic arms. She looks like she's never had an independent though in her life.
This one's definitely a gonk.
"Pointing guns at other people isn't very legal!" says Leggy Girl. "In the name of the Moon, I'll punish you!"
"Usagi," says Gonk, "we are not authorized to act in the name of the Moon."
"What? Aww… come on, Violet. Can I at least punish her a little?"
The goon, who has been trying to slide out from underneath your gun, squeals as you kick him in the chest.
"The factory!" he wails. "I got the cubes from the factory! By the docks! You don't understand, they sent him! I didn't think they would, I never thought I'd see…"
The Violet formerly known as Gonk steps forwards. Her eyes look like dim streetlamps.
"Who?" she says.
"Jengbish!" says the goon.
Violet blinks.
"Jengbish?" says Usagi. "Wait, who's Jengbish? Is he dreamy? Is he a hot guy?"
"Did you not see him when you were underneath the table?"
"What?"
"What?"
Silence.
"If the commander is involved," says Violet, "then the situation must be grave."
"Oh, wow, he's a commander? That's kinda cute."
Violet looks down at the pink powder by your foot, then steps in between you and your target. It's like she doesn't mind being shot.
"We can help you find the source of that substance," she says. "My name is Violet. I am a Peacekeeper. This is my partner, Usagi. We are not authorized to use violence, but we have received accredited training at Precinct Nine."
"Who said anything about violence?" whines Usagi. "I want to see Jengy!"
Edited by troydenite on Oct 13th 2022 at 7:13:22 AM
'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023
Rebecca - Zone Five - Shady Side Alleyway
She cocks her head and lets out an annoyed tsk. "Yeah, yeah, all the mules got the same song and dance after the boss gets zeroed and they get left with the bag. Detes! Gimme detes!"
And then comes the voice from further down the alley. "Oh, what now?!" She instinctively takes a step back away from the ensnared goon, raising up her shotgun in preparation for her surprise guests. Instead of the violence she expects, however, she's greeted by two unarmed teenage girls. "Legal?! 'Course it's legal, I got papers and everything! And who the fuck are you two anyway?!" Her captive, evidently sensing an opening, attempts to squirm away, and earns her foot in his chest for his troubles. "You're not goin' anywhere until you give me answers!" she says, keeping an eye on the two girls.
Mercifully for him, she gets what she was looking for before boredom starts to set in. When the name comes up, she lowers her gun to point at the ground and says "Wait, what? Jengbish? The Jengbish?! Solo to end all solos?!" Her smile spreads wide and grows far too toothy, and she belts out a long cackle that's slightly less dignified than she might've liked were she paying enough attention to notice. "Nova! This I gotta see! Thanks, choom! Be a good boy and sit tight for me!" She ends the sentence with a smile just sickly sweet enough that when you stare you can see the knife behind its back.
She narrows her eyes and tilts her head up to look at Violet as she steps over the man. "And whaddyou gonks want? I got a factory to bust up." As Violet speaks, her face contorts into a wild smirk. "Pfft! You two are pigs? Yeah, and I'm the empress of Japan! If Jengbish is on site, job's gonna be messy, you two oughtta delta! Streets ain't safe, and I ain't a 'sitter! You follow me and catch lead it's your funerals! You Beavers better stay outta my way!"
With that, she hoists her shotgun over her shoulder, turns on her heels and sprints off as quickly as she can towards the docks.
Mancunian Candidate
Zone One; Houraisan Estate - Jengbish
Six Hours Ago
“You have always been incisive,” you say. There is a smile playing faintly around your lips, and you do not have the will to stifle it. You have missed this dearly. “I cannot speak for his intentions, not truly. The man is dead. Whatever history we had of him, it was taken in Old Night. Wise men have said that in this way the past exists to serve the present. These are the examples we take.”
“I think you know the lesson of this dead man’s words. If you are to conquer, if you are to rule, then you must act only with the certainty that yours is the will of Heaven itself. What is it that the Latterdays say? To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under Heaven. Tyranny is the luxury of mortal men. So too is stagnation. A mortal man will die, and so too will his righteousness, his ruthlessness and his mercy, even his madness. They pass to history and teach his successors. You never will. This is the curse that you must bear.”
“You are right to hate this place,” you say. “You are right to despise the men who would erect such edifice, and you will be right to see them destroyed. But you must destroy yourself in turn. You must do what Jaghatai knew that he must not, and dismount your horse to rule. There is no haven for you to return to. There are no others who can take your place. Do you understand? The Kaguya who sits before me cannot allow herself to endure. I say this as your Zadyin Arga. If this is to be your course, you must make sure you understand. To falter is the luxury of mortal men as well.”
“This is my counsel,” you say. “I speak to you now as your champion. Where would you have me begin?”
Zone Five; Canal Dock Number Two, Happy Eggy Confectionary Warehouse (Defunct) - Jengbish
In the one-hundred-and-sixty-third year of your life, you were selected to serve for a decade in the Deathwatch and fight the common enemies of man.
This office was auspicious. All chapters of the Astartes sent their representatives, in accordance with the ancient writs, and beneath the austere banners of the Ordo Xenos all bloodlines of the loyal sons regathered and reconciled. You served with Hadrianus Aurelius, who bore the heavy bolter Ultramar’s Retort, with Gormir the Hoary and his wolftoothed chainaxe, the blood-brothers Imamiah and Balthusar, with men of all manner whose names and deeds were drawn from every star of the galaxy to which Terra had laid claim, and whom each you called a brother. You served with the blackshield Ascades.
Ascades bore no banner. He had been a chaplain once, or something of the like, but then no longer. He bore no sigil upon his pauldron and no weaponry of repute, such things being forfeit to him. What remained was the scion of an exterminated bloodline, heir to a shame so profound it could not be expressed or acknowledged, a failure so complete that there could be no accomplishment. He hailed from nowhere. He was the son of no man. His primogeniture had been erased with his heraldry.
Beneath the yellowing skull of his greathelm he was a gaunt and pallid man, wracked with visions and prone to reticence, and spent most every moment spare he had in prayer. There were no sutras to his creed. His lips, cracked and charred, pressed against his rosary in utter silence, and so he would remain for hours, gazing in solitude upon the Imago Imperator. In the feasting halls he ate what decency mandated and then retired. When at last he met his end above Harkius VII, he was not mourned. A mercy had been done. It was no secret he had been waiting to die.
“It is like this, my brother,” he told you once. You had not pressed him. “There are no curses without words.”
The words are: Heavenly Sparkledrop Charming Punishment.
There is no time to move. They strike you about the chest, propelled by dread semantics, driving the air from your lungs, and the light shatters into groping prismatic tendrils where it meets the ceramite. The roof collides with your back, straining and distending, but by some narrow miracle holds. You make to raise your pistol.
The words are: Glittering Calamity Deluge.
There is a terrible sigil. The roof gives way.
Zone Five; Canal Dock Number Two - Rebecca
Canal Dock Number Two was a hasty construction, back in the day, an impermanent solution to explosion in productivity heralded by the first factories opening in Zone Six. In its prime this was the premier job creator of its quadrant, the damp hub through which all freight back into the city proper flowed, but that boom came and went a generation ago. Canal Dock Three gives a more efficient route to Zone Two, Canal Dock Seven is vastly more secure, and Canal Dock Six was bought out wholesale by the Egg back ‘27.
Nowadays, even the boats still running are starting to rust through. There’s a self-storage company squatting amongst the derelicts, an auxiliary Eggco warehouse used for surplus, a string of family restaurants still chugging heroically along. Until two weeks ago, everything else here belonged to Greed. Everybody who’s anybody knows that.
In any case, you’re running in the right direction. You can tell because everyone else is running the other way. There’s a jagged pink gouge in the skybox, bisecting the local sun. You saw that on an album cover once. It’s pretty nova.
You’re along the canalfront now, between the water and the corpse of a chinese restaurant, and you know you must be getting close because you’ve run out of people to yell at and you’ve had to start following the gunfire instead. You have a deductive mind like that. There’s a horrible crash from the next street over, a blur of something cresting the nearest roof, and you deduce that you should look up.
Your optics inform you, quite helpfully, that you’re in the trajectory of somewhere around two thirds of a tonne of skulls and power armor, trailing faint pink smoke.
What do?
Edited by OG-Sama on Oct 10th 2022 at 3:00:12 PM
Transcender of Gender
Zone Five, Barovian Backdoor - Leonardo Watch
This may come as a shock and surprise, but Leo wasn't much of a drinker. It wasn't for any legal reason, though it was true that it hadn't been that long since he'd had his sweet 21. Underage drinking might as well not have been a crime at all in Hellsalem, for how little it was modulated. He'd gotten worse flack for bad parking than he had for taking a shot at an office party.
Lack of company was a more deciding factor, if still not the most prominent one. Zed preferred a quieter environment, Chain was a monster once she hit the booze, Zapp was... well, Zapp, and the less Leo knew about the biological habits of one Amagranoff Luozontam Ouv Lee Nej, the better. Not only did that leave him without decent company to share a drink with, but it also left him defenseless against whatever thugs and pickpockets would swoop in as soon as he got a little tipsy.
(They targeted him regardless: it just hurt his soul more when it was after a merry night of mango fizzes.)
But anyway, he was young, he didn't have much friends, his sister already got on him for being a junk food junkie, and no amount of alcohol could combat the amount of stress he accrued each day, so it wasn't something he often sought out. It also, however, wasn't something he actively shied away from, so he was happy to take the offer when Bondrewd put it forward. Sure, it was a little weird- Bondrewd hadn't struck him as the drinking type, and a one-on-one was a bit awkward when his partner was also essentially his boss- but screw it. Not like anything else in this city made sense.
So that was how Leo came to join Bondrewd at the Barovian, legs swinging below the stool, already feeling light-headed from one and a half cocktails. Sonic had returned from whatever madcap adventure had kept him busy during the day, and was now in the gradual process of getting drunk himself: leaning in to Leo's drink, lapping up a drop, retreating away from the bitter flavour, only to return seconds later with renewed curiosity. Leo didn't bother stopping him; it was actually easier to deal with speed monkeys when they were inebriated.
"Feels a lot longer than a day, honestly." he replied to Bondrewd. His eyes rested for a second on the newspaper before skittering up to the man himself, unable to ignore the disparity between what could be seen of Bondrewd's face and what "couldn't". "You are right about the machinery: I checked back home and could hear myself think for the first time in a while!"
"...Of course, that also meant my stupid Eggtech fridge wasn't working anymore." The tragic memory of all that wasted food drained the energy from Leo's body, and he slowly plopped his head down onto the counter. "And obviously I'm not getting reimbursed for any of it..."
He spent a good moment wallowing in his misery, Sonic sipping from his drink all the while, until eventually he raised his head and peeked back at Bondrewd. "But yeah, what the hell even happened with Addward? You and Prushka were at the protest when he popped off, right?"
Zone Five, Happy Eggy Confectionery Warehouse (Defunct) - Ichiban Kasuga
An industrial building called for an industrial door, and Robotnik hadn't cut corners with the roller shutters that kept the heat in and the rabble out. They were as victim to the elements as the rest of the dock, rust creeping in where man didn't bother to tread, but none of their sturdiness had been lost over the years. Sure, they didn't always roll when they were supposed to, but aside from that they did their job just fine. A solid, splendid, satisfactory shutter.
Not long after Commander Jengbish is sent rocketing into the air is there a second blast of pastel pink energy, this one accompanied by a reverberating "Ky-aaaaah!" that inspires dread and turmoil in equal measure. There is a split second where the shutter bends under a sudden, immeasurable force, before it breaks entirely and a figure is sent flying out of the suspiciously man-shaped hole. The figure hits the ground and bounces, limbs flying every which way in a manner unseen outside of a physics engine, and then they're sent careening into the concrete for a second time, this time skidding across the grey until they come to a painful, bloody stop.
Ichiban has had better days. This isn't his first time dealing with explosions of a sudden and very painful nature, but it is his first experience with being slammed into steel at a speed that... well, honestly should've killed him. He forces himself up to his feet as every bone in his body- especially the ones he never knew existed- cry out in a staggering crescendo. Something tickles his throat and he coughs, blood spattering the ground. One of his lungs feels weird when he breathes. His forehead is wet and his vision doubles if he doesn't blink for too long.
But hey! Not even a dent in his good old metal bat!
The Peacekeepers on watch swarm around the gap he just left in the warehouse, blaring commands that don't settle in Ichiban's head. One of them hurries over, saying something about "emergency" and "internal bleeding" and "life-threatening injury", but he waves them off and focuses instead on scrounging deep into his trouser pocket. He at least has the sense to stagger away from the building before he's clipped by another Galactic Spray Aria, a fate many of the Peeks don't share as another blast of glittering energy sends them flying. Soon his fingers brush against plastic, and he emerges triumphant with the best salmon riceball that Donki can offer. He scarfs the whole thing down in a single bite, its effect immediate and miraculous: the strain in his lung subsides, a good indicator that it's no longer being bled into, and the ache in his skeleton is dampened to the degree that he can almost walk around without inflicting severe agony on himself.
Even so, he's in no shape to fight just yet. Squinting up into the sky, Ichiban spots the fading trail of pink that the commanding officer left in his wake. He hoists his bat up onto his shoulder and follows the smoke on foot, his determination waging a fierce battle with his multitudinous injuries. "Commander Jeng!" he calls as he stumbles. "Hey! You still alive?!"
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Zone Five
A New Voyage! Aboard The Great Ship Concordia (3)
Upon the monk(?)'s response to his actions, Yuudias gives a small nod, and sits down on the stool. And as he takes a bite of the dumpling in front of him, the alien listens intently to the words of his interlocutor.A 'favor'...? Now, Yuudias understand favors are a good thing. So in his mind, exchanging a favor for a favor should be good, right? After all- as the other person could tell by the way he stood a bit straighter to attention and all- he was clearly interested in knowing what method could lead him to his friends. He was almost ready to reply with an enthusiastic 'Yes!', before suddenly stopping himself.
A little voice in his head, saying- 'what would Yuamu do?'
She'd always be the one who was good with this kind of stuff, after all. Contracts, negotiation, that was one of her roles at UTS.
Yuudias looked at the other man, and replied with:
"Of course, I would love to know any way to find my friends and my comrades! But..."
He couldn't put his finger on it. Something was... something did not feel right. He shook his head.
"Jon jon du... I know this is a weird question to ask, but what could one of these 'favors' entail, more or less? I don't wish to be forced to do anything that would cause harm to my friends or to my people!"
It's worded a bit oddly maybe, and he doesn't know the exact words to put the question with, but it's a start. He thinks- Yuamu would also ask something like that, no?
Edited by DarknessAwaits on Oct 11th 2022 at 10:31:43 AM
Zone 5, Near Kayne's Stall; Nathan Grey
Not much farther now. Just a few more blocks before I get to around where Kayne is supposed to have her clinic.
Hmmm, thinking about it, didn't I grab some Healroot seeds from my old room at the Hive? Perhaps it might be a good idea to offer some to Kayne at some point?
Ah, matters for later. For now, I just need to find out one thing.
Why, out of everyone afflicted by the Crystal Bomb, did she end up coming out of it completely restored?
What made her different than the rest, those 81 victims?
...I'm just about there now. Just around this corner.
I just have to walk up and ask for...
"...Wait, is Kayne her first or last name? I know the other is supposed to be 'Ainsel' or whatever, but was it Ainsel Kayne or Kayne Ainsel?"
...
"Why do I always forget these kinds of things?"
Zone 5, Near the Barovian Backdoor Special; Alexi Vult
Fuck. I've been looking all over for Susie and so far, nothing!
Might as well take a break then. Do this shit tomorrow.
Oh hey, the Barovian Backdoor is right here. Well, if that's not a sign, I'd still go in anyway.
Time to just take a breather and calm the fuck down from all this stuff with Grey, the Backup Drives, Deltsin, and struggling with finding a purple Argonian OF ALL THINGS-
Okay, this is what I meant by 'stuff to calm down from'.
Just walk in, get a few drinks, and maybe see if I have the marks on me to grab some grub or something.
Sounds like a plan.
Edited by Mindris on Oct 4th 2022 at 7:54:35 AM