Chumroll's Dooftrapped--The New Thread!

[Naevius]

"Ok, um, here's your...five...rabbit rear-ends...possibly..."

As she pulled out a formerly brown, now stained red sack full of rabbit ass from her modus, Page Caldwell ruminated for the eighteenth time on how she probably shouldn't have accepted this quest. It was a really bad idea to accept this quest. In analyzing herself and her choices up to this point, Page regretted everything. Yet when she had come walking into the small little town, she had been immediately accosted by a crocodile with an open book on his head, claiming to be an all-powerful wizard. Fear and desperation in his tiny crocodilian eyes, he had claimed that he needed the butts--specifically the butts--of five rabbits for his spell or everything ever would be ruined. "Ruined" was a word he seemed to like, considering he used it about as much as he used "nak", which was quite a feat to behold. Suffice it to say, Page hadn't been able to say no to him, so off she went into a nearby snow-covered forest to hunt rabbits.

The whole ordeal had taken far longer than it really should have. Page was by no means a hunter, especially limited as she was by having no form of long-range attack. Though the game was plentiful, she often found that her plodding, indiscreet footsteps and other noises scared any off before she could get close enough to attack.

Yet, oddly, because of all this the whole thing had the unique flavor of a learning experience. First she learned stealth, much as Gita had told her to try and learn a day before when she had been hunted by ogres. She learned to wear white clothing to blend in, to keep low and use terrain, wind, etc. to her advantage. Even when she had mastered these concepts to the point where she could sneak up on rabbits fairly easily, she found herself hesitating long enough for them to discover her and flee. She could not bring herself to harm them. She reminded herself that whatever he was going to do was no worse than killing and eating them, and that people killed and ate animals all the time. She reminded herself that she had eaten meat, accused herself of hypocrisy if she wasn't able to hit a simple rabbit over the head with a large stick. She reminded herself that she had given her word. In the end, this zany Sburban quest had begun to teach her how to kill.

As she handed over the bag of rabbit posterior, she thought once again that she didn't really want to learn that lesson.

The crocodile seemed pleased. He began to babble on how the ruination had been averted and nak profusely. Without giving Page any sort of reward--though she hadn't really expected one, not being a player of RPGs of any sort--the book-wearing crocodile trudged away, dragging his bloody bag of rabbit ass through the snow and leaving a trail plain as day in his wake.

Page really hoped that no one thought someone had been murdered there...

Once again regretting her whole decision to harvest rabbit posteriors for some strange wizard lizard, she promptly about-faced and walked as quickly as she could towards this town's exit. The sooner she was out, the better. Maybe the next town would have some more sane quests less involving murdering small adorable creatures. On the way, however, she could at least resolve her curiosity over a certain matter: the large beam of light that looked like it had come from Lorelei's world. She would have contacted Lorelei immediately, but she figured that whatever Lorelei was doing was important and she shouldn't be disturbed. Now, after some time spent rabbit-hunting, Page hoped that Lorelei had enough free time to talk to her. Even if she was still busy, Page hoped she'd just ignore the message until she wasn't.

-- unsettledBookworm [UB] began pestering philosopherQueen [PQ] --

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UB: Hey, Lorelei.
UB: Do you have a moment, possibly?
PQ: I was just now taking a break, actually. What can I do for you, my friend?
UB: A break from what, if you don't mind me asking?
PQ: I am currently training my magic with the angels in my land. It is surprisingly tiring work, all things considered!
PQ: Mentally, not physically. More akin to how one feels after studying a great deal for a difficult test than after a long day of physical exertion.
PQ: I end up needing time to simply sit and think of absolutely nothing.
UB: ...You have angels??
PQ: ...Huh. I never told you that?
PQ: Odd that they seem so commonplace now that I would be surprised by your reaction. The human capacity to adapt, even to bizarre situations, will never cease to amaze me.
PQ: Anyway, yes, I do in fact have angels! They are, to use Khirun's words, "numinous and aweful". Krrr. Heehee!
PQ: Ahem.
PQ: Sorry, little in-joke there.
UB: Is she one of the trolls, perhaps? I got contacted by one, I think.
UB: Her name was Feiren, maybe.
PQ: Yes, she is one of the trolls. asterismAscendant. A good friend and a fellow Hero of Hope!
PQ: Ah, yes. I was contacted by Feiren as well. Do you know if she has a bizarre hatred of books? Another troll, Pythia, said she did.
UB: Yes, actually. She wanted to burn all my books for me, definitely!
UB: Dahlia sort of helped me out with her, I guess...
PQ: Ahaha! That sounds like a recipe for disaster if I have ever heard one. How did it go?

A while in and she still hadn't managed to ask about the very reason she had contacted Lorelei in the first place. Truth be told, she had forgotten.

UB: Well, she was asking if Dahlia and I were...matesprites, I think it was?
PQ: "Matesprits" I believe. Like mate and esprit, the French word for spirit. That is how I remember it.
UB: Oh, ok. Thank you! Anyway, Dahlia told me to basically ask if she was projecting on me or something, perhaps.
UB: I didn't really do very well at it, I think. I didn't want to be mean, not really. And Dahlia told me to use a line from some book but all I could think of was "Methinks the lady doth protest too much" on the spot, sort of. It kind of fit but not really, I guess.
PQ: Ahahaha! It sounds like I would have quite enjoyed being a fly on the wall there.
PQ: Well, assuming there were walls nearby to be on.

Aaaaaand finally she remembered.

UB: Oh!
UB: I forgot the entire reason I bothered you, Lorelei.
UB: I was wondering: was that huge blast of light coming from your world something you did, maybe?
PQ: ...Wait, you saw that? All the way from your world?
UB: Yes, definitely.
PQ: My, my. Seems that little explosion did more than I expected... I do hope no one was potentially hurt by it.
UB: Explosion...?
PQ: Yes. I suppose it would be best to begin at the beginning, as it were...

Lorelei then regaled her with the tale of all that had happened to her after the angels first sent her to the caverns. Barely paying attention to where she was going in her journey, she read with wide eyes and amazement.

UB: That...that is amazing, really! It sounds like something out of a book, I think.
PQ: Ahaha, it kind of does, does it not?
PQ: But considering this is a game given tangible form, I am not terribly surprised. Nor would I suspect that other lands are bereft of stories like my own.
PQ: What has your land been like, anyway?

Smoke and the smell of burning bodies choked the air. In her distraction, Page had strode, without realizing it until that very moment, close to a disaster site. She could only stare at the small puddles of water where great ice walls had once been. She could only stare at the town, once standing far above her, now leveled to nothing but ash and burning bodies, nothing remaining that even reached her knee-height. Nothing save one, for what had caused this tragedy was still there, standing amongst the rubble it had wrought.

Death turned its eyes on the Page.

PQ: Page?

[Naevius]

Death was tall, taller than any structure the crocodiles had built. Death was lean, like a man days bereft of food. Death was wreathed in and composed of pure flame, shifting oranges and--most bizarrely--blacks, with a facsimile of a face composed of two ever-shifting spots of black flame for eyes and one below for its mouth. Death smelled of smoke, flame, sickness, and--above all else--itself.

But most of all, Death was terrifying. Every movement, every sight of it, begat a terror within the Page of Frost more intense than even one such as she had ever felt before. She was rooted to the spot

Ahriman the Soul-Eater, Death Incarnate, gazed upon his supposed Bane--the small, weak, pathetic girl who cowered and shook before him--and smiled a vicious, shifting flame-smile.

PQ: Page, what is the matter? Are you ok?

>Page: Abscond

It was the beep from her own glasses-computer that saved her life. The sudden outside sound jolted her out of her frozen shock long enough for her to notice Ahriman pointing at her. It took no leap of logic to guess that that might be a bad thing, so she immediately bolted to the side, narrowly dodging a blast of black flame aimed straight for her. Heart pounding, sweat pouring, mind racing, Page ran as fast as she could for the nearest shelter she could find--an old, stately forest--dodging and weaving all the way.

UB: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PQ: Oh, no. What is wrong? Do I need to head over there?

Page did not respond, for even were she not too busy attempting to dodge blasts of flames as Ahriman followed her in a slow, calm walk, she did not truly NOTICE the messages Lorelei was sending. Fear blinded her to everything but the immediate. A gout of flame narrowly missed her to the right, then to the left. Flames ate at the shoulder of her jacket, souvenirs from one of the many close calls, but she gave the heat and burning no heed, for greater danger bade her attention. As great as the pain may have been otherwise, she did not even notice it then.

The world erupted into black flame just in front of her, blocking her escape into a forest just a stone's throw away. She tried to run to the right, but found her way blocked. To the left, blocked again. Even advance towards her foe was impossible, for she found herself surrounded in a great ring of fire. Only now, caged and unable to flee further, did she notice the oppressive heat sapping her willpower and her strength, making the edges of the world fade and blur. And only then, as Ahriman strolled as casually as a giant fire demon could towards her, did she realize one thing:

He was toying with her, much as a cat plays to death with a mouse.

PQ: Hang on, Page! I am coming to help! I refuse to let you die!

===>

She refused. Strong words, and powerful ones. Backed by a will to match, they could shake worlds. John. Leni. Adelle. All the names and faces of everyone Lorelei had lost flashed through her mind in a long--far too long--list. She didn't know where exactly Page was or what was going on, but she knew one thing with absolute certainty: there would not be another name added to that list. Page, that adorable and bright young girl who was like a little sister to her, would not die. She would sooner tear down paradox space itself.

Lorelei, in that rarest of moments, believed it whole-heartedly. Doubt was wholly erased from her mind.

In the meadow of the Godswood, as the angels watched on, Lorelei crouched low, in preparation to leap upward. White energy crackled and glowed in a wide radius around her, before suddenly moving, as one, inward to Lorelei herself.

Silence and stillness for but the span of a breath. The calm before the storm.

In the nearby pilgrimage town outside the Godswood, the local residents had just finished wotting up a storm over the previous giant beam of light that had erupted from the Godswood. Though they had finished panicking and, in many cases, cheering and delighting, they by no means had finished talking amongst themselves about it. After all, in such a town there was precious little else to talk about anyway. Suddenly, however, the sound of and shockwave from what seemed to be an explosion knocked them straight off their feet, much as it had before.

Another bright beam of white magical light, though smaller than the previous one, flared from the Godswood and into the sky above them. For the second time that day, a beam of white light was visible in the sky from lands all across the Medium. This time, however, it did not head straight for the Furthest Ring: this light, and the woman flying with it, headed for the Land of Cold and Warmth.

===>

There was no escape.

Ahriman flashed one of his malicious, shifting black fire-smiles, and Page knew that there was no escape. Not without running straight into the very flames she had been trying to escape from. Ahriman raised his hand and formed a sword, larger than Page herself, from the same orange-and-black flame which composed the demon that held it, and Page knew there was no escape. Not without running into the fire itself.

So, Page did it. Whether by the noblest bravery or the meanest cowardice--or some combination thereof--Page turned from her pursuer and ran straight through the ring of fire it had created. Yet, rather than the expected burns and abject pain, she felt...nothing. As she passed through the demon's fire, it felt like a normal winter day on the land that was her own--quite in contrast to the oppressive heat which had been sapping her will and strength but moment's before. She did not stop to think about it. She ran into the forest as quickly as her legs could carry her--unburned and without any flames burning her clothing as before--and disappeared within. All of what she had learned chasing rabbits some time before came back in an instant, and the Page of Frost eluded the watchful eyes of the Soul-Eater.

She laid low, and for a time thought she had managed to escape danger.

Yet Ahriman the Destroyer would not give up the chase simply because a forest occluded his sight. With one sweep of his hands, a massive gout of flame set the whole forest ablaze. Page's sanctuary in an instant became a prison of smoke and flame.

UB: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PQ: Hold on, Page! I am coming! Just tell me where you are and I shall be there soon!

Staying within was death. Turning and fleeing towards Ahriman was death. Therefore, only one option presented itself: head further in, so as to leave the forest from a point far away from the Soul-Eater. A desperate move, but desperate times oft beget desperate measures. Page sprinted as quickly as she could further into the inferno raging around her, dodging fallen trees here and leaping over burning bramble there. Much as when braving Ahriman's fire, the heat was not quite so impressive as it seemed to be. She felt hot, unlike before, but it was more that of a summer's day than the depths of a burning forest.

But there was no escape.

Ahriman's searching eyes inexorably found her as she raced further inward. Ahriman wasted no time leaping from a standing position, sailing over Page's head, and landing right in her path, back turned. Page skidded to a halt, yelping in terror, with such suddenness she fell onto her back. That was enough. It was clear that Ahriman meant no more to play his sadistic games with her. He wasted no time turning towards her, raising that terrible orange and black flame-sword above his head, and bringing it down on her like an executioner's axe. The Page of Frost closed her eyes and prepared for death's coming embrace.

But it never came.

Tentatively, slowly Page opened her eyes and found...nothing. Where once a great demon of flame had been, nothing remained. Where once a blazing forest had been, only its charred remnants stood. Shaking like a leaf but barely believing her luck, Page stood up and looked all around, seeing no signs of her pursuer, only the results of his work. Only then, as the adrenaline in her veins was beginning to dial itself back, did she finally notice Lorelei's messages.

PQ: Page, answer me, please! I cannot help you if I do not know where you are!! Are you still there, are you alive??
UB: I'm...
UB: I'm fine...I think...
PQ: Oh, thank Jesus!
PQ: What happened? Are you hurt?
UB: N-n-n-no, I don't th-think so.
UB: Th-th-there was this big fire demon thing and-and-and-and it was attacking me and I'm in this burned out forest but it's gone now and-and-and-and-and
UB: I feel
UB: so
UB: very
UB: faint
UB: ...maybe...

Page's eyes rolled upward and she fell flat onto her face.

Naptime.

END ACT 2 CHARACTER ARC

-- Page Caldwell --

[solariumWistful]

When last we saw our intrepid hero, Dahlia...



...Actually who are we kidding? The word "hero" is a thing that has only ever been applied to Dahlia Asher in the official sense (that is, as the Hero of Space), and while we cannot accurately number them, the amount of fucks nobody gives about what Dahlia's been up to between here and there could be fairly described as "astronomical".

If one were feeling particularly puckish.

Which we are.

==>

-- inaneFixation [IF] started pestering spiraMirabilis [SM] --

IF: hi
IF: i had better be spelling this thing right. :T
IF: dahlia if this is you i'm building on your house.
SM: Nothing, huh?
SM: Man, I really do have all the luck.

For once, she wasn't just doomsaying.

...Actually let's be honest with ourselves here: in the span of something under twenty-four hours, Dahlia Asher has gone from the safety of her daily routine, to the sudden meteor apocalypse, to chasing what may or may not be a robot dinosaur through a subterranean tunnel network on a planet populated by talking blue iguanas in search of their missing Victorian-era building materials. In the meanwhile, the following had happened, in no particular order:

• Got her ass handed to her by her mother. Rather handily, even. This was such a common occurrence that it wasn't even worthy of noting, and she would have even been thankful for it since it was pretty much the only way the two of them ever really "communicated" anymore, except for the fact that said inglorious ass-kicking occurred in front of...
• Page, who holds the rare distinction of being one of three people who changed the course of her life, and the only of them who completely forgot about her afterward. Also some odd confusing feelings of attachment which just made life all the more difficult. Par for the course, given Dahlia's opinion of her own luck, but rather overshadowed by...
• The fact that Dahlia is not Dahlia, but in fact something called Subject Delta, which to her present knowledge was a secret project to create some manner of pseudo-cloned artificial life. Also there were meteors involved, and apparently it was the source of Sburb? Seriously there was no part of that which made it any less confusing than it already was, and her understanding of it all was certainly not aided by the fragmentary presentation of what sparse historical records there were. It was almost like someone was explicitly trying to mess with her for dramatic effect.
• Told she was the replacement for some other guy everyone liked (or at least tolerated), which according to Guardian was unusual enough (the replacing, that is, not the tolerating), except that apparently she was supposed to have been in that spot all along, evinced clearly by the fact that her clock was already there. Except she's not aware of that, given that said clock is back in her home universe somewhere, and she had long since accepted that her chances of seeing that place again were roughly on par with the average person's chances of being killed by a falling star.
• More Page stuff. Really didn't want to think about that anymore. For... reasons.
• Got sent off to chase a/some dinosaur/s by a bunch of overexcited lizards of questionable intellect and grasp of English vocabulary, which is where she finds herself now.
• Destroyer's Apostle. Yeah, we're just gonna leave that whole thing alone. Crazy goddamn lizard cultists is what's up. Preparing the world for a change? The only change this world needs is to stop sucking.

Given all this, it was understandable that Dahlia gave as few fucks as humanly (or otherwise) possible about any portion of what was going on right now. Including the conversation, which she once again found herself only barely paying attention to as she sprinted through dimly-lit caverns in pursuit of a dinosaur and/or dinosaurs and/or armored dinosaurs and/or a factory and/or robots and/or quite possibly an armored robot dinosaur factory, because between paying attention a conversation which drew attention to her failed trolling attempts and doing whatever ridiculous thing she was doing at the moment, Dahlia Asher vastly preferred the option that was only privately shameful.

Armo-dino-robo-factory-saurs it is, then.

And also conversation. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she cursed her ability to multitask. For the sake of our readers' sanity, however, we'll do our best to keep it to the relevant snippets. After all, you've all read this before, haven't you?

SM: I hope it doesn't come to open violence too soon. I was kind of looking forward to stabbing you all myself, instead.
SM: That was a joke. You'll have to forgive my mood. I just spent far longer than I wanted to listening to idiot lizards rambling about pancakes, and before that

and before that I was doing all those things I said above that I really don't want to be thinking about right now so can we change the subject, please and fuck you.

And try not to take those last four words as a clustered literal sentiment. That would be lame and unfunny.

And so she changed the subject.

Mostly by swearing loudly in a way that was absolutely guaranteed to ruin whatever element of surprise she may have had in pursuit of her quarry, but damn it, she almost got the little bastard. Thing. Robot? She was definitely thinking robot now. At first it was just the clanking noise that made her suspect -- perhaps there was a factory down here or something, who knows, crazier things have happened -- but now she was quite certain that the shiny metal thing she was pursuing was most definitely either a robot, or something doing its very best to impersonate a robot. Chasing a steam-belching robot through a maze of twisty little passages on a planet populated by Victorian English talking blue iguanas and the entire cast of The Land Before Time. This was her life. And it was ending one stupid non sequitur at a time.

SM: I don't know why people keep trying to throw swords at me.
SM: I mean I know why she did, she was trying to kill me.
IF: maybe she was apologizing for something? <_<

Were she feeling a bit more introspective, Dahlia might have pondered at this point just what it said about her, that the company she kept (that being Gita, whom Zach was clearly referring to) were the sort of people who could chuck swords at you and not even seem out of the ordinary. Instead she vaguely pondered the question of just how long it had been since she was actually introspective, rather than just snarking and kicking her own ass without ever really learning anything.

She then decided that the fucks she didn't give-- oh you heard this one already? Alright then.

Somewhere around there, the clanking little monster had well and truly given its pursuer the slip, leaving Dahlia groping around in the darkness at what seemed to be a dead end. To nobody's surprise, she immediately and correctly surmised that there was some manner of trap door in the rock wall which had enabled the imp-sized robot to make its escape, because it's not like that wasn't tremendously obvious or anything. Finding the latch, however, proved rather more difficult -- impossible, in fact, and eventually she gave up on clawing uselessly at the wall. Perhaps they had some sort of emitter that allowed them passage, rather than relying on such hackneyed literary devices as secret switches. So much for that idea.

Blowing up the wall was one possibility. A rocket pack (like the one presently residing in her sylladex) rigged properly would probably suffice for explosives. The problem there, being underground, would be the potential of triggering a cave-in in ways that she hadn't planned for, and while running around doing quests for retarded blue lizards was not especially high on the list of Things Dahlia Wants To Do Today Or Ever, it ranked rather higher than spending the remainder of her relatively short life trapped underneath a ton of rock. So that one was out too.

As the adrenaline filtered out of her system, it suddenly dawned on Dahlia that on top of all the running around she'd done lately, she also hadn't slept in something very nearly approaching forever and a day, give or take an eternity. She slumped against the cave wall, catching her breath as she finished the remainder of her conversation with Zach. There was nothing more to accomplish here; she would return with a plan, or at least a stick of dynamite. Perhaps both. Concluding the equally-exhausting exchange with her longtime victim, Dahlia pushed off the wall and began trudging out of the cave, bidding farewell to her new victim-to-be.

Next time, door.

Next time.

==>

Some time later, Dahlia returned to her house, which was now equipped thanks to Zach with several new devices which she spent some time toying with (most of which just ended up making a green ectoplasmic mess on the floor), and a substantial cache of grist which she would put to use in an alchemy montage which would put all her prior wastefulness to shame. There would be time for sleep in a few hours, but for now, she would scour the house for anything and everything that might potentially make interesting tools, weapons, or outfits. She would conclude the venture with a sylladex stuffed full of useful gadgets, fully equipped to handle whatever challenge came her way. And it would all be set to a thoroughly appropriate soundtrack for getting shit done, just like she said.

> [S] DA: Alchemy montage

Nope screw that.

END ACT 2 CHARACTER ARC

-- Subject Delta --
-- God's Favorite Chew Toy --
-- Destroyer's Apostle --
-- Dahlia Asher--

[Ripcord]

>Peter: Survey wreckage



Well that went well. You'd say that apart from the whole 'being exploded off of a tank' and 'almost dying' and probably also 'actually dying sort of' thing, that plan that may or may not be considered yours was a success! The tank is gone, your house is safe and

aw who are you kidding that whole thing was an embarassing clusterfuck. You wonder how other you is doing. Maybe there's a chance he'll make it.

===>


...Oh.

That was sudden.

You'd expected him to at least have something to say before kicking the purely metaphorical bucket. Some last words, maybe something funny? But no. You... he just went and died. Nobody even noticed it happening. And now you have to deal with your own corpse. You've never really disposed of a body before. Hell, you just stuck your aunt in the closet when she bit it. But you think someone here has, and you think you might need help.

And you also think you're going to regret this.

SHOW PESTERLOG

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-- absoluteTranquility [AT] started pestering guardianGrognard [GG] --


AT: How do you get rid of your own body without permanently scarring anyone?
GG: What I do is captchalogue 'em and get rid of the card.
GG: Found your first dead you, eh? Best get used to it.
AT: Not really found
AT: He kinda saved my ass.
AT: And I don't think the satchel modus will hold him.
AT: Me.
GG: Have any rivers you could hide the body in or someplace you could burn it?
GG: All else fails, an unmarked grave in the middle of fuckoff nowhere, your land, isn't bound to be somethin' your friends notice.
AT: There's no dirt here, just a bunch of skyscrapers.
AT: I'd throw him off but that basically guarantees i'll find the body later. :/
AT: ...
AT: So far this is basically the worst conversation.
GG: I'm used to it by now, but I bet it is for you.
GG: Hmm.
GG: Any chance you can alchemize something to burn the body with, and just burn it in some desolate alleyway of your land where no one'll notice?
AT: I guess.
AT: That might freak out the snakes if they see me though.
AT: Say where the hell did randy and that other guy go?
AT: god what is it with people popping up and disappearing like that
GG: Yeah, 's another thing t'get used to.
GG: Who's Randy, though?
AT: Snake.
AT: He's kind of a moron.
AT: I don't think he'll turn up again though. if he does i probably won't be able to tell it's him anyway.
AT: Anyway
AT: Disposing of my own body without letting anyone notice.
AT: Should I just throw him on the exploded tank?
GG: Maybe bury him under some of th'debris?
GG: Prob'ly best not to devote too much effort to gettin' rid of your body anyway.
GG: That can get morbid.
AT: ...
AT: Fine.

>Peter: Dispose of corpse.

You place one portal next to the wreckage and the other on the wall next to you.

===>



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===>



Stupid normal people and their stupid depth perception.

===>



In you go, buddy.

===>



===>



SHOW PESTERLOG

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GG: Stare at 'em all ya want, that blood's not comin' off without soap and water.
AT: Yeah.
AT: New subject. Who's this douchebag in the polo shirt? He punched me in the face earlier. :/
AT: Lorelei says he wasn't one of her servants.
GG: All right, understandable if y'don't want to talk about it.
GG: Polo shirt, though?
GG: Don't know anyone with a polo shirt.
GG: I'm not omniscient when it comes to your session, just know most of th'big events.
GG: Maybe one of the other kids' guardians?
GG: Ask around if anyone has a dad or uncle who's a mike tyson wannabe with horrible fashion sense.
AT: Hah.
AT: K I'll try that.
AT: First things first though.

>Peter: Replace jacket



It was a coat but okay.

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AT: Heeee
GG: What
GG: THE FUCK
GG: are you wearing?
AT: Blinky computerjacket.
AT: It's surprisingly comfy.
GG: Do you have ANY fuckin' idea JUST WHAT THAT THING I-...
GG: No.
GG: No, 'course you don't. You're just some kid.
GG: Protip, kid:
GG: That jacket you're wearing?
GG: Looks just fucking like a jacket worn by a universe-devouring demon that just LOOOOOOVES to fuck with people all 'cross the multiverse.
AT: Sweeeet.
AT: I think.
AT: Yeah it's sweet.
AT: Hey do you think I should stick with the scythe or...
GG: GOD DAMN IT, IT'S NOT SWEET.
GG: Do you have any idea how many lives I've seen ruined because of English?!
GG: Take that stupid shit off or I swear to God I will be there five seconds ago to rip it from your CORPSE!
AT: My corpse wasn't wearing one.
GG: Oh HA-FUCKING-HA
AT: And I'm keeping it. :/[/b]
GG: ........Ugh.
GG: Fine, dumbass kid. Wear some gaudy piece of shit that's associated with the hugest fucking murderer to ever exist.
GG: You're a kid. You're SUPPOSED to be fucking stupid. It's been so long since my child-rearing days I forgot that.
GG: Whatever.
GG: Also, scythes are garbage weapons, but I've seen worse.
AT: Well up yours too, jackass.
AT: Halberd it is.
AT: I think is what you call this.

===>



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GG: What IS your specibus?
AT: Polekind
AT: Not my best choice but OH WELL.
GG: 'Least it seems ripe for loophole abuse, since you can use halberds and scythes and shit.
GG: Think spears fall under it too?
AT: Yeah but I have a pretty shit throwing arm. :/
AT: This is better 'cause it has an axe and a pointy tip.
AT: (not like it matters, i'm terrible at using poles anyway)
GG: Spears are primarily melee weapons, really.
GG: Actually, I can teach you how to fight, if you want. Not just normally, but how to use your Time powers as a weapon.
GG: Few people are as tough as a Hero of Time who knows what he's doin'.
AT: I think i can figure it out.
GG: Kid, I've been at this for millenia. Plural.
GG: You really don't think I could teach ya somethin' useful?
AT: ...
AT: Well you really haven't so far. :/
GG: What chance have I had?
AT: >hiding body
AT: >dealing with own corpses
AT: >finding polo shirt douchebag
AT: >???
GG: I gave you plenty of ideas for corpse disposal.
GG: If by the second one you mean "dealing with the emotional ramifications of finding my own body" then it's really hard to help anyone with that--it's usually something you just have to come to terms with yourself--and you didn't want t'talk about it besides.
GG: The third isn't teaching, it's finding someone, and I DID help you with that.
GG: You're 0 for 3, there, at least from where I'm standin'.
AT: From where you're standing kids throwing out their own bodies is normal and a green blinky jacket is the physical embodiment of ultimate evil.
AT: And that really doesn't seem helpful to me. :/
AT: Look I can figure this shit out, except maybe the polearms thing but I'll worry about that if i ever even need to attack someone directly.
AT: And that doesn't happen a lot.
GG: Fine, wh
GG: AUGH, WHAT THE FUCK
GG: ALDKHGAKJDHG;AJGBHJGAHF;LFH
GG: LAHGAOIETUPOAINOKBN;IUAGHIAJBGAJGNAJKGBAG
GG: GET OFF ME, WHAT THEAKHGOSUFHGOIAHJTOAHNUG
GG: Ahem.
AT: Hey, you ARE crazy!
AT: Called it. 1 for 4.
GG: No, see, this is future Temujin. I was just kicking current me, the one you're talking to, off.
GG: So...fuck, I guess you're still right.
GG: Whatever.
GG: Point is, he's going to be sorry for blowing up at you over the jacket thing eventually.
GG: That's retarded and you're retarded.
GG: FUCK OFF
GG: Start acting like the old man you claim to be!
GG: YEAH, THAT SOUNDS GOOD. LEMME JUST GO GRAB A PAIR OF DEPENDS AND A WALKER AND WE CAN YELL AT PEOPLE ON OUR LAWN
GG: JACKASS
GG: Whatever.
GG: Point is, sorry.
GG: Ok, I'll let the asshole you were talking to have the computer back.
AT: I think my aunt had a condition like this.
AT: I could get you her pills if you need them
GG: If time travel could be fixed by medicine, woulda taken those pills sweeps ago.
GG: Ugh.
GG: You'll be lucky if your past and future selves have the fuckin' sense to leave you alone.
AT: Sweeps=asshole years right?
AT: Cause the trolls keep using that word.
GG: 2.16 years roughly, yeah.
GG: Lived with trolls a long time, so I started picking up their lingo.
GG: Never realized how weird it might be before I started having to interact with humans again.
AT: I think the depressing thing is it's not weird to me anymore.
AT: I'm covered in blood and torn between suffusing my hands in the metacarpal decontamination unit, having a dip in the ablution trap, or blowing the fuck out of Lohqua's goddamn husktop before she trolls me again.
GG: Did you just make all that shit up?
GG: 'Cause those are spot-on terms for troll shit.
AT: No, I did not make them up. >_____<
AT: Have you ever tried getting her to stop talking?
AT: IT'S NOT FUCKING EASY
GG: Ehehehe. Got a bad case of hatefriends, eh?
AT: APPARENTLY
GG: Normally I'd say just ignore 'em until they gave up. "Don't feed the trolls" and all that.
AT: That's harder than it sounds. She feeds mostly on fish and misery.
AT: Did you know spine-backed gillreapers are delicious?
AT: Apparently.
GG: So I've heard as well.
GG: Anyway, this is Lohqua.
GG: You're basically fucked.
GG: Sorry to say it, but it's true.
AT: Yeah I figured.
AT: On the bright side I'm practically trilingual after sifting through her rants.
GG: Don'tcha feel all warm and fuzzy from the cultural awareness all over the place?
AT: "Warm and fuzzy" means moldy, right?
AT: Like, some kind of smelly blue alien fuzz is growing on my worldly culture bread?
AT: If so, yes.
GG: And about the same capacity to make ya nauseous and vomit, yep.
AT: http://mlkshk.com/r/2HUV
GG: Heh.
GG: Anyway, have anything else you need to ask me about or do you want to go futz about with your time shit and probably end up five hundred years in the past, worshipped as a god by the primeval forms of the consorts or what-the-hell-ever?
AT: Nah, you can go yell at Page from a lawn chair.
AT: I've got something I just realized I need to work on.
GG: Not sure even I could yell at her.
GG: 'll give it the old college try, I gues.
GG: See you.

-- guardianGrognard [GG] ceased pestering absoluteTranquility [AT] --

===>



Life is short. You, the Seer of Time, of all people, should know this. Surely you've heard the saying, seen proof in the form of your dead parents, but you've never actually let yourself believe it. Now, you're not so sure. In the blink of an eye, your life was ended. One false step, not even yours, was enough to finish you. If your double hadn't acted in his last seconds, that could have been permanent. Bam. No more Seer. No more papercraft, no more portals. No more bold text or good-natured snark. (You said good-natured.) If that was just a moment of carelessness, you wonder how many times everyone else will fall to their mistakes. Considering how many you've all made so far... If and when they die, it's your job to make sure it doesn't happen again. You'll need to be ready for the inevitable at all times, prepared to throw yourself back through the folds of time before that reality becomes the reality. And when you do, you'll need to be ready to give your life. After all, you're their Seer. You're the boy with all the time in the world.

===>



And no time at all.

show spoiler

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((Screw you guys I'm not doing the end of arc thing))

[Ripcord]

-- inaneFixation [IF] started pestering guardianGrognard[GG] --

IF: hey
IF: quick question. what does it mean if you're knocked out and your dreamself doesn't wake up?
GG: Well, if it ain't flyboy.

SHOW PESTERLOG

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GG: Usually? Means he's dead.
GG: Yours is fine, though. I personally decked th'guy trying to haul you off to the slammer.
GG: (the slammer being what you call prison when you're mad at criminals, I hear)
GG: But y'didn't wake up on Derse at all?
IF: nope.
IF: it was more like
IF: some weird black void.
IF: there was a guy there but i didn't get a good look at him.
GG: Well, I think y'might have taken a trip to the dream bubbles, possibly.
GG: (One crack about me sounding like that Page kid and I will end you)
GG: Long story short, they function as both the afterlife and what players with dead dream selves dream of. Hard t'explain, you kinda have to experience it to really get what they are. Kinda formed of your memories, but you can also interact with other dream bubbles as well.
IF: so he was dead? :/
IF: god i am never taking my derseshades off again.
IF: will i go back there if i try sleeping now?
GG: Dead or dreamin' like you. Likely the former if he was a human you don't recognize.
GG: And to answer your question, I don't rightly fuckin' know. Your session just loves to throw curveballs at me like this.
GG: It's like I'm the star hitter of a team and this session has put its best pitcher to take me down, but I stumbled onto the diamond drunk and clearly high on at least five kinds of drugs, so I'm just swinging ineffectually at the balls while yelling shit about space aliens and anal probing and everyone else just kinda sighs and watches as a cultural icon defaces himself in front of a crowd.
GG: ...Yeah, I kinda lost my handle on that one.
GG: Point is.
GG: Hell if I know.
GG: Never seen a case where someone can get ta the dreaming bubbles without a dead dream self!
IF: http://tinyurl.com/bmusvyf
IF: so there's no point worrying because nobody can do jack, huh. XD
GG: Hehehahahaha
GG: Oh god that fits way too much.
GG: Man, earth lost a fucking LUMINARY when that guy got a faceful of meteor for breakfast.
GG: But yeah, I don't know whether your dream self will "wake back up" again or not. Just gotta wait 'n see.
IF: welp.
IF: not gonna' check, i actually have to get stuff done. why i put this off for nearly two days, nobody will ever know.
GG: Put off what for two days?
IF: land shit. going to go do
IF: denizen things i think.
IF: that sounds pretty dumb though i mean denizens are like huge bosses right?
IF: steven was very vague and... didn't actually tell me what i'm supposed to be doing right now.
GG: There's a reason for that. Best if you find out yourself, I've found. Though I'm here if you're absolutely stumped as to what ya need to be doing.
IF: well i think i was supposed to go through the gate.
IF: y/n
GG: hy
IF: :I
IF: ...
IF: well excersize is good right?
GG: You're gonna sleep well tonight, that's sure as shit.
IF: yaaaaaay more dead people!
IF: (shoot me now please)
GG: Pbbt, like it'd change anything.
GG: I'd have to either smooch your corpse to revive you or let your dreamself die, and either way you'd STILL have to deal with dead people.
IF: ...FMD?
IF: just in case i have to go back though what's proper dead person etiquette?
IF: if it's just a void it's like
IF: "what's up?" "standing in nothing for eternity" "that's cool" "there's a sword in my chest. that's how i died." "...i see"
IF: unless that doesn't happen but still there've gotta' be some rules here.
GG: Just treat 'em like you would any stranger.
GG: If they've been outright seeking you out, they'll get ta talking about why soon enough.
GG: If they just stumbled across you then, well, whatever.
GG: Normally, though, you'll probably only interact via shared memories. You'll spend the first bit reliving a memory with someone until one of you realizes that they're asleep or dead or whatever. Then I guess you can chat about what the fuck ever. Can even go through in your dream bubbles places and people you've seen.
GG: 'S how I show my wife what I've been up to, for example.
IF: doesn't that mean i know this guy?
GG: Were you involved with a memory that you shared? If not, then he prob'bly just chanced across your dream bubble.
GG: Given how paradox space works I'm inclined to wonder if he's important in some way, but if ya didn't get a good look at him guess there's no way to know.
IF: nope just black.
IF: oh well. maybe i'll find out later.
GG: Knowin' paradox space, you're probably right.
GG: Never doubt its capacity to make the most insignificant, minor shit be SUPER IMPORTANT later.
IF: how's that-
IF: fuck hold on.

-- cerbericCommando [CC] began trolling inaneFixation [IF] --

CC: YOU MOTHERFUCKER
IF: excuse me?

===>


SHOW PESTERLOG

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CC: THE TABS
CC: THEY'RE EVERYWHERE
CC: NOTHING BUT TABS ABOUT ALL THE INANE HUMAN BULLSHIT EVERYWHERE
CC: HOW DID I GET TO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR DEAD ALIEN LEADER HAVING TRAPPED HIMSELF IN THE ABLUTION TRAP DUE TO HIS CORPULENT GIRTH
CC: THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT
IF: now those are some familiar words
IF: wikipedia right?
IF: yeah felett said pretty much the same thing when i gave him a link to http://tvtropes.org
IF: and then he smashed my face into my keyboard with his mind and told me never to link human garbage to anyone ever again.
IF: i think he might have had the right idea though. :/
CC: FUCK YOU, I AM NOT CLICKING THAT LINK
CC: NO
CC: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
CC: I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE AND YOU ARE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT ANY WORSE
IF: oh man.
IF: um
IF: hold on it's here somewhere
IF: i made a program to keep this exact thing from happening to me but eventually grew out of it and buried it somewhere.
IF: ah, here it is.

--inaneFixation sent file BRICKIPEDIA.exe--

CC: OK FINE
IF: i should probably warn

-- cerbericCommando's computer exploded! --

IF: you
IF: uh.

-- cerbericCommando [CC] began trolling inaneFixation [IF] --

CC: so.
CC: my computer's sudden detonation forced me to go through the process of alchemizing a new one. the effort gave me some time to reflect.
CC: my apologies for lashing out at you, human.
IF: jesus christ.
IF: how many tabs did you have open?!
IF: that thing was supposed to slow your computer down with each one until it overheated but it always just crashed at sixty for me :/
CC: i would rather not think about the whole experience.
CC: suffice it to say it was a lot.
CC: this is just after my computer exploded from your point of view, correct? these sliders are tricky business.
IF: yeah. i stopped messing with them after i looked at guardian's timeline
IF: luckily my computer survived that
IF: (sorry)
CC: far preferable that i lose a replaceable item than continue in that hell.
CC: anyway
CC: i see the female isn't with you. you parted ways?
IF: 'the female'?
IF: dude come on she has a name.
IF: ...i probably shouldn't tell you though she's a little weird about it.
IF: call her jm i guess?
IF: but yeah.
CC: out of curiosity, are you able to fare against the monsters Sgrub throws at you at all?
CC: i'm curious as to how a less martially adept species handles it.
IF: less adept?
IF: i get that i'm not as psychic as you guys but i can still beat up some ogres. :/
IF: and sis is like a blackbelt or something
CC: your sister may be different (though i'm not sure what the color of her belt has to do with it), but don't most humans not see any combat growing up?
CC: that was what i was led to believe in my time spend on that infernal site.
IF: (blackbelt is like a high martial arts rank. i'm not sure of the details but she's a really good kickboxer.)
IF: most don't but we're doing fine. except maybe page, i haven't talked to her about them.
IF: but that's what the gun is for. :V
CC: i see. i wonder if the game is less difficult for species such as yours or if the difficulty is kept the same...?
IF: i don't know anything about your session so i can't say.
IF: but i think you might be underestimating us.
IF: like a lot.
CC: i hardly think it's odd to imply you're weaker than a species like mine bred for war and conquest.
CC: you may be quite competent, indeed. i just doubt you're as martially competent as trolls.
IF: well no shit you guys have psychic powers and a (probably evil) space empire. :/
IF: of course some of you will end up tougher, you get killed if you don't.
IF: and now WE get killed if we suck so we don't get to do that anymore. :V
CC: i hardly expect an alien to respect our Empire.
CC: seems you agree with what i said, though, so no reason to get testy about it. good luck with your trial by fire, though.
CC: i don't suppose you want me to go and start telling timeline spoilers about how it all turns out.
CC: not that i could find out, either way...
IF: yeah i black out, i remember. :I
IF: not even going to ask about that.
CC: if it helps to know, your highblood leader blacks out sooner than the rest of you.
CC: you might want to look out for that in the future.
IF: i'd look out for it now but a crocodile took my omnishades.
IF: should i warn her about that?
IF: (the blackout, not the croc. i kind of doubt he's the problem here.)
CC: up to you. you know her better than i do.
IF: okay i guess i probably
IF: woah. that's
IF: kind of a lot of lizards. :I

===>



CC: that's a quest hook if i ever saw one.
IF: they look scared.
IF: i don't see any monsters though.
IF: ...
IF: wait.

===>



IF: they're right behind me aren't they.
IF: yeah that figures.
IF: i don't think they know i see them though.
CC: in my experience, few enemies are more vulnerable than those who falsely believe they have the drop on you.
IF: heheheh
IF: weaker species, you said?
IF: start a timer.

===>



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===>

[Ripcord]

===>



===>



ZACH: oh yeah?
ZACH: i can do that too!
===>



Warning.

===>



Battery at four hundred percent maximum capacity.
ZACH: that works!

===>



===>




SHOW PESTERLOG

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CC: just under three minutes.
CC: not bad.
CC: points for style too.
IF: that was kind of fun. i think i broke a tooth though.
IF: where'd my sword go? i dropped it right here. >:/
CC: i can't see it so it must have flown off somewhere outside my viewport's view.
CC: i'm afraid you get demerits for losing your weapon. that's a big no-no in the military here. don't know if it's the same for you humans.
IF: yeah...
IF: if anyone asks it was stolen by crocodiles.
IF: that totally didn't just happen. :I
CC: is losing your weapon to a retarded lizard really less embarrassing to you than losing it in the heat of battle?
IF: no but let's face it, it's more believable.
CC: that kind of thing's par for the course for you, i take it?
IF: just talk to any of my friends and ask what they think happened. that should answer your question.
CC: it's kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy if you only further validate that belief in them, isn't it?
IF: you think i want to be the guy who gets beaten up by kittens? >:/
IF: shit happens, and i think they noticed it happens to me a lot.
CC: you were beaten up by kittens?
CC: kittens.
IF: the one that did it tackled a robot out a window minutes later. not my fault. :I
CC: that
CC: is a remarkably badass feline.
IF: all of them were like that. ._.
IF: ALL OF THEM.
CC: ...huh.
CC: mine just seem to be remarkably retarded wolves.
IF: the rest of them are idiots too, it's really weird.
IF: except they give me these weird looks kind of like they're trying to plan something but can't because they're distracted by something shiny.
CC: that's probably just your imagination. you've come to expect bad things to happen, so it's no surprise you interpret what could be completely innocuous as potential to do you harm.
CC: ...then again, the cats did attack you...
IF: yeah you're probably right. these salamander guys look pretty harmless.
IF: and they're definitely not glaring at me like i'm hellspawn. :I
CC: good luck, all the same, zach.
CC: by the way, did you need anything else from me for your engineering projects?
IF: no thanks
IF: if i really need something i think i can ask guardian, he's got a shitload of stuff in-
IF: wait
IF: fuck.

GG: Sure.
GG: Whatever, you're taking forever, just gonna assume you're busy. Contact me again if you have anything else you wanna say.

-- guardianGrognard [GG] ceased pestering inaneFixation [IF] --

IF: whoops.


SHOW PESTERLOG

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IF: uh
IF: yeah. no thanks.
CC: what was that all about?
IF: i was talking to him about weird afterlife bullshit and then you started flipping out.
IF: do you know how any of that works? :/
CC: uh, sorry about that.
CC: afterlife bullshit, though?
CC: i...wasn't aware there was any afterlife bullshit at all.
CC: i mean, i had hopes that there was, but...
IF: well there is and apparently it's based on memories?
IF: i was only asking him about it 'cause apparently that's where you go when your dreamself is either dead or
IF: i dunno corrupted i guess.
IF: http://tinyurl.com/bmusvyf
IF: (i don't think that thing will ever not be useful.)
CC: that
CC: is
CC: quite the head of hair that human has.
CC: is that normal hair fashion for your species...?
IF: nah this guy's just kind of
IF: off.
CC: good to hear.
CC: i'm sure the use of that image is some terribly hilarious joke in your culture.
CC: though some of the humor value is retained for me thanks to his hair.
CC: by God, what was he thinking when he woke up that evening?
IF: "damn, i can't find my tinfoil hat!"
IF: but yeah horrorterrors and clusterfucks and dead people.
IF: do you happen to know any short guys with pointy hair?
CC: felett?
IF: oh
IF: ...duh
IF: problem solved i guess. XD
IF: did his dreamself die or something?
CC: not to my knowledge.
CC: i wonder if that really matters, though. is an afterlife connected to our own perceptions of linear time? i mean, i effectively exist parallel to your own timeline. i could view a time when you're dead, if i had the handle of someone who lived beyond you, just as easily as i'm looking at you now.
CC: in the long run, we're ALL dead.
IF: man talk to temujin that crap hurts my head. :I
IF: all i know was
IF: nothing.
IF: hell he might not have even been dead his dreamself could just be horrorterrorized like mine.
CC: "horrorterrorized"?
IF: shut up.
IF: you know what i mean.
IF: did he stare at the giant wads of tentacle for too long?
CC: no?
CC: he's still asleep. i wasn't aware that was something you could do.
IF: prospit or derse?
CC: me? prospit.
IF: ah.
IF: well yeah you can definitely do that on derse.
IF: usually it doesn't do much but like i said this session is apparently all kinds of messed up.
CC: i'll let you know if felett ever finds himself...knocked out by a horrorterror or something.
CC: i should probably let you see to whatever those lizards of yours need, though.
IF: oh yeah.
IF: later dude

-- inaneFixation [IF] ceased pestering cerbericCommando [CC] --

===>



They still look scared for some reason. Dammit, what did you do this time? You calmly tell them that you're not going to hurt anyone except maybe some monsters you guess. They tell you they're not even worried about monsters anymore and that what's in the tower is much worse than any underling you've seen. You say you can handle it. They say their janitors wouldn't like to see you try. You ask what is it, anyway? They all start yelling nigh indecipherable gibberish and blowing spit bubbles. You start sneaking towards the stone tower. One of them says wait, it's dangerous to go alone. He says take this.

>Zach: Take thing.



This is absolutely ridiculous and probably several kinds of useless. Where did he even find this thing? You say thanks you think and back away slowly because they're all staring at you. One of them tries to be all sneaky and whispers something about getting the grave ready but you can totally hear him.

===>



===>







You admit you're a little worried about all of this. You were able to pick out some of what the crowd said, and none of it sounded too good. Apparently their friend lost his mind and attacked? Left the whole tower in ruins by the looks of...

===>



Oh.

Oh wow.

[Ripcord]

>Zach: Ask friend about thing.



-- inaneFixation [IF] started pestering philosopherQueen [PQ] --

SHOW PESTERLOG

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IF: hey
IF: i'm a bit late but what was with that giant beam earlier? was that you?
PQ: Oh! Hello, Zach.
PQ: That was actually me, yes.
PQ: 'Tis quite a long story behind that, but I shall tell it if you wish. All I am doing right now is flying Page back to her library.
IF: i think i have time to hear it
IF: there's not much going on down here so whatever spooked everyone probably left?
IF: also is page okay
PQ: She is fine, bizarrely enough.
PQ: I mean, a while ago she was apprently being chased by some huge fire demon!
PQ: But it just disappeared right before it could potentially end her life.
PQ: I simply found her passed out--likely from fright--here in a burned forest.
PQ: Yet there is no fire around and Page does not seem hurt or the least bit burnt at all.
IF: well
IF: that is some pretty spooky shit. :I
IF: did she ever wake up on derse by the way? i mean that's like
IF: the third time she's passed out in the last two days? (i'm one to talk)
IF: that's gotta' do something.
PQ: ...You know, I do not know!
PQ: Perhaps she has. Then everyone would be awake!
PQ: Except Dahlia. Something tells me she shall be tough to wake up.
IF: ice water
IF: shock therapy
IF: loud noises
IF: hit her with a car
IF: i don't know. XD
PQ: Alas, we are distressingly short on motor vehicles, and I have the sneaking suspicion that would be what it would take!
PQ: Anyway
PQ: You wanted to hear the whole story behind the giant beam of light, right?
PQ: I am actually quite surprised that you and Page could see it from your planets...
IF: i wasn't exactly on my planet. :/
IF: gita and i were flying a rocket bathtub with no steering mechanism when we saw it.
IF: and THEN we (crash)landed on my planet and pretty much lost sight of everything that wasn't clouds.
IF: it was somewhere between almost fun and completely horrible.
PQ: A rocket bathtub.
IF: with hotrod flames, yes.
PQ: A rocket bathtub.
IF: admittedly not my best idea.
IF: she agreed and then went along with it anyway for some reason. :I
PQ: Ahahahahaaaa... I do not know whether that sounds horrible or amazing or what.
PQ: Perhaps a little from column A, a little from column B.
PQ: At least flitting about on a deathtrap like that is marginally better than the two of you fighting again. It implies some level of teamwork.
PQ: ANYWAY
PQ: We keep getting off-track here!
PQ: Florian can just eat his heart out, because 'tis storytime here, and I have quite a tale to spin.
PQ: (Florian being a servant of mine who has a big knack for telling stories).
PQ: To recount it in full would take as many hours as actually living through it, but the abridged version is thus:
PQ: One of the trolls, a new friend of mine and fellow Hope player, Khirun Kentar, directed me, shortly after I lost a battle against a Dersite who has the bizarre ability to direct the legions of monsters to his own will, towards the angels.
PQ: Have I told you about the angels yet? I honestly have forgotten just who I have talked with this about.
IF: i don't think so?
PQ: 'Tis apparently their duty to teach those who embody the element of Hope to master their powers. I was training with them before I flew off to Page's world.
PQ: When I first arrived there, I was told to venture to some nearby caverns, where I would be tested and would take my first steps down a path.
PQ: The caverns were...well, horrible.
PQ: An unnatural darkness filled them, twisting one's thoughts, breeding fear and depression and a feeling of surrender. The whispers were the worst. Always there, gnawing at the edges of my mind. Nothing intelligible, but somehow that made it worse.
PQ: My magic did not work when I first entered, and to add to it all I saw...things.
PQ: It would be for the best, I think, that I not drag up the skeletons in my closet right now, but suffice it to say what I saw only served to further that feeling of depression, fear, and surrender. It was trying to break my will.
PQ: It succeeded.
PQ: ...I ended up just barely being able to run before I was...I do not truly know.
PQ: Consumed?
PQ: That feels like the correct word.
PQ: It was after that that I ended up embarking on the train of events that involved taking those three lives that I mentioned in our last conversation.
IF: holy shit.
IF: i uh
IF: i walked around in the rain for like eight hours and crashed into some things today. now i'm underground.
IF: but yeah.
IF: sorry to hear all that.
PQ: Haha. It is fine, Zach. But thank you.
PQ: Honestly, I would probably prefer your adventures to my own.
PQ: But I get the feeling that the game is...I do not know, grooming me for something?
PQ: The angels keep mentioning a "transformation process" that I will inevitably choose--even though it seems odd to me that something can both be inevitable and a choice.
PQ: Still, better that I bear whatever burden may come than any of you. That is what friendleaders do, after all!
IF: bullshit.
IF: there's no way in hell we're letting you deal with everything all by yourself. :P
PQ: Hehehe. Thank you, Zach.
PQ: Anyway.
PQ: After that last conversation I had with you, I went off to return to the caverns to try once again, armed with the newfound knowledge that my magic was derived from no external source, but my own strength of will, and a concomitant newfound will to overcome the challenges ahead.
PQ: I contacted Khirun before entering once again, for moral support. This time I was able to keep the light shining as I entered.
PQ: Strangely enough, the darkness actually affected Khirun, even though she's off in...wherever the trolls are, simply due to her viewing me. The stronger my light was, the less it would affect her.
PQ: I suppose that is a testament to its rather eldritch power.
PQ: Anyway, with her help, I managed to get to the lower reaches of the caverns.
PQ: Then, at a moment when my will was beginning to flag from the constant psychological and emotional stress of simply being in the darkness, Ad-...
PQ: Well, the darkness had taken a form, you see. Human. Ish. Related to the aforementioned bones in my wardrobe.
PQ: Point is, it grabbed me, and in my panic and fear, I dropped my drill. The light went out entirely.
PQ: But I resolved not to let it win, not when I had come so far!
PQ: Without my drill as an aid and focus, I nevertheless managed to conjure up the light once again, stronger than ever.
PQ: I was--understandably so, I imagine--utterly sick of the place by that point. I could...sense, funnily enough, the direction of the darkness'...core, I guess you could say?
PQ: I took a gordian knot solution to the problem and shot a rather large beam of light through the walls blocking my path to the core.
IF: and that's what we saw?
PQ: No, actually, it was not.
PQ: The light, massive as it was, was utterly...well, devoured by the core when it hit it.
PQ: The core was this sort of small, black crystalline figure sitting on an unassuming pedestal about knee-height. For me, at least. For someone as tall as you I imagine it would be only up to your ankles! :P
PQ: I could think of no better way, after a bit of messing around, to destroy the thing. So I simply directed as much of my magic as I could into the thing.
PQ: It kept devouring it and devouring it, but I simply kept on the pressure.
PQ: Then the world just...turned white.
PQ: Next thing I knew, the caverns were gone. Just gone. Utterly blown to pieces. There was a hole in the clouds above!
PQ: And I was very, very tired.
PQ: I do imagine that the beam of light you saw while riding your little deathtrap was the beam of light that destroyed the caverns when the core "overloaded".
IF: i have to say, that is pretty awesome.
IF: fifteen boonbucks says that if i had done the same thing, thousands would have died and the planet would be torn in half. XD
IF: but i don't have magic so you're all safe for now. i do however have MOTHERFUCKING LIGHTNING PUNCHES under certain conditions.
PQ: Haha! Well, thank you. I am certainly glad to have gotten through it all right.
PQ: Lightning punches, though? Well, that definitely sound amazing! Related to the environment in your land, I take it?
IF: yep. apparently everyone else is using the storms to their advantage too, i was just slow to catch on.
IF: like down here they convert the electricity from the lightning into power for the shields keeping the ceiling up. which is pretty impressive for a bunch of retarded lizards.
IF: and my denizen is trying to take that power.
IF: and i guess their insane friend is just blowing all of the towers that collect the lightning because he's a dick?
PQ: The consorts have struck me as somewhat savant, if you ask me. As daft as my little turtles mostly are, with the odd exception, they MUST possess some level of skill to create things like that and the towering factory complexes, churches, walls, and other gold buildings of my own land.
PQ: Who is the "insane friend", though? I mean, do you know what it might be or the name? Somewhat odd that there is another antagonist besides the denizen.
PQ: ...Of course, I say that, forgetting that I have something like that too. Hurr hurr :B
IF: it's hard to say.

===>


SHOW PESTERLOG

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IF: they were all panicking when i asked about it but i think i heard a name?
IF: they called him 'serris'
PQ: ...Hmm. Well, if that is a mythological reference, 'tis one outside my knowledge.
IF: i think he's a boss from metroid. :/
PQ: What, really?
IF: that or the bad guy from galaxy quest.
IF: but not a mythological thing. google said no.
PQ: Huh. It just seems...odd.
PQ: Odd that a game revolving around the creation and destruction of worlds would borrow a name from some Earth game.
PQ: It is likely just a coincidence, though. Just as much one as the antagonist from galaxy quest and the boss from metroid sharing a name.
IF: maybe it's a fluke.
IF: i mean, guardian keeps going on and on about how fucked up our session is. maybe this thing is supposed to be unimportant but isn't this time.
PQ: Perhaps so. I suppose time shall tell, much as it likely shall for the many mysteries that plague my OWN land.
IF: oh well, i'll worry about that when it shows up.
IF: which might be sooner than i want.
IF: *will definitely
PQ: Something tells me it shall be so for the both of us.
IF: don't get me wrong, i want this guy to hurry up and do whatever.
IF: tbh i'm pretty bored with walking in circles. :I
IF: and the gilded bowels of losas are only slightly better because nobody's around to give me quests right now.
PQ: "Gilded bowels"? Do tell!
IF: that is literally what they named this place.
IF: there is a big sign right above me letting me know this. :/
IF: but i guess it fits. i wish i had a camera. XD
PQ: Well, what is it like? Besides being recesses decorated with gold, I mean.
IF: kinda' like something you would see in an indiana jones movie only less old i guess?
IF: it's this big quiet fancy city and there aren't many monsters that i can see so this is probably what the solace part means.
PQ: Sounds like an interesting place to explore, then.
PQ: Try not to get crushed by any large boulders! (Hahahaha, terrible joke)
IF: SHHH
IF: i'm underground and there's a psycho here and you do NOT say things like that. >:I
PQ: Right, sorry.
PQ: I hope you alchemized a whip, at least.
PQ: (Ok, I should just stop while I'm only REALLY behind)
IF: i should probably do that actually
IF: i need like
IF: some kind of kickass multitool or something because i don't get any cool powers. :/
PQ: To be honest, I am somewhat surprised to learn that you never tried to create something like that before this game, given your engineering prowess.
IF: i did try. it works great but i only have like a tenth of it done. XD
IF: you know iron man? (of course you do)
IF: that's what i would have done with tons of money if i had it. :P
PQ: You know, I had always planned, upon inheriting the Von Hayek empire, to give you a very sizeable grant just to see what you would do with it.
PQ: I wanted it to be a surprise when it happened.
PQ: But I suppose that is just one of the many things that shan't be occurring thanks to this game. "So it goes" as Guardian would say.
IF: pfff
IF: on that note do you know what booncash does?
PQ: Well, they seem, at least in my world, to be the form of currency used amongst the consorts. Peter and I invested some of ours into an underground stock market on my own land.
PQ: Reminds me that I need to check up on that at some point.
PQ: Anyway, considering we receive them from levelling up, I imagine we are meant to buy things from the consorts at some point.
PQ: New gear would seem redundant given the process of alchemy.
IF: if the consorts are selling it then it's probably something like
IF: i dunno, bug stew or mushroom hats.
IF: or sand.
IF: i bet sand goes for a lot around here.
PQ: I actually had some of the local cuisine today. The less I think about what it contained the better, truly...
PQ: Sand is everywhere in your land, though, right?
PQ: There is no way it would be pricey! The laws of supply and demand would deem that something in such great supply, absent a concomitant high demand, would be rather low in price.
IF: i think you might be overestimating these guys just a little.
PQ: I hardly think it is overestimating them to believe they follow the simple laws of praxeology.
PQ: Shall we wager on this, then?
PQ: Boondollars, likely, given the hoard of gold and other currency in my mansion's basement seems like it is largely useless here.
IF: haha, yes.
IF: and then when you lose you can just sell that hoard of gold to make it all back.
PQ: Which would actually not amount to very much on my own land, given the abundance of gold to the point it is used as a building material leads to a LOWER PRICE.
PQ: So, it is YOU who shall be losing, trust me. I am an economist.
PQ: How much shall we bet, then?
IF: how about five boonbucks?
PQ: Five million boondollars, yes? Quite the sum. I accept.
PQ: You win if you find some hawker selling sand at obtuse prices and has customers.
PQ: That last bit is important, as any two-bit snakeoil salesman could TRY to sell sand at your land for high prices.
PQ: I win if, within...shall we say two weeks' time, you have not found such a merchant?
IF: what if i can sell the sand?
IF: but you're on either way. :P
PQ: Well, I do not know. You are the hero within your land after all, so you would likely be more trusted as a salesman, and thus could easily fool consorts into thinking the sand has some special benefit due to its relation to you.
PQ: I suppose an acceptable compromise is asking a consort to sell his sand at a high price, so long as the customers do not know you are involved.

IF: K thx 4 the free boonbucks
PQ: Likewise, my friend. Likewise.
IF: hehehehe-SHIT

===>



IF: BRB FISH

--inaneFixation [IF] is now an idle chum! --

PQ: Oh, my. Good luck!

===>



===>



===>



>Serris: Use Hyperbeam



===>



===>

[Ripcord]

>ZL: Ride.



>NO.



>HELL NO.



>HELL



>FUCKING



>OW.



===>




-- inaneFixation [IF] started pestering guardianGrognard [GG] --

IF: serris just kicked my ass.


===>



IF: i think that might be all there is to say on the matter.

SHOW PESTERLOG

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GG: Wait...Serris?
GG: Are we talkin' about a giant snake-fish thing?
IF: yeah the big purple one that shoots lightning from his face.
IF: he popped right the fuck out of nowhere and started wrecking everything. :/
GG: *sigh*
GG: I honestly don't fuckin' know if I should be surprised or not that he's in your session.
GG: Somethin' must've pissed it off good. You say it just showed up and took your ass out to a nice seafood dinner with a side of pain? Ya didn't provoke it at all?
IF: well it might've been pissy because of the giant piece of debris lodged in it's head
IF: that seems pretty reasonable to me so let's go with it.
GG: Seems 'bout right. At least th'Serris *I* knew was kind of a lazy-ass fish thing until you got it mad.
GG: Which Taylor inevitably did, because he was a dumbass.
GG: Miss him, though...
GG: Anyway, yeah, prob'bly should either run like hell or try to get the debris out.
GG: Actually, first option is probably bad considering that thing's deceptively fast, if I remember correctly. Kept up with Taylor, and that kid was like a rat on PCP.
GG: Lemme know if y'need any help, and I'll be there two seconds ago.
IF: hah
IF: nope i'm fine. or as close as i'm going to get until i can limp home. :/
IF: he already flew off though.
GG: Guess you're safe for now. Sure y'don't need my help with anything? I could get you a healing item or somethin' if you don't have one.
IF: i have one
IF: somewhere
IF: just
IF: i
IF: jesus fuck why did i ever get this modus.
IF: fuck this i need pockets is what i need. :I

GG: I could give you a spare wallet modus off one of my dead alternates.
GG: I'd have to find a safe place t'unload its contents because I make the most obsessive of packrats cry tears of blood as they gaze upon the clusterfuck that is my modus.
GG: Anyway, I'm gonna show up right....now.

True to his word, at that very moment Guardian appeared in front of Zach with a flash of red light, two shields hovering to his right and left. In his hand he held the most appetizing-looking piece of bread that Zach had ever laid eyes on, and knelt down beside the fallen Knight to offer it.


SHOW DIALOGLOG

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ZACH: did you bring the pockets?
GUARDIAN: No, but I brought one of th'wallet modi. Better than pockets.
GUARDIAN: Discarded its contents out in th'Furthest Ring. Can't help but think the horrorterrors might get a tad pissy about that, but I never liked 'em anyways.
ZACH: because we totally need more pissed off tentacle gods right now. :/
ZACH: but thanks.
GUARDIAN: Yeah, mighta been kinda stupid, but I actually already did it, so I had to do it.
GUARDIAN: Weird time shit. Watch it be crucial for somethin' later on. That's usually how this works.
ZACH: didn't you mention enormous bombs?
ZACH: i already have a bad feeling about this. you did make sure they weren't in the way of like
ZACH: our orbit or whatever these sessions do, right? :P
GUARDIAN: They don't really orbit, just kinda...sit there. But honestly, with how fucked up time and space is out there, that shit could end up back here or in another session or just stayin' how it is.
GUARDIAN: Hands were kinda tied with the weird time shit, though.
ZACH: baaad feeling.
ZACH: anyway.
ZACH: i think i should try getting home now. i have a lot to make before tomorrow and i don't think i can keep adventuring for much longer. :/
GUARDIAN: Stuff to make? For what?
ZACH: weapons
ZACH: things that go zap or boom.
ZACH: or both.
GUARDIAN: I'd just use alchemy for stuff like that, but whatever floats your Titanic, Kid.
ZACH: (i would laugh if that wasn't so accurate)
ZACH: screw alchemy though. at least this way i know what's going to come out.
GUARDIAN: True enough. Pity ya ain't Time and with all the time in th'world to mess with experiments like that.
GUARDIAN: Then again, y'might end up taking that to unhealthy limits if you did.
ZACH: man i already do that. :P
ZACH: i'll pass out sometimes and then start a project on derse and before you know it my microwave's on fire and the queen has a supergauntlet.
GUARDIAN: Heh. Well, try to take care of yourself anyway, Kid. You lot are the last chance to succeed where I failed. Human race is dependin' on you.
GUARDIAN: But no pressure.
ZACH: oh yeah.
ZACH: the gods are mad at us, we've all nearly died today, two of us did die, there's a giant laser fish flying around, the bad guys have even more superpowers than usual and one of them is space, evil magic trees (?) and we're standing on what is probably going to become a giant sinkhole in a few hours
ZACH: but no pressure.
GUARDIAN: No pressure at all.
GUARDIAN: Heh. Paradox space has a queer sense of fate, y'know, and the hotter the fire the stronger the iron.
GUARDIAN: Somethin' tells me you kids are going to either fuck up horribly or become the greatest heroes (or villains) paradox space has ever seen.
GUARDIAN: 'n I'm just here to try and make sure it's the latter.
GUARDIAN: Heroes, preferably.
ZACH: hah
ZACH: "PQ: Surrender your nuclear weapons please! I do not want to have to make my friend here hurt you."
ZACH: "UB: PAGE SMASH! PAGE STRONGEST THERE IS!!"
GUARIDIAN: AHAHAHAHA!
GUARDIAN: Forgot to throw in the "maybe"s 'n "possibly"s in there, though.
ZACH: "UB: MAYBE BREAK ONLY ONE LEG IF YOU LUCKY POSSIBLY"
GUARDIAN: Seems legit. I can't tell the goddamn difference! You might want to look into a career in ventriloquism or somethin' when you get to your new universe.
ZACH: haha yes.
ZACH: first i need a dummy. is there one in your wallet?
GUARDIAN: I had a lotta jobs, but ventriloquism wasn't one of 'em.
GUARDIAN: Can't ya just use Peter?
IF: pf
IF: no i don't think so
IF: dummies are mute and weird looking and peter is only one of those.
IF: (it's not mute.)
GUARDIAN: Sure as shit ain't mute.
GUARDIAN: Anyway, Kid, I think I need to get goin'. Still tryin' to figure out what those lights in the sky are. Haven't had too much luck.
GUARDIAN: Lemme know if you need any help or any questions answered.
ZACH: just one
ZACH: is my sister home or is it safe to go back?
GUARDIAN: "or"?
GUARDIAN: I took her to your home, though. We actually saw you 'n that girl make that fucking stupid rocket bathtub.
GUARDIAN: I believe I described the flame decals to her as "the shortbus icing on the triple-layer cake of retarded".
GUARDIAN: Dunno where she is now, though.
ZACH: suffice it to say that i will never hear the end of something.
ZACH: like, ever.
ZACH: and i don't want to hear the beginning for a while. :I
ZACH: so can you like
ZACH: timeaport me there or whatever?
GUARDIAN: If you're lookin' to instantaneously be there, you're wanting space.
GUARDIAN: All I could do is take you back in time to this moment after you arrived. Not sure what the point of that'd be.
ZACH: flying machine, then?
GUARDIAN: Hmm... Well, I got somethin'.
GUARDIAN: Used to belong to an old friend.
GUARDIAN: Y'can borrow it for the rest of the session so long as you return it whenever you're done with it.
GUARDIAN: Hope you know how to surf.

===>



SHOW PESTERLOG

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ZACH: oh what the hell??
ZACH: i designed this thing!
ZACH: or uh
ZACH: something just like it i guess.
GUARDIAN: Huh. My friend bought it from someone, I think.
GUARDIAN: I honestly don't know if there would be a pre-scratch version of you, though.
GUARDIAN: Your session defies all logic anyway, six players replacing four. For all I fuckin' know you're going to make this thing and it'll somehow go back to the guy who my friend bought it from.
ZACH: did your friend work at a post office?
GUARDIAN: Yeah. Y'might've met the version of him here. Name's Taylor.
ZACH: i never met him, he just commissioned me through my sister. :/
ZACH: i was going to start it after finishing lorelei's drill and then i'd have enough money when i was done to finish my thing.
ZACH: buuut now that's not going to happen.
GUARDIAN: Sburb's like that. Cuts all your dreams short.
GUARDIAN: Unless you were like me, and didn't have 'em anymore. But you don't need to hear an old codger's reminiscing.
ZACH: i mean i'm still going to finish the thing, but there's basically no reason to anymore.
ZACH: none of our houses are connected to any power grid anymore anyway so it'd be completely redundant
ZACH: i guess i could use it to power things away from the houses but alchemy probably makes that moot too
ZACH: so it's basically a phone charger, which is stupid
ZACH: i think maybe-
GUARDIAN: Jesus, Kid, take a breath!
ZACH: huh?
ZACH: oh shit sorry.
ZACH: distracted. :/
ZACH: anyway. rocketboard.
ZACH: finally it's something i know how to fly.
GUARDIAN: Good to hear. And I don't mind the rambling.
GUARDIAN: 'Round a millenium of parenting will give even the most short-tempered asshole the patience of god.
GUARDIAN: Y'good to go, though?
ZACH: pretty much
ZACH: wait
ZACH: yep see this right here? LBRD?
ZACH: this is definitely mine. :P
ZACH: designways.
ZACH: still your board.
ZACH: yeah.
ZACH: time to go.
GUARDIAN: The LBRD? I swear I've seen that before, but I can't remember where...
GUARDIAN: Guh. Get as old as I am and your memories start blurring together a bit.
GUARDIAN: Whatever. Good luck, Kid.
ZACH: thanks. later.

>Zach: End Arc



You don't know what means. Even if you had an 'arc', which would be silly, you don't think it would be over yet. As far as you're concerned, you've just left the starting gate. And after a quick break to get your bearings straight and finish an old project, you don't plan on slowing down any time soon. No, it's not over. Far from it.

You think you're just getting started.













































===>




===>



===>



"Hold still, will you?"

===>



"You and me..."

===>



"Are going to make a hell of a mess."









"nak."

[Zuki]

Gita was home, and, as might be expected, in a sulky sort of mood. Just....just...fuck all this shit. Zach, and the trolls, and her weird planet full of cats and ash, and starry terror-eyes, and...just screw this.

Hadn't she helped to program this game? She was a goddamn developer, for Skaia's sake! Type /credits into the Server Player command line, and her name was right there. Gita Naresh.

And yet, in the grander scheme of things, what had that meant? Jack. All

For as much as she knew about the mechanicisms of the Sburb application, for as long as she'd been awake on Derse (and for all that those two things had to two with each-other), she'd been just as blind-sided as the other players in the face of meteors, sprites, baffling coming-of-age quests, and other such interpersonal shenanigans.

Fortunately, there was someone else who understood what a collossal dick Paradox Space could be at times.

--- jeremiadMalcophony [JM] began pestering spiraMirabilis [SM] ---

JM: hey
JM: so this is the part of our day
JM: where we talk about how wonderful things are
JM: and how terribly unfortunate it is
JM: to be people that aren't us.
SM: You'd think that, and under a vast array of normal circumstances you'd be right. Today's about as far from normal as possible, though -- and coming from me, that's really saying something -- so the list of people I'd rather be right now is getting pretty long.
SM: But it'd be rude of me to whine without at least offering a proper greeting. How goes your second-going-on-third day in this fresh and fascinating hell we've been dropped in, Gita?
JM: Well, I'm going to have to reset my winning streak under "Days Since Last Electrocuted by Robot Minder"
SM: Right, robot sprite. Almost forgot about that in all this. You know, when you first told me that, I thought it was perhaps the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard.
SM: Now? Now it seems downright normal. I'm really not sure what that says about me, or this situation.
SM: I probably don't want to know.
JM: Look, I've been dreaming of this sort of shit most of my life, and it's still weird and ridiculous.
SM: Weird as it may be, I sort of envy that, in a way. I don't think I've ever dreamed of
SM: well
SM: anything.
SM: Ever.
JM: This is the part where I'd say, "Huh, you sure you're just not remembering them?" natural part of REM sleep blah blah blah
JM: 'cept that we've done that before so MOVING ON.
JM: It turns out being a purple moon princess with sky gods in your head doesn't actually prepare you for real life very well.
JM: or even for becoming that crazy cat lady who has to keep an eye on stab-happy green demons with claws for fingers
SM: I'd say I resent that remark, but even I can only carry a dumb joke so far. So, consort troubles?
SM: Mine are mostly just excruciatingly stupid, obsessed with waffles, gullible beyond all mortal comprehension, and utterly incapable of getting something so simple as their hero's gender correct.
JM: Eh. Well, they might like me at least a little better than they like, say, Zach, at least. They think you're a man?
SM: They think... well, they think a lot of dumb stuff. Obviously none of them are looking at me and saying "that's a dude", because then I'd have to take offense, and I'd really like to limit today's stabbings to imps.
SM: But there was this one going on about "the one they're expecting", to bring a change to the world, and about some Destroyer, and calling that one "he", and just calling me Harbinger. Not really sure what's up with all that business just yet. Crazy goddamn lizard cultists is what's up, if you ask me.
JM: Hnf. Speaking of gender confusion...
JM: I'm gay, right?
SM: I dunno, do you still have the inexplicable hots for my mom?
[color=#235930]JM: Nothing 'inexplicable' about it. But, anyways.
JM: This is, and has been, a thing. A thing I was pretty damn sure about.
JM: ...so why the fuck does Zach give me a boner.
JM: it is the most inexplicable thing.
JM: Makes him no less aggravating, to boot.
SM: Nothing 'inexplicable' about--
SM: Okay I couldn't even manage that with a straight face. Straight-up fucking baffling is what it is.
SM: ...*sigh*.
SM: Sorry, I'm just not into it today. I can't properly mock your misfortune right now, however desperately I may want to. So I guess it's time for a rare bout of Dahlia sincerity.
SM: Look, I don't pretend to understand human attraction on any level whatsoever. The sole extent of my interactions with other people have been the Professor, her tutors, the legions of hapless morons I mercilessly troll, and the few friends I keep at arms' length. At any given point in time I can barely resist punching myself in the face, I'm sure as hell not giving someone else a better opportunity.
SM: But from what I've seen, I think people don't really get a say in who or what they're attracted to. They just get to decide what they do about it. And it's entirely possible that your brain's seeing things about him that you're not letting yourself see, for whatever reason, labels or no. Not that he's not also a colossal dork.
SM: But I guess he's got a decent personality, and he's probably not bad looking.
SM: I mean, he's certainly no Dahlia, but who is?
JM: Yeah, but it's Lorelei I'm hung up on.
JM: One of these people makes me happy and keeps me sane; the other pisses me off.
JM: s'pose that's the 'what you do about it' angle.
SM: Afraid I probably won't be much help in that department. It's times like this I'm glad I find humanity so fundamentally loathsome, so I don't have to worry about things like that. But if you really want the advice of the resident pretty hate machine, cold harsh reality included, here's how I'm seeing it.
SM: Lorelei? Way not interested. It's not your fault, she's just religious. And old-fashioned. And I think she's got a thing for that Peter kid. Short version is, look but don't touch. You try to horn in on that and you'll just have both of them mad at you, and that does nobody any good, least of all you.
SM: Zach? Fuck if I know, really. I have dedicated at least two years of my life to trolling him within an inch of his miserable cortex, and then he shows up at my place earlier today like it was nothing -- like he doesn't even remember, being all friendly and personable. It's like he's trying to be a decent fucking human being or something, and it is outright baffling. Anyone who does that is either being completely disingenuous, or completely honest, and honestly I don't think he's devious enough for the former. Sad truth there? Means he's probably a good guy -- a good person. A lot more in common with Lorelei than with me.
SM: And you? I'm not gonna tell you what you are, because that's none of my business. But I do know there's probably some dumb ancient proverb about not seeing something that's right in front of you because you're too busy staring at something distant.
SM: I'm not saying "you kiss that boy this instant" or anything, because that's awful advice even from me, and furthermore I'm pretty sure that's not a mental image any of us wants right now, least of all me. I'm just saying a whole lot just changed in everyone's life right now, and maybe we should all just step back a little, and keep open minds.
SM: But don't wait too long or like... I dunno... Page is gonna snatch him up or something.
SM: (That was a joke.)
JM: Hnaaagghfl. I'll figure it out. One way or another.
JM: Can't keep sitting on this forever, I'm crazy enough as it is.
SM: Could be worse. You could be an alien science baby.
JM: Could I now?
SM: Well, no, probably not. I suspect it's a unique condition, unless you also recently discovered you spent the first three years of your life as a science experiment.
JM: Shit. As if you weren't fucked up enough.
SM: Ha, you're telling me. Or I guess I'm telling you.
SM: I already went on and on about this to Lorelei, so stop me if it gets whiny, but I figure you deserve to know now that I'm adequately cooled off about the whole thing.
SM: Long story short, I came to Earth on a meteor from who-knows-where, crash-landed on an island in the middle of nowhere. The Professor and her team of socially dysfunctional rock stars (ha ha, astrogeology joke, get it?) were studying something on that island which, turns out, was the first stuttering step on the long hard road to Sburb. Good for them.
SM: From what I can gather, at first they were afraid I might have some sort of space virus, so they stuck me in a sealed, sterile environment to study, and called me Subject Delta. And eventually they figured I was safe but I didn't have resistance to Earth viruses, so they kept me in there while they brought in a doctor to grow some synthetic antibodies, which is apparently a time-consuming process -- I wouldn't know, I don't watch shitty medical dramas (much). And then eventually the Professor took me home, named me for a flower whose sole distinguishing characteristic is its fucked-up Lego genetics, and became the terrible parent you've heard so much about.
SM: So, yeah. Alien science baby.
JM: Alien science baby. Looks pretty human, though.
JM: Can it learn to love?
JM: Or will it instead take the worst parts of humanity for its own?
JM: Only time will tell.
JM: Is it better if I am flippant or comforting here Ash I need a hint. I'm not *that* much better at social lives than you.
SM: Honestly? Whatever you're more comfortable with. I've already flipped my proverbial shit over this whole thing, so now I'm sort of at the morose, darkly comic acceptance phase.
SM: I mean how the heck do you even react to a situation like this? I'm either Superman or alien conquerer, and being as the only thing I've conquered lately is the sparing intellects of a planet full of mentally deficient lizards, I think that means I'm at least one of the good guys.
SM: Sort of lacking in flight and eye-lasers though. Especially the eye-lasers.
JM: Alien conqueror?
JM: THE METEORS ARE YOUR FAULT
JM: More seriously, who needs eye-lasers when you have knives.
JM: I think Lorelei dibs'd flight, anyhow.
JM: Bleh, I'm babbling.
SM: Not entirely unwelcome. Refreshing, even. I vented to Lorelei earlier and she was all perfect Miss Hero Messiah, and yeah it was cathartic but...
SM: Man, I just can't handle being pitied. I can hardly stand even the extremely minimal amount of "oh poor me" I've been pulling lately myself; hearing it from someone else is about a million times worse. Y'know, within a certain margin of error.
SM: Sort of rough, though, running facefirst into literally all the things I never actually was prepared for despite spending the vast majority of my life in the Professor's demented impromptu training courses. How are you holding up, as far as that goes?
JM: Did you know that ostensibly programming the interface that took us here gives you no, if any, context or preparation for what actually happens?
JM: Well I can tell you an awful lot about how the encryption hash for captcha codes work.
JM: Or how I can use a computer interfact to smash a toilet into an ogre's face.
JM: I'm somewhat more at a loss for magical ressurections, cute animals, and whatever the hell a 'Dame of Heart' is supposed to be doing.
SM: Hanging out with shady mobster sorts and/or hard-boiled detectives?
SM: All joking aside (shock and awe), I'm thinking there's a substantial possibility the titles are bullshit. I'm the Bard of Space, and I don't foresee myself singing for entertainment or storytelling purposes anytime soon, and by soon I mean ever. Or having too many skill points and no useful talents, depending on whose definition of bard we're going with.
SM: Wait no that second one sounds exactly like me. Never mind, I take back all the snarky things I said and will now commence being completely credulous and having total faith in this thing that destroyed our planet.
JM: Our planet, and the only hope we'll ever get more human interaction beyond the chucklefucks we're stuck with. Or we could just continue to skim through the dead internet, but noone will ever talk back.
JM: Or, in theory, playing the game will answer our questions. I mean, what else is there to do?
SM: Christmas parties, apparently.
JM: oh god, christmas parties.
JM: Does it seem bizarre to you? Like we're desperately reaching out for something mundane that can't possibly be so?
SM: I dunno about you, but I don't think I've ever even seen a "mundane" Christmas in order to know what one might look like. Apparently people actually bring gifts for each other. Never mind the space baby business, I don't even have any experience with it as a human.
JM: It's probably normal for Lorelei. It's...I've never been to a Christmas party that wasn't kind of a sad and silly pathetic flop, and in general, lately, I've never been to a party, period.
JM: ...what the hell are we supposed to gift these people with. I feel like I barely know most of them.
SM: You and me both. I mean, I knew you, and Lorelei, and I sort of knew Zach.
SM: But I would inevitably suck at gift-giving even with full knowledge of everyone's personalities, and I don't have anywhere near that. Best idea I've got so far is to get everyone the most trollish thing I can think of -- surprise surprise, I know.
JM: Empty boxes. Exquisitely wrapped.
JM: Put another box in the box.
JM: Third box in the box.
JM: A shiny new penny or an orange or a lump of coal in the last one, or something.
SM: I'd like to think, however bad I am at gifts, that I'm at least a little bit better than that.
SM: Gonna hafta remember the box-in-box thing though. Never let a good opportunity for messing with people pass me by.
SM: I'll figure something out, I guess. Probably ought to get on that sometime soon, I don't really want to be up all night coming up with gifts for people when I'm just doing it to mess with them anyway.
JM: You'd think the magic of punchcard alchemy would make this easier.
JM: I guess I've got a few ideas, though.
SM: One step better than me. Oh well, I'll figure it out. How hard could it be?
SM: (Spoilers: pretty fucking hard.)
SM: Which means I should probably stop talking to you and actually get to it, despite vastly preferring the talk to the work.
SM: (Man I would be such a shitty alien conqueror, with a work ethic like that. I really hope they weren't depending on me to subjugate any planets or anything.)
JM: At this point you'd be conquering planets of little dopey animals or even tinier planets of black-and-white dopey carapaces. Beat Jack Noir in a knife fight and the Medium is yours, really.
JM: Suppose I'd better fuss around and do the same.
SM: Jack Noir? Knife fights? Well, at least now I've got a few things on my to-do list that I'm actually looking forward to.
SM: ...Man. All this crazy stuff, and who woulda thought Christmas gifts would be the most baffling part?
SM: Anyway, I'll let you get to that, and likewise myself, before I fall over. Haven't slept since my birthday.
JM: Shit, I haven't had a normal nap in...right I don't have normal naps any more.
JM: Well, I'll have a freaky-and-stupid nap first, and see if that's worth any insight on 'What The Hell Do I Give Peter' or 'Why Doesn't My Life Make Sense'
JM: See you at the party, Asher.


Fortunately, there was still one place in the Incipisphere, perhaps, that made sense.

~

Gita awoke on Derse, in a familiar bed, in a familiar pair of comfy purple pyjamas. As easily as a hundred times before, she vaulted the windowsill, and flew down, looking for a familiar sword-wielding carapace.

>BP: Arrest Mutineer



With nobody around to guard him, the prince is easy enough to get to. You hope the poor idiot is ready to do time...

===>

((ZACH IS UNDER HOUSE ARREST))

IN HIS TOWER.

Because all you can do right now is put him under house arrest.

===>



Seriously you aren't sure why everyone was so riled up earlier.

She landed next to him. "Heya, Baldy."

===>

((LOL HAI GITA))

And they're ba-
Oh.

"Oh, hey. Startled me, I thought you were his sister for a minute. Is his whole family that tenacious?"

"I've only met her, and she's plenty batshit enough, you ask me."

"She was bad enough, then her boyfriend showed up and- he's not still here, is he?"

"The tightass with the gear on his shirt? Don't think so, no."

"Alright, good. Anyway. What's up? Please tell me you're not here to 'break him out'."

She stared at BP, incredulous.

"What? No! Hell no! Do you have any idea what I had to do to get away from that idiot?"

She leans over the bodyguard's shoulder, hovering to gain the extra altitude to do so. "He gonna be okay?"

The dersite took another look at the unconscious boy and shrugged.

"No idea about either of those. Worried?"

She touched her feet to the ground again, and shrugged. "Eh. Not really." Sure whatever Gita, you just -asked- after him.

If I drew him with a mouth, he would be smirking. "Sure you're not. Well, he got knocked out looking at those 'stars' or whatever you guys call them. The little white things."

"Lights in the sky are stars, yes. Except that those aren't stars, remember? They're eyes Gita risked a careful glance upwards, and shivvered. As if her little problem wasn't bad enough during normal dreams...

The bodyguard stepped between Gita and the window to get a better look at the sky. "...No, I don't remember. I haven't gotten a good look since the telescope... blew up."

Gita sighs, relieved to have her line of sight broken. She stares at the opposite wall. "One of the monsters that swims out there in the dark is angry. It's coming closer. Those are eyes."

"Wait, what?" He stuck his head out of the window, craning his neck for a better look at the monstrous creature looming over them. "Oh, man. That's..." The dersite retreated back into the tower, seemingly unaffected. "...not good. Are you okay? I know they've been giving you trouble for a while...

"It's not really a problem unless it's an eclipse, you know. I'll be fine, Baldy." But she was still studiously avoiding eye contact with the window.

"If you say so. I'd try staying indoors if I were you, though. Look what happened to him." As if on cue, Zach's dreamself stretched out as if he was waking up, and promptly fell face first onto the floor at Gita's feet.

Gita nudged Zach with a foot. Best to keep the drool away from the lil' purple slippers.

"...To answer your question, I think he'll be fine."

"Yeah, yeah. He'll live to derp another day."

"snork"

"It isn't fair is it? Lorelei and the others get happy fluffy prophet-clouds. We, on the other hand, get a bureaucracy full of stab-happy jazz musicians and a god in the sky that skull-fucks you."

"I like jazz..."

"No jazz is great. But it makes for bad paper-pushers. Do you really think Jack is supposed to be in charge of anything?"

"I guess not?"

"Exactly. He is is Stabmaster of Derse, Archagent Jack Noir." Gita grimaces and bares her teeth in a terrible imitation of the infamous dersite's scowl.

The bodyguard laughed. While he didn't mind most of Derse's government, he had to agree that whoever had put Jack Noir in charge of, well, anything must have been either really bored or really crazy. Probably both. "Okay, yes. He's a pain, but aside from that and them..." He gestured out the window. "...it's not too bad."

This time, she didn't flinch from the sights of purple spikes and spires just outside. Derse. Her second home. "Yeah, it isn't."

"Also, I've suddenly gotten way, way, off topic. Probably because I'm stalling." She turned to face the carapace. "Baldy, can you do something for me?"

"'Course. What is it?"

"Catch me when I fall."

Gita leapt for the window, pushed back the shutters as she flew out, and ascended, staring directly into the starry-eyed blackness of the sky above Derse.

"Wh-" He dashed after her, stopping himself on the edge of the windowsill before he fell from the tower. "This is a terrible idea!"

This is a terrible idea, Gita thought, and stared unflinching into the gleaming eyes of the monster.

[Naevius]

((Author's note: this, in addition to being story relevant and an end to Act 2/setup of the Intermission, is also a test for a new Lorelei text color that's less eye-blinding. Tell me what you think.))

-- philosopherQueen [PQ] opened a memo on board TEAM KOUSEI. --

PQ: Good evening, everyone! I assume, given the manifold challenges this game seems to love to throw at us, you are likely feeling just as tired as I am.
PQ: Well, this impeccable noble lady has some good news for you! We are going to have a CHRISTMAS PARTY!
PQ: That is, I hope we are. I am going to throw one. You are free to simply tell me to take a long walk off a short pier. The joke will be on you since I can fly.
PQ: Anyway, I figure it would be a great time to get together, have fun, celebrate something POSITIVE amidst all this tragedy, and further the relations of those of us who do not know each other!
PQ: We are likely going to bring gifts, so feel free to alchemize something for each person. You need not worry too much on getting the right gifts for each member, as the goal here is to just have fun!
PQ: Mistletoe is optional, but I know a few of you who might decide to sneak some in.
PQ: I am looking right at you, Dahlia.
PQ: I will be hosting and providing all food, you need not make any yourself unless you wish to.
PQ: Now, for time! As you may remember, my previous attempt at a group breakfast ended in disaster in part due to the sleepiness of many involved. Such a thing I shall not stand to occur twice!
PQ: Therefore, we are having this in the evening, so you lazy Yankees can get your beauty sleep. The time shall be tomorrow at 6:00 pm UCT-6 (Central time for Americans, I do believe).
PQ: For those of us from civilized hemisphere of our old world, check this for how it stacks up against your superior time zone: http://www.worldtimezone.com/
PQ: If anyone has any questions or wishes to arrange quick transport to my land, feel free to contact me!
PQ: Merry Christmas!

END OF ACT 2

[Naevius]

INTERMISSION

The snow lightly falling outside the Von Hayek mansion had never seemed more appropriate, and the mansion itself never more brimming with festive decoration and cheer. What had been in Christmases past--if a cheerful and welcome one--had now taken on the flavor of respite. Decorating the abode's grandiose halls and sweeping rooms had become a sacralization and celebration of the normal in the sea of chaos that had surrounded their past few days. Lights hung from every buttress, every arch over a doorway, every conceivable place one could put them as if a particularly festive spider had had its way with the old mansion. The smell of just about every kind of Christmas food that could be cooked wafted through the air, creating a buffet of smells to match the literal buffet awaiting the guests. Yet even when it seemed that they had decorated as much as possible, one of the servants or another would get an idea and off they would go again.

Despite the festivities being in part an escape from the sudden change in their environment, the servants HAD come very quickly to take advantage of the alchemizer and other such tools for their projects. One involved the creation of a life-size Santa in his sleigh with all the reindeer including Rudolph, which was then hung from the foyer's high ceiling by strong, difficult to see wire that was also made via alchemy. Elsewhere a large, almost man-size snowflake was hung on the wall, which constantly played low-level piano christmas music (so as to be festive but not distracting). Frieda, one of the maids, had largely taken over leadership for such alchemy projects, and the grand Christmas tree that stood tall in the main hall was largely her own project. Using the enlarger addition to the alchemizer, she had crafted something truly awe-striking, towering to just below the mansion's highest ceiling. Lorelei's ability to fly, as it had been with other projects like the santa one, had come in handy for decorating the tree with the manifold baubles and lights that covered it. But a scant few minutes before she had just put the angel on the top of the tree.

Now she sat in one of the large lounge chairs in the foyer, next to Florian (who was busy thumbing through a hefty tome of Christmas stories to find the perfect one to tell), idly tossing the crucifix that hung around her neck this way and that in her hands. The guests would soon be arriving...

[Ripcord]

===>




===>




===>




===>




>Arrive.



"My ears are still ringing you goddamn lunatic."

[Naevius]

At the sound of the stately front doors swinging wide open (and the loud complaint by one instantly recognized as Zach Lombardi), Lorelei quickly went to stuff the crucifix down her shirt only to realize that, for once, she was wearing something cut too low to allow that sort of thing. Oh, well... It is not like it really matters anyway. Somber religious contemplation: off. Perfect ladylike host mode: on!

True to her thoughts, Lorelei immediately sprung up from her seat and walked quickly towards her new guests, smiling brightly and holding out her arms in welcome. "Zach! Thank yo ufor coming." She gave her old friend a quick hug before turning towards his companion. "And you must be Zach's sister, yes? It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Lorelei Catarina Kurfurstin Von Hayek. Welcome to my home!"

[Ripcord]

Sis extended her hand in greeting as the two stepped into the enormous mansion. "That's me. I take it he's already told you the basics?"

Lorelei shook the offered hand, nodding. "Yes, indeed, along with some stories regarding your reactions to his shenanigans."

The older woman smirked and rolled her eyes. "Perfectly justified, I'd say. Where's everyone?"

"You are the first to arrive, actually! Fashionably early, I am sure."

Zach laughed. "How'd we beat Peter and Guardian?"

Lorelei shrugged. "I do not know!" She turned and began leading the way into the main hall, nevertheless making sure to keep her view (most of the time) on her guests as they followed. It's terribly unladylike not to look at someone as you talk to them, after all. "As for Guardian, I do not know if he shall in fact be coming--he did not répondez s'il vous plaît. And as for Peter, well, knowing him he shall either arrive randomly or has something planned," she remarked with a smile.

As if on cue, Zach's phone buzzed in his pocket.

SHOW PESTERLOG

show spoiler

hide spoiler

-- absoluteTranquility [AT] started pestering inaneFixation [IF] --

AT: Technically I don't show up for another two minutes so SHH
IF: what are you-

Zach saw something move in the corner of his eye. He looked into the small mirror glued to the inside of his shades and sure enough, there Peter was hiding behind a potted plant.

IF: oh.

"He's uh, on his way."

Lorelei's brow quirked in curiosity and a bit of confusion to boot. "If he was 'on his way', would he not be already here...?" She shook her head rapidly as if to shake loose the confusing thoughts that gripped her mind. "Nevermind. Bizarre temporal shenanigans, I am sure." Lorelei led the way into the spectacularly decorated main hall. The great Christmas tree towering over her from behind, she turned to her guests and once again held her arms out in a gesture of welcome. "So! Here we are. I must say, not to be arrogant about it, we have quite out-done ourselves this year! Even the most lavish Von Hayek Christmas celebration has not equaled this! Feel free to help yourself to anything the banquet table has to offer!"

Before Lorelei had even turned back towards the two, Sis was already at the table filling her assorted bowls and plates. Zach didn't seem too surprised at her behavior. "Don't mind her. Usually on Christmas we have, like, a pumpkin pie and some sandwiches and then we watch TV all day."

The host merely giggled in response. "'Tis no worry at all, that is what it is there for! And I did indeed make sure to stock the table with some vegetarian options for you, Zach, as promised."

"Hey, thanks! So do I put the presents under the tree or is it different in-" There was now a large, grey-wrapped box in the room that Zach was sure had not been there before. He had a decent idea of what was inside it, though. "Oh, god."

"No, it is the sa-..." Confused and a little bit worried, Lorelei turned in the direction Zach was facing, looking in vain for whatever it was her friend had noticed. "What is it? What is the matter?"

===>



"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

"AAAAAUUUUUGH!" Lorelei shot up into the air like a white rocket, recoiling so far in shock that she almost made it to the ceiling before stopping. A moment's worth of blinked eyes and a frozen stare was enough for Lorelei to grasp the situation. "Pfftheh...Heheheeheeheeheehahahahahaha! I knew it!" Far more delicately she floated back down to earth in front of Peter and gave him a hug. "I knew you had something planned! I just did not know what and that was my downfall! Ahahahahahahaha!"

As one Peter, conspicuously red in the face, hugged his friend, the second iteration of him from the other room walked over to retrieve a large sack from the box. As he dumped it's contents, five smaller but similarly wrapped boxes, onto the floor beside the tree, Zach laughed. "Okay I know there's more to this."

Both Peters responded at once. "Well do you want me to spoil it?

Lorelei relinquished her hug and stepped back, hands clasped behind her back and smirking. "Two Peters? I do not know if we have enough food for two Peters!" A joke and nothing more, of course, given the food on the table looked like it could feed a small army and Lorelei knew nothing about her crush's eating habits besides. "I suppose it would be best to simply leave the mystery unsolved for now."

One of them opened his mouth to comment about how 'only two is wishful thinking', but was interrupted by an alarm from his watch. "Woah, gotta' go!" He disappeared in a flash of red light, leaving a single Peter currently in the room. "Uh... Yeah I'll probably be doing that a lot."

"IIIII'm not sure I like where this is going."

"Shh."

[Naevius]

As if on cue to interrupt during a momentary lull in the conversation, the mansion's rather high-class doorbell (for even the doorbell carried aristocratic airs in this household) rang out to fill the void. Lorelei quickly excused herself from the conversation to make a brisk pace towards the front door once again.

What awaited her was a welcome, if rather strange, sight. Two figures stood--or rather, one stood and one floated--before the door. Page Caldwell, with her usual nervous-but-sincere smile, wore an outfit that Lorelei could only presume was made while visiting Dahlia. The glowing blue sprite to her left could be no one else but her father, clad in gear that would have made Dumbledore inquire as to who exactly was his masterful arcane tailor.

Lorelei smiled and, just as before, spread her arms wide in greetings. "Welcome, Page and Mr. Caldwell! You are right on time! Peter and Zach have already arrived."

"O-oh, good, I guess," Page remarked after receiving a hug from Lorelei. "I was afraid we were going to be late, I think."

"See?" Page's father remarked, chuckling. "I told you we'd be fine. No need to worry, Sweetheart." he paternally mussed up her hair, in much the same fashion as Dahlia had before which in turn reminded the young Caldwell of her father.

Lorelei chuckled, then turned and lead the way into the main hall. "As I was saying to Zach and his sister, I think this has been the most elaborate christmas celebration the Von Hayek mansion has ever thrown! The alchemy technology is likely partially to blame, of course."

"Man, if your rich girl friend finds it elaborate, I can't wait to see how we'll view it..." the mighty hobowizard quipped in a low tone to his daughter, receiving a small giggle in response.

Soon, as they drew into the main hall along with the other guests, his question was answered. The little homeless family from the back streets of Dublin could do nothing but gape, mouths wide open, at the magnificent splendor. Eyes darted this way and that at each amazing new sight, and Page could only mutter one thing:

"Whoa..."

[Zuki]

For those close enough to hear, the sound of a fist knocking on wood echoes through the foyer.

"I'm here?"

Not waiting for acknowledgement, Gita stepped over the threshold. Trying not to boggle at the elaborate decorations, she continued,

"Lor', I got your memo, I've got my sh- stuff, and--"

At the sound of another voice--one somewhat well known that instantly brought a smile to the young Von Hayek's face--she quickly excused herself from the Caldwells' gawking at the decorations to briskly trot back towards the stately front door. Her smile only grew wider when she saw her old friend, and quickly moved to embrace her. "Welcome, Gita, welcome! I am glad you came!" Instinctively she moved to kiss Gita's cheek, but stopped herself with her lips but an inch from her friend's face. "...Hah, caught myself that time!"

It is, to Gita's credit, a marginally less extreme reaction than the first time this happened. Marginally.

Don't blush don't blush don't aw shit I'm bright red

"...Don't stop yourself on my account." She managed, lamely.

"All right, if you insist!" Lorelei closed the gap, kissing Gita on the cheek, then let go of the hug and pulled back. "And that was your daily dose of European culture. Do you not feel so culturally sensitive now?"

...!

"Ah. Yea. Cultural sensitivity is go." the fuck does that even mean Struggling not to stand there like a light-headed derp, Gita cast about for a change of topic. "...like what you did with the place. Decorations-wise."

Of course, Gita's embarrassment was hard to miss, but once again Lorelei simply assumed it was due to a rather shy and easily embarrassed disposition combined with the kiss itself--far more likely, in her mind, than her old friend being deeply and truly in lesbians with her. She berated herself for a moment for taking what Gita said literally--wondering if instead it was a bit of american slang she missed--but ultimately decided that dwelling on it would only make things worse.

"Oh, thank you! I must say, I cannot take very much of the credit! My familly has seized upon this opportunity as a somewhat return to normalcy and have all thrown themselves into it with a vigor I have never seen. Just wait until you see the tree! 'Tis right this way, if you would follow me." With that, Lorelei turned and led the way towards the main room where the others were gathered.

Lorelei's relentless cheer and reassuring presence are, gradually, a welcome distraction. Christmas, however incongruous, is about the furthest one could possibly get from the visions and whispers that gripped Gita hours before.

"Woah. That is one...that is a hell of a tree." She shuffles tree-wards, and decaptchalogues a set of identical boxes. "It all goes here?" The entire time, Gita's looking around, eyes jumping from decoration to decoration, from person to person. It's not awe or wonder, like Page and her fatherly wizardsprite. More...uncertainty. Been a long time since Gita was at a party.

"Yes indeed, my friend. Now the last person we are waiting on is Miss Asher, who I do believe intends to arrive fashionably late anyway, if I know her. In fact, I would not put it past her at all to arrange some sort of way to ensure she is last to arrive.."

===>

A lone figure sat out in the cold and snow, some great distance from the welcoming hearth fires and cheer of the party. Yet, despite some part of him clamoring for the warmth and socialization involved, Guardian did not believe it was a place he belonged. He was not here to partake, but to observe, for a shadowy and enigmatic employer for shadowy and enigmatic reasons.

>Guardian: Contact Shadowy and Enigmatic Figure

-- guardianGrognard [GG] began pestering spiraMirabilis [SM] --

GG: Hey, Kid.
GG: Gita just arrived, so the rest of 'em are there.
GG: Guess it's time for you to make your ~~~~fantastic appearance~~~~
GG: ...
GG: How the fuck did I even pronounce those tildes anyway?

[Ripcord]

"So..."

"SHH."

And then someone knocked on the door.

"I'm here?"

===>



!!!

this is bad no time to think use your instincts

===>



instincts no


===>

-- absoluteTranquility [AT] began pestering inaneFixation [IF] --

AT: What are you doing in my precious box?
IF: please don't tell gita i'm in here i really don't think i want to talk to her right now
AT: If you don't now you'll kind of have to whenever Lor tells her you're here
IF: tell them i'm in the bathroom or something
IF: just
IF: look last time i saw her was kind of embarassing for both of us and now my sister is here to rub it in and i really don't want to deal with this in front of everyone.
AT: So you're hiding in a box until someone opens it?
AT: That doesn't sound very well thought out at all
AT: I thought you were supposed to be a genius or something. :P
IF: yeah yeah i've never been good at thinking things through. :/
IF: just i guess buy me some time to figure something out is what i'm saying?
AT: Time you say??
AT: Why yes I think I can do that
AT: I happen to be something of an expert in that particular field
AT: (ask anyone who isn't guardian)
AT: And I don't have to be anywhere for...
AT: about twelve minutes?
AT: So yes I think I can help you not get caught by the lady with the broadsword.
AT: So quick before they get in-

"Woah. That is one...that is a hell of a tree. It all goes here?"

IF:
AT: shit

[solariumWistful]

SM: Thanks, oldtimer. You're the best.
SM: And by best I of course mean a distant but appreciable second. Behind me, in case we're still taking notes.
SM: :D
GG: At least it's better than third place.
GG: Bronze is just "you tried your hardest but no one gives a fuck about you!"
SM: Harsh. Harsh, but true. Anyway, thanks, really. Wouldn't want anyone thinking I gave too many fucks, getting the wrong idea or anything. But I should probably haul my happy blue ass over there before they really start to miss me.
GG: Yeah, 'cause contacting me to absolutely make sure you're last there is totally not giving fucks.
SM: One last thing before I go, though.
GG: What?
SM: You haven't been skulking around my planet, covertly trolling me, have you?
GG: Nah, I've got better things to do. Your session is so ass-deep in anomalies I can barely keep up with them, much less devote brainspace to trolling some kid. Why do you ask?
SM: Just curious.

-- spiraMirabilis [SM] ceased pestering guardianGrognard [GG] --

===>

Aw man... it's this bright on the outside, I can hardly wait to see what's inside. Standing at the door to the Von Hayek mansion, Dahlia grumbled to herself, tugging at the black fur of her coat's collar. Who decided this was a good idea again? Oh well, at least I won't be cold this time.

Dahlia raised one hand and poked halfheartedly at the doorbell. It wasn't that she wasn't glad to be here -- not entirely, anyway. She just had a lot going on lately. But she promised herself she'd try to enjoy it... and besides, she grinned to herself, it's not like I didn't bring my own fun along. Another poke at the doorbell, and she waited, hands clasped behind her back, still grinning.

The doors swung open for the fourth time that evening, and just as before a smiling scion of the Von Hayek family awaited within the beckoning and warm confines of the mansion. "And here she is, fashionably late as expected! Welcome, Dahlia."

"Better watch it. You tell me I'm getting predictable and I'll show up early next time, and nobody wants that. Trust me." Dahlia chuckled, sliding past Lorelei in her fluttering black coat, more than a little thankful she managed to dodge the... physical greeting from last time.



Lorelei chuckled and led the way towards the main hall. "Oh, I do not know, it might not be so bad! Nice outfit, by the way."

"Thanks. Made it myself." Dahlia let that one hang a moment before snickering quietly. "Alchemy: father of stupid jokes everywhere. So I take it everyone's waiting in rapt anticipation of my fantastic appearance?" It was, as always, more than a little hard to tell what was serious and what was irony, with Dahlia. Sometimes they were even the same thing.

"But of course, Dahlia, we have all been on the edge of our seats! Poor Page fell off hers at least twice, and my behind hurts something fierce. Would it truly have killed you to arrive earlier?" Lorelei batted back, tone all humor and playfulness.

"Oh, it definitely would've. See," Dahlia began, gesticulating meaninglessly as they went, "us crazy alien science-babies are made with bombs in our heads, and if we ever show up early -- boom, there we go. Or if we piss the overlords off too much, which is why I make damn sure nobody ever takes me seriously." She shot a wry, sideways grin at Lorelei. While she wasn't much for hanging out with most people, this banter was something she actually missed from the one time Lorelei visited. At times like this, they felt a whole lot more like sisters than anything else -- assuming one could get past the fact that they were polar opposites otherwise.

"Why, that is positively unacceptable!" Lorelei exclaimed, filled with the fakest of all righteous indignations. "We must find a way to rid you of these evil overlords casting a shadow over your space baby life!" She punctuated this statement by pounding her fist into her open palm. "We shall overcome this evil with ~CHRISTMAS SPIRIT~! That is how it works, right? That is what all the cartoons said. Speaking of which..." On cue, she ushered Dahlia into the lavishly decorated main hall with a sweep of her arms. "Here we are!"

"Hoooly s--nowflakes."

"Yes, the snowflake is rather nice too. It plays music!" Lorelei commented, grinning widely at her friend's surprise.

Dahlia quickly bounced back to snarky jokes mode. "So, where's Santa, so I can sit on his lap and have my picture taken?" She grinned at Lorelei. "...Y'know, like when you're in the mall and..."

Lorelei chuckled. "You shall have to ask Peter about that, given he has the santa costume around here. Something tells me he would not be very quick to humor your request, alas." "Alas" nothing, you would probably feel a bit jealous and you know it, Von Hayek.

Dahlia's grin wilted. "You are really not getting this, and-- oh, just never mind." She sighed, shaking her head and chuckling to herself. "Besides, I'm pretty sure that lap's got your name on it. Like, all over it." She summoned up her most impish of smirks for that one.

In the game of words between Lorelei Von Hayek and Dahlia Asher, the score ticked up to 0-1, Asher. Lorelei's face exploded in scarlet, and her words only dug things deeper. "Whatwhat? No, that's absolutely absurd! Ahahaha, you're silly. So silly. Oh hey, look, there's Page! She hasn't noticed you've come in yet, I guess, too busy eating! Ahahahaha! Hey, Page, it's Dahlia!"

Page, sure enough, poked her head up from the banquet table, mouth still full of turkey. Caught off guard, she quickly chewed and swallowed, only to find that the she'd been more than a little too quick. Coughing and wheezing, she nevertheless managed to struggle out a "Hi, Dahlia!" while her father patted her helpfully on the back.

Dahlia smiled and waved to Page, up-and-down, as one might when waving off someone's concern -- or, in this case, overreaction. "Hey now, don't go dying on my account. I'll still be around once you've had a chance to eat." Part of her wanted to go over there and talk to Page, particularly the way she had left things last time they spoke, but... man, that's a lot of people. And her father, Dahlia figured. Instead she simply chuckled to herself and kept on walking, heading for the grand Christmas tree that was the focal point of the room. There she produced a light-blue sylladex card, and from it retrieved five darker-blue envelopes which she placed under the tree -- each containing, as she knew, yet another light-blue sylladex card with a present in it. Yeah, it really doesn't get much more meta than this. Satisfied with her arrangements, Dahlia made herself welcome to a comfortable-looking chair, a comfortable distance away from the dining table where the others had gathered.

If Mohammad will not go to the mountain... then the mountain must come to Mohammad.

[solariumWistful]

===>



===>



===>



AT: Smooth.

===>

"Cookie?"

Gita has sidled away from the main table, made a show of looking over the (admittedly rather elaborate) Yule tree, and offered a plate laden with baked goods to her friend. Not actually making eye contact, she goes on,

"The pfeffernusse is a centuries-old family secret, or something."

There have been more tepid introductory overtures in paradox space.

But not many.

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IF: aw fuck is she coming over here??
IF: she is isn't she???
AT: That she is.
AT: Just calm down and stop panicking, because giant boxes are suspicious enough when they're not gasping for air.
IF: I'M NOT PANICKING

Dahlia glanced up to the newcomer, and Creepy Santa followed suit -- which is to say, she subtly tilted the decidedly unsettling Christmas mug towards her guest. "It's a good thing you decided to clarify." She grinned wryly, assessing the situation as best she might in the half-second she had. A girl, not dressed in the same uniforms as the help. Either someone's sister, or Gita -- and if Dahlia had done her job right, all but Gita would have been adequately warned away by now. Hopefully. "Or I might have had to accuse you of coming up with cute nicknames."

Dahlia wagged a finger at Gita -- again shaking the Santa mug back and forth -- before finally taking her up on her offer. "Not bad, though." She added quickly: "The cookie, that is. The other... well, let's stick with 'Dahlia'."

"If I tried to give you a 'cute' nickname, Dahlia, it sure wouldn't be 'Cookie,'" Gita replied, as she leaned against her friend's chair, facing those gathered at the table. (Which meant she was no longer facing The Mug.) "You're obviously much more of a 'Peaches.'"

Lorelei looked amazing in that low knit top that showed her shoulders off, Gita thought. Gita also thought about how much she'd rather not be caught staring, and returned her mind to the snarky banterfriend beside her.

"Have you been lovingly harrassed and entreated to join the rest of our happy crew, yet?"

Dahlia actually chuckled at that, setting the mug down in her lap for a moment now that she was no longer in immediate danger of-- wait, no, there she goes talking about joining the rest of the crew. Defense mode activated, mug back up. Also that's some really tasty hot cocoa. An added bonus. "I contemplated taking Lorelei up on her offer. Then I realized I was an idiot and went back to not doing that." She grinned sharply, sarcastically. "This gives me a better vantage point anyway, so I can keep an eye out."

"Yeah?" Gita asked Dahlia, tone light. "What for?"

Dahlia stuck her arm out to the side, and raised it to place her hand just in front of Gita's face. With a quick flick of her wrist, akin to a stage magician's sleight of hand, she materialized a card from her sylladex and held it up for her friend to view. The icon depicted a fishing pole, with a large and obvious sprig of mistletoe in place of a hook. "Opportunities." Her grin as she tilted her head back to look up at Gita was positively devilish.

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IF: what?
IF: what's going on??
IF: what opportunities???
AT: Uh
AT: Fishing.
IF: BULLSHIT
IF: WHO ARE THE FISH
AT: Irrelevant.
AT: Probably.
IF: D:

A pause. Dahlia was running around a christmas party with mistletoe. A Christmas party...with Zach and Lorelei. Obviously, the flush on Gita's face indicates annoyance. Not anything else she might have briefly considered.

"...You're a terrible person, Dahlia Asher."

"And damn good at it." Dahlia began humming quietly, which eventually blossomed into full (though quiet -- and, really, oddly melodic) song. "You're a monster, Dahlia Asher~... your heart's an empty hole~..." She trailed off to quiet humming to finish the verse, and then nothing once again.

"Y'know, Gita. You're a lot less crazy in person than I thought you'd be."

It was as sincere as Dahlia ever got. And as complimentary.

"Hey. I've got a head full of yammering demons, but that won't make me crazy, yanno?"

Crazy. Hoo boy. That was a doozy of a word to be thinking about, considering the...events...prior to her arrival at Lorelei's Christmas party. But Dahlia hadn't meant to touch a never--well, okay. Any more than she always did. Truth be told, Dahlia's terminal irreverence was something Gita appreciated about her friend. Not treating the weirdness of her living situation like the end of the world had been part of that.

"Speaking of crazy demons...that mug."

"What?" Dahlia grinned the shit-eatingest grin, and wagged the half-empty mug back and forth, again facing it towards Gita. Her flawless mock-sincerity only made it more horrifying. "Y'got a problem with hot cocoa?"

===>



Those cold, dead, ceramic eyes. That goblin nose. Help me, the mug silently pleaded. End my pain.

Gita's shudder was exaggerated--but not completely faked. "Goddamn soulless, is what it is."

"Asher family tradition." Dahlia set the mug down on her lap again. "The Professor" (as there was no way in hell she was going to call her 'mom') "makes it her mission in life to collect the tackiest, most garishly tasteless holiday mugs possible, amongst the boundless masses of other junk she brings back as souvenirs. So we made them a family holiday tradition, instead of... y'know..." She paused, glancing down to the mug and turning it around in place so she could more clearly see its face. Bah, that's not so bad. A quiet sigh revealed perhaps a bit more of her true feelings than she'd have liked. "...actually celebrating a holiday like normal human families do."

Dahlia scanned the (perhaps overly) decorated room, and rolled her eyes.

"Because this is so clearly normal."

"I don't think 'normal' exists anymore. We're gonna have to make do with freaky from here on out."

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IF: amen to that
AT: Speak for yourself. :P

"That's okay." Dahlia smiled -- an actual, real smile. "I like weird."

[Ripcord]

>Peter: Talk to Mysterious Stranger



SHOW PESTERLOG

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IF: oh, come on.
IF: you can't possibly think anything is still normal.
AT: This is the new normal, get used to it. :V
AT: I like it better than the old normal, really.
AT: The old normal was boring as all fuck, but I get the sneaking suspicion that I'm the only one who even knew what 'normal' felt like?
IF: what's that supposed to mean?
AT: Well you five were...
AT: >SUPER MEGA ULTRA RICH
AT: >Homeless and living in a library
AT: >A mad scientist
AT: >A hacker with dark gods in her brain
AT: >Rased on an island smack in the middle of scenic fucking nowhere
AT: And...
AT: I was........
AT: A kid from Canada.
AT: With a weird eye and a shitty home.
IF: uh
IF: ...
IF: huh.

SHOW PESTERLOG

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AT: Believe me, you wouldn't miss it either.
AT: OH
AT: Your girlfriend left, she's over here talking to Lor now
AT: (i should probably listen to this this sounds really important)
IF: oh thank g-
IF: FUCK
IF: NO.
IF: NOT YOU TOO.
IF: IT'S NOT
IF: WE'RE
IF: NO.
AT: XD
AT: Yeah you don't have to worry about me I'm about to be replaced by another me anyway
AT: We-

===>



Hold that thought. Someone is pestering you.

It's you.

SHOW PESTERLOG

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-- absoluteTranquility [AT] began pestering absoluteTranquility [AT] --

AT: Actually there's been a bit of a change in plans...
AT: Long story.
AT: What??
AT: Yeah, someone's going to-
AT: Fuck hold on.
AT: There
AT: Someone's going to show up soon and kind of piss all over those sweet plots
AT: Someone you haven't seen in a while. (Since yesterday, even!)
AT: If you feel happy about it at all, I reccommend slamming your face into the wall so you feel less bad about it later.
AT: The fuck.
AT: Is this about polo douche?
AT: That would be Spoilers!
AT: But seriously yes.
AT: And he is indeed quite the massive douche.
AT: Anything else actually would be spoilers though so
AT: Bye!

-- absoluteTranquility [AT] ceased pestering absoluteTranquility [AT] --

AT: Son of a bitch.
IF: :I

[Zuki]

"Hey, Lor'," Gita piped up as she re-took her seat at the main table. "You'll be gratified to know that Scrooge Asher is doing just fine back there. Did I miss anything?"

Lorelei smiled as her friend sat down beside her. "Oh, nothing terribly special. Peter is talking to some ~mysterious stranger~ who I have a bit of a hunch on the identity of, let us say... Florian has just been telling some stories--none of the war ones, just old stories of friends and humorous situations. I am glad to hear Dahlia is doing well, though." She cast a glance back towards Dahlia, then back to Gita. "That mug is terribly unsettling, though, is it not?"

===>



oh god yes.

Not that Gita would let on about that, mind....

"Oh, I dunno. It's not that bad, is it? Tacky, sure, I'll give you."

"It was spawned from the very bowels of Satan and I will hear no more of it~" Lorelei said with a tone full of cheer and humor to contradict her dire words. "By the by, how are you feeling? I would hate to have you fall asleep straight into a bowl of cereal again!" She punctuated the remark by sticking her tongue out at Gita--unladylike at a dinner table, perhaps, but this was not meant to be a terribly formal event anyway.

At Lorelei's questioning, Gita put on a smile, doing her best not to look distressed in the least.

"Oh! Uh. I'm fine. No faceplants here." Oh god I really did plant my face in the cheerios, didn't I? Guh.

"I made sure to have a nap right before coming here, and everything."

Not for the first time, Gita wished Lorelei didn't make her so tongue-tied in person. She was perfectly capable of being eloquent. Or not mumbling.

Lorelei, of course, completely missed the true nature of Gita's embarrassment. With a dismissive wave of her hand she remarked, "Oh, do relax, Gita. I hardly mind that it happened, you need not worry. I am just glad you will not be getting that lovely face of yours covered in cereal again!"

This time, Gita's blush-hiding technique was to look down and very carefully examine the plate of cookies before her.

"C'mon. You're just saying that...

Quick quick quick change the subject...

"Oh! Oh. Your Land...are the quests and everything going well? I mean, Zach and I saw the pillar of light, and..."

Once again Lorelei found herself idly wondering just why Gita blushed so fiercely over what was, to her, naught but a simple comment--and once again, in ignorance, chalked it up to a simple easily-embarrassed temperament when dealing directly with others. It was quickly set aside, however, at the mention of her land. "Ah, yes! I do recall promising you I would tell you what happened when I returned to the caverns, yes? Well, that pillar of light--which I am still rather surprised you saw--is part of the story. The climax, if you will."

This, then, would have to do with Angels that haunted Lorelei's Land. And, just possibly, the angelic Lorelei that haunted Gita's mindscape? Either way, Gita listened with rapt attention. "Go on,"

Lorelei continued in her best storyteller tone, mimicking her family's own resident teller of tales great and small, the servant Florian. "The story starts upon my return to the haunted, darkness-filled caverns that had overcome me hours before. I stood before the gaping maw, trying my best to summon up my courage. Just for added moral support, I contacted my troll friend Khirun, and kept the conversation window open with her as I went into the cavern. This time, I went in with light already shining from my drill, and though the darkness dimmed it, it could not destroy it.

"The journey down alone was perilous, and more than once I almost gave into the despair that haunted the area. The whispers scraped against my mind and the darkness swarmed about me, filling my with thoughts of depression, fear, surrender--desperately seeking to quell the light I brought into its domain. Fortunately, Khirun's help was invaluable, as a sort of tether to the outside world and a mind not befuddled by the darkness. Yet, eventually, the darkness began to affect Khirun somehow through our chat. Then it became more difficult, as we each had to support each other in turn. Eventually, though, as we continued onward I smelled that..." Lorelei stumbled in her otherwise picture-perfect storytelling here, voice cracking just a bit as she continued: "...well, a familiar smell. It was the darkness impersonating the horrified, hanging corpse of Adelle once again, of couse."

Some part of Gita's mind grumbled that -she- wanted to be one that was there for Lorelei, when it was dark and scary. It was quickly pushed aside.

"Adele? Really? Oh, Lor', I'm sorry."

What kind of sick game thought that was fair play?

Lorelei offered a reassuring smile in response. "It is okay, you need not worry about me. Anyway, to continue the story, some time was spent spooking me with the fake Adelle before it suddenly appeared behind me, entered the area that my light touched--something I thought impossible for the darkness--and grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth so I could not even scream. I dropped my drill and the light I had kept up since entering faded, and darkness ruled again. For a time I thought I was doomed...

"But then I just...became angry. I was more angry than I have ever been in my entire life. I was sick and fed up of all that was happening and had reached the breaking point. To quote that American movie, I was 'mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore.' Directing that into my will, and without the aid of my drill, I brought the light back all around me, brighter than ever before. I destroyed the fake Adelle and took a Gordian Knot solution to the problem: I sensed what direction the darkness was strongest towards, and shot a beam of light greater in height and width than any man who has ever lived towards it. The hope magic tore through the walls of the labyrinth but stopped dead at a miniscule black gem on a pedestal, becoming absorbed into it. This was the core of the darkness, what caused its presence here."

Her friend frowned, considering this next development. "How'd you know that? And what'd you do about it? Just shove more GAR at the problem, Dai-Gurren style?"

"I could...sense it,I suppose. It was sort of like knowledge that came in a realization immediately upon seeing it. A gnosis of sorts." She chuckled softly. "That is what I pretty much ended up doing, yes. I tried for a little while to see if there was any sort of artful way to destroy it, but ended up just blasting it with as much magic as possible. Everything I threw it absorbed, so I kept throwing more and more and more... I recall that all around me was white, and still I could not overcome it. Yet, I did not give up, and soon enough I broke through. All of the magic the core had absorbed suddenly exploded out, utterly destroying the caverns as it shot into the sky. That was the enormous beam of light you saw."

Gita imagined this as best she could. Gita remembered her experiences on Derse, just hours before. She shivered.

"Oh-oh. Wow. I was, you know, I was a little bit worried about you when I saw that? I mean, we had no idea what it meant."

"Well, I was quite fine! Extremely tired, but fine. After that I just rested and talked with Khirun until I was ready to fly back to the angels. They, as seems to be their wont, left me with some answers and more questions. Specifically they mentioned how my victory set me down the creator path of Hope (the choice being a creator and destroyer) and a bit more about that whole 'transformation process' they keep alluding to."

"T-t-transformation."

Lorelei raised a curious eyebrow. "Is something the matter, Gita...?" The idea of a transformation process, of course, did scare Lorelei a bit, but did not seem to warrant such a severe reaction by someone not going through this "transformation".

""No, just--don't worry about it." Gita pulled the grin back onto her face. "Derse dreams, you know? I don't want to get you worked up all over something I haven't figured out yet. Jumping to conclusions is a bad mix with prophecies, and all."

Just because she looks like that in your head doesn't mean that's what's really going on. Like you even know what's going on in your head, Gita

"Derse dreams?" She gave her friend a worried, fearful look. "I know you said I should not worry about it, but... well, you can talk to me about anything, just to let you know. I am here if you need me." Lorelei cleared her throat and bounced right back to storyteller mode. After all, if Gita genuinely did not want to speak about it at the moment, dwelling on it would only make it worse. She would speak on it when she was ready, and Lorelei was satisfied enough knowing that Gita knew she was there for her. "Anyway... I asked the angels something like 'what if I do not want to go through this "transformation"?' I swear they almost laughed when I said that, and told me that I already had. That I always have. They mentioned that I would never make any other choice, which just makes no sense to me... How can something be set in stone and yet a choice? That seems more like the grim dictum of fate than choice..."

Goddamn spooky, angels. Like this game doesn't have enough stuff like that already.

"...Yeah. Yeah. Fate's funny like that, isn't it? When it throws something into your path that makes itself like she's always been there, and you don't know what to do about it?" Gita chewed the back of a knuckle in thought. "But when the world doesn't give us any choices about how to act or what happens next, we can still change how we feel."

"I just wish I knew what it meant so I would know what to feel about it...yet they keep saying that I should have patience because I will learn soon enough." Lorelei sighed. "They did end up starting my training with the hope magic, though. And apparently I will eventually be trained by some 'Mother of Angels' as well? Their creator or something... I cannot help but wonder if she is some sort of god..." Idly, without even truly realizing she had done it, she fiddled with the crucifix visibly hanging from her neck.

Impulsively, Gita reached out and hugged her friend. It was a brief, tight, squeeze--and she immediately pulled back afterwards, so as not be noticed lingering. Okay. Probably immediately.

"Sorry, Lorelei," Gita offered, smiling widely at Lorelei. "That part I can't help you with. The only 'gods' I hear about are more like demons."

Lorelei mirrored the smile with an extra tint of thankfulness in her eyes. "Thank you, Gita. I suppose time will tell, hmm? As the angels remind me over and over again." She paused for a moment in pensive thought. "Well, besides that, they also explained the difference between being a creator and destroyer of hope, if you want me to talk about that?"

"Mmmmm." Relaxing now, Gita tucked her legs up in front of her and curled up on the chair's seat--being careful not to flash or reveal too much in her starry black-and-blue dress. "If you'd like, Lorelei.

"Well, I have no real reason to blabber on about it unless you have curiosity which needs to be filled." She spared another admiring look at Gita's clothes. "I forgot to mention this when I arrived, but your outfit is positively lovely, by the way. Did you alchemize it or already own it?"

Once more, blush colored Gita's cheeks. But also, pride! She noticed! It's lovely! SUCCESS.

"Alchemy. Using some astrological codes, and a photo of a little black-and-white number I'd always admired. I'm glad you've got the fire roaring in here though--the walk over was freezing!"

"Any price to pay for fashion, hmm?" She giggled lightly. "You know, that reminds me of a story from where I went to school back before all this. There was this young woman about my age named Gunda Von Houfhaussen, and she loved elaborate dresses..."

===>

[Naevius]

"Um."

A soft sound, almost beneath notice were it not for the relative familiarity of the owner's voice. A certain visibly awkward young girl stood just to the side of Dahlia's chair (for even if it technically belonged to the Von Hayeks, her hind quarters had long since conquered it this day), carrying a plate laden with the banquet table's manifold offerings. Page Caldwell fidgeted for a few moments as Dahlia turned to notice her, and then offered the plate to her friend.

"I...brought you food, I guess. I mean, I figured I needed to repay you for that sandwich I ate over at your house, I think.. I, um, didn't know what you liked, really, so there's just...kind of everything on there, sort of. Help yourself, perhaps? Or not, if you're not hungry, I suppo..." Her voice trailed off into nothingness, never quite completing the sentence it started.

Dahlia, as she did before, quickly assessed her options... though, really, there wasn't all that much assessing to do in this case. Of all the people at the party, Page was on the short list of the most tolerable ones to be bothered by. Maybe even at the top of it.

Not that she'd admit that out loud.

"Shh." She chuckled quietly and held up a finger to Page, and took the plate before the girl could psych herself entirely out of conversation. She even smiled gratefully when she did so, and set the Santa mug on a nearby end table, at least temporarily lowering the unspoken defensive field around her position. "This is fine... and really, you don't owe me anything. You were there and there was food -- even I'm not that much of a jerk."

Page instinctively matched Dahlia's smile with a soft one of her own, and walked around to the front of the chair. "Well, thank you, anyway, of course." She paused for a moment as realization hit: "...Come to think of it, trying to pay you back with someone else's food is kind of silly anyway, I guess. I'd have to feed you myself but I can't really cook and the library isn't exactly made for that kind of thing, really..."

"I think we'll all have a lot bigger things to worry about than who owes who dinner from now on. Some of us more than others." Dahlia's expression soured briefly... but lit up again just as quickly as an idea occurred to her. "...Ahem, anyway. Pull up a chair, would ya? We can share that end table if you want to go get yourself some food too." A roguish grin. "And maybe it'll help keep the natives away, if it looks like I'm busy."

Page giggled lightly and set about to finding a nearby chair. "Should we set up a stake perimeter as well, maybe?"

"Nah... I'm looking to keep out humans, not vampires." Wait for it...

Page snorted with laughter. "Oh, really?" With a little bit of strain for her weak arms, she dragged up what was probably the single largest, most comfortable-looking lounge chair in the room, and jumped up into the waiting leather cushion. "With how pale you are, I'm wondering if you're just scared, perhaps."

Whoa! The kitten has claws!

...There may be hope for you yet, kid.

"Really," Dahlia lilted, in her best fake Romanian accent, "vhy must you be so cruel? I just vant a little companionship. The nights are so chilly on this planet." She chuckled, shaking her head. After a few bites of food, she continued in perfect conversational deadpan (and, fortunately, her normal tone, because Dahlia wasn't quite certain how long she could take herself seriously talking like that). "Besides, we all know I'm a space alien, not a vampire. I don't think they make alien vampires. Except that one really awful movie..."

Really? Because your lines sometimes sound like something from that movie, I think. ...Ahaha, no, that's way too mean, definitely. And not true, besides, really. A most mischievous of grins--far out of Page's normal character--appeared for a few moments, but Page quickly enough moved on. "Maybe you're an alien version of a vampire, perhaps? Like, with a neat name in some alien language and with different powers, perhaps."

Humor, of course, was a common enough coping mechanism, especially for Dahlia. While the whole broaching of the topic of Dahlia's alien nature made her a bit uncomfortable and worried, she tried her best to follow suit with the joking. After all, if Dahlia wanted to talk about it, she would. Treating the issue like something to always be tip-toed around wouldn't help. Right? Page sure hoped she was right.

Dahlia was quiet for a long moment, staring off into the distance somewhere beyond a distant window. "Hey Page," she began, voice unusually soft; wistful, even, perhaps. "If I--" She cut off sharply, grinning and shaking her head at her own foolishness. "Nah, never mind."

How can you ask her a question when you don't even know what you want?

'If I really am an alien -- if I'm some monster, some horrible thing...' What then? What would you ask her? 'Will you still be my friend?'

Don't be stupid... Delta.

Dahlia laughed again, shaking her head and waving the whole thing off with one hand. "So how are you liking the party? The... 'festivities'. And so forth."

Her sadness and nervousness could not, of course, pass by the CALDWELL EMOTIONAL RADAR(tm) without detection. She gave Dahlia a worried look and, as was her wont, instantly began to blame herself. "I'm sorry, was it the joking around, maybe? I mean, I just thought I was going along with things and you didn't want to talk about it and treating it humorous would help, perhaps. Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt y-"

Another raised finger silenced Page's verbal stumbling. "Shh." A long pause, finger held aloft. "...Shh." After a long moment, Dahlia lowered her hand, shaking her head once more, smiling the nearest to an apologetic smile Page had ever seen on her face. "Don't worry about it, honestly. It's... well, I mean. It's not you. It's me."

Beat.

Dahlia suddenly bowed her head in shame, groaning and rubbing at her forehead with one hand. "Jesus fuck, I just said that, didn't I? Like I actually just said it. I seriously just said 'it's not you, it's me'." Another dramatic sigh, and she buried her face in her hands. "I cannot believe I said something that cheesy. Just... just shoot me now, my life is over." And another exaggerated groan -- just long enough for Dahlia to drag her hands down her face, and lift it to look to Page with a broad grin. It was all in good humor. It was all a joke.

(Except the parts that weren't.)

Page couldn't help but giggle and laugh at the jokes on the surface, but the CALDWELL EMOTIONAL RADAR(tm) wasn't quite ready to stop pinging, nor its owner quite ready to drop the subject of Dahlia's almost-question. Dahlia had to know that she could at least ask Page anything she wanted. "Well, you can ask me anything, definitely. Or tell me anything too. What were you going to ask, perhaps?"

FFFFFFFFFFF-

Poor, clueless kid. Haven't you learned by now, Dahlia Asher? You can't escape the radar. No one escapes the radar.

"Fine." Dahlia grumbled resignedly. Instinct bade her reach for the Santa mug, to reestablish her conversational defensive perimeter... but something told her that at this point, nothing short of waving it in Page's face would dissuade her, and perhaps not even that. And she didn't quite feel like being branded a sociopath.

At least, not moreso than she already was.

"I guess, with all that's been going on lately... all that stuff in the lab, on top of all this Sburb craziness -- which, lest we forget, is already ten pounds of crazy in a five-pound bag -- and with all this stuff with me, and... y'know... well, the lab. The meteor." A pause. She still wasn't quite sure how to word it. Honestly, the thought had never really even crossed her mind at any point prior to yesterday. "I hope, when all's said and done, that we'll all still be friends."

That wasn't the question she wanted to ask. But it was close enough.

"...God that was fucking cheesy. Don't tell anyone else I said all that, alright?"

Page smiled her sweetest, brightest smile. The "It's ok, don't be afraid" smile she had shown Dahlia in their first meeting. The one that seemed to light up any room she was in. The one utterly without guile or hidden meaning. "Of course we will, definitely! I don't see why we wouldn't, not at all! And it's okay to be cheesy sometimes, really. Maybe you ARE an alien vampire from that movie, perhaps?" That one she couldn't resist, even if part of her worried it was the wrong thing to say.

Oh, you want cheesy, do you? In her mind's eye, Dahlia leapt up, striking her best dramatic pose with that fluttering black coat like a vampire's cloak, holding a sleeve briefly over the bottom half of her face before faking a lunge at Page's neck, to the smaller girl's horror and her own amusement.

But Dahlia was scheming to put other people in compromising situations (so said her mistletoe-on-a-fishing-pole), not herself. It wouldn't do to fall prey to her own ploy simply because she got carried away having fun with Page.

It had been fun, though. Dahlia sighed.

But smiled, too.

[Ripcord]

The moment's silence between Page Cadlwell and Dahlia Asher was suddenly pierced by a deafening roar...

...from the former's stomach. Page turned a shade that would be all too appetizing were her friend truly a creatue of the night and nervously ran a hand through her hair. "Oh... Um... That was...kind of loud, wasn't it?" She didn't even know WHY she was still hungry! She had, after all, already gone through one plate of food at the banquet table before coming to offer Dahlia some food of her own. Yet, it seemed, that was not enough for her leviathan appetite. Where that appetite came from, however, Page couldn't say.

"Um... I'm just going t-to... Go... take up your offer to share that table of yours, perhaps." Utterly embarrassed, Page leaped up from her chair and walked quickly back towards the banquet table.

Dahlia simply chuckled to herself, nodding her silent okay on the matter -- not that Page ought need it, but in this case, it was best to be certain. When the girl was an adequate distance away, Dahlia leaned over, on pretense of picking up her Santa mug again, and cupped a hand briefly over her mouth aimed boxwards.

"Psst. You can come out now, Solid Schmuck. She's gone."

!

"Uh... thanks. I think."

===>



===>



"Can you just, kind of, not tell anyone about this? Please?"

"I have no intention of making your life any more miserable than you have inevitably already managed with that stunt..." Dahlia snatched up her mug and settled back into the chair, pausing for a sip (and dramatic effect) before continuing matter-of-factly. If only he could see the grin she was hiding behind that loathsome Santa. "...at least, not yet."

If that abhorrent mug had been resting on the armrest, feet from Dahlia's face, it would still have obscured her shit-eating grin.

===>



"What-"

Try as he might, Zach could not avert his gaze. Every second his eyes spent locked with those of the soulless, bastardized Kringle felt like an eternity, every moment the end of another existence.

===>



"Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."

-Donald Trump, business tycoon.

"WELP time to hide some more goodbye."

That's about when he dashed off.

Page returned, plate laden with food and eyes laden with curiosity.

"What'd I miss?"

[Naevius]

===>

So it continued for some time. Shenanigans were had, conversations were made, and food was devoured. After roughly a half hour of this, the young hostess beckoned her comrades around the great tree with a siren call none could resist:

"So, I do believe it is time to open presents! What shall the order be? By entry into the game, perhaps?"

Peter did a quick count on his fingers to check that order before offering his suggestion. "How about you go first 'cause it's your party, and then the rest of us go in that order?"

"Oh, I am going second anyway, and it is precisely because I am the host that it would be unladylike to vaunt myself ahead of others." She picked up a medium-sized box--festively red and green wrapping paper with the words "Froehliche Weihnachten" in flowing silver script emblazoned on it--from underneath the tree and set it down before Peter. "This is from me!" Lying in wait underneath the paper and tinsel were a myriad of papercraft supplies, as well as various patterns--some from the internet, some created via alchemy with such subjects as consorts, skaia and the planets, and other various notable structures within the game.

"Oh, thanks! It's not going to blow up, is it?" Peter shook the box violently as he asked this, knowing from the weight and the sound it made that whatever was in there would not explode, or even become damaged. "I was hoping that wasn't gonna' happen more than- wait, spoilers." He tried to suppress a shit-eating grin before it could show on his face, but couldn't help but smile when he saw what was in the box. "Oh man I am going to make all kinds of things, you don't even know."

Lorelei matched him grin for grin. "Well, I am quite glad you like it! I was more than a little worried that I would not be able to match whatever diabolical scheme you have in mind for my own present." She picked up another box from under the tree and handed it off. "Aaaand this is from Page." Page's gift was a small, flat box wrapped in wrapping paper clearly alchemized from some catalogue within her library, as it was not the kind that any normal person would simply purchase from a regular store--bright red, with little pictures of santa driving his sleigh over it and snowflakes dotted across. Within was what, at first, seemed a simple eyepatch. However, the trick to the eyepatch was that while it did not allow any others to see past it, Peter could see through it just fine.

As Peter took the eyepatch from the box, he could see right away that it was effectively a less efficient Solid Eye, without the additional features like the HUD or the telescope or pesterchum. He still thanked Page, of course, and stowed the gift safely away in his sylladex. Who knows, it might be useful later if he ever needed a non-electronic eyepatch. "Alright so I think that makes Zach next? Or are we doing like client-server order and not entry order and it's Dahlia?"

...

He hoped nobody took that the wrong way.

Quick, Lorelei, which way should you go to minimize any potential uncomfortableness about John's death? ...I HAVE NO IDEA. Time to pull a Lombardi and just wing it, then. "Um. Well, client-server order is fine." She, perhaps a little too quickly, turned and retrieved the present from Dahlia to hand it off to Peter.

Aaand she took it the wrong way. Just stop talking now, dumbass. "Uh... alright." Peter took the present from her hand, an envelope containing a sylladex card containing...

Time Traveler's Handbook of 1001 Tense Formations

"Ha"

Anyway, he was now down to the last two. Some kind of alien-looking shock staff from Zach, clearly alchemized, and an ornate brass pocketwatch from Gita, clearly awesome. You can never have too many watches.

"You're up, Lor!"

[Naevius]

"That it is! I have been wondering for quite some time just what your dastardly plan has been, soooo..." Lorelei rummaged through the various grey boxes, all gifts from Peter, to find the one addressed to the Von Hayek. She took a few moments to try and figure out what might be inside just based off the size of the box--a habit she'd had since the first Christmas she could remember. Sure, one could just tear open the present to see what was inside, but where was the fun in that? She turned the box this way and that, tested the weight, shook it a bit with her ear pressed up to i-

"You know, most people do that the night before Christmas." Not that 'most people' included Dahlia, of course, this being the closest thing to a normal Christmas she'd experienced in nearly ten years. But she still took the opportunity to snark anyway; still leaned in with that impish grin, and feigned a grab for the box herself. "...Unless you're trying to make sure it's not something horrbly mushy that you don't want us all to see." She leaned back then, kicking her feet back up onto a low endtable she'd brought for just that purpose, her grin the smuggest of the smug.

Lorelei snorted, but the red color on her cheeks was fairly unmistakeable. "Come on, don'tbesilly!" She immediately cut to the chase and tore open the wrapping paper with all the ferocity of a lioness sinking its claws into a tasty wildebeast or some other miscellaneous african prey animal. What lay waiting inside at first baffled her.

===>



"Human Action...?" Then, of course, she noticed the scrawl in black ink on the cover, detailing the supremely eloquent recommendation by the gift-giver. Curiosity thoroughly piqued, she turned to one of the first pages.

===>



That got a bit of a chuckle out of her. Out of curiosity she flipped ahead to a random page, and found a drawing that provoked a sudden and clamorous, "Pfffthahahahahaha, what?!"

===>



Somewhere along the way--and Lorelei found herself intensely wondering just how the shift occurred--the whimsical word-swapping in the first pages became a dramatic and tense story featuring Ludwig Von Mises facing down against two dastardly mustachioed villains named Pepe L'fwanch and Jacques Strappe of the equally dastardly French nationality. For the benefit of the audience, she began to read aloud:

" When I regained consciousness, the first thing I noticed was the stench of musty jungle air, permeated by familiar French cuisine. An old brie recipie, passed through the ranks of Les Salauds Capitalistes ever since the sinister organization had been formed. They must be behind the mime uprisings, I had begun to think, when I sighted two recognizable and highly unwelcome shillouettes huddled in a doorway.

"Strappe."

"Loodveeg."

As they started toward me, grim-faced and with stale baguettes in hand, I readied the chainsaw hidden within my bionic foot, and began to form my escape plan. "

The chainsaw in the bionic foot was just too much, and Lorelei could read no further for the giggle fit that held her in its clutches. When she finally regained some semblance of control, she snapped the book shut and favored her new friend with a hug. "Seems I am going to have quite a bit of reading to do. Thank you, Peter."

"Haha, you have no idea." It was true. He'd been working on this for no fewer than six iterations of yesterday. Peter hugged his crush back and muttered nervously, "I, uh, think Page is up."

"Ah, yes, of course!" She let go and returned to the pile of gaudily-wrapped presents from Page to find the one labeled for herself. The box was roughly the size of Peter's present, and Lorelei's first prediction was that it was yet another book. Nevertheless, for the sake of the audience, she did not undergo her regular rigmarole regarding gifts this time. Just as before, she tore into the present with incredibly unladylike fervor.

Sure enough, the prize waiting within was a book, but none Lorelei had ever seen before. The gold script on the front claimed the book to be "The Illustrated Guide to Friendleadership". Thoroughly perplexed, Lorelei opened the thick tome and turned to a random page. This she noticed was an excerpt from the Anabasis. She turned a few more pages to find bits of Marcus Aurelius' "Meditations"--another one of Churchill's speeches and so on. Each relevant excerpt was followed by a bit that summed up the relevant friendleadery lessons to be found within that portion.

"This is amazing, Page! Did you alchemize this?"

Page nodded with a delighted smile that her gift was well-received. "Yes, I did. I found a bunch of relevant books in the library and just kind of threw them together in alchemy until I got that, I think."

As with Peter, Lorelei gave Page a friendly hug in thanks. "Next is Dahlia, correct? Haha, I cannot wait to see what sort of abomination THIS is." She picked out the dark blue envelope addressed to her and pulled the sylladex card from within. "Sunglasses...? Ahaha! Kamina-style, too."

"Well, you know," Dahlia chuckled, grinning and leaning back in her chair, hands clasped behind her head, "it's like they say: your future's so bright, you gotta wear shades." She suddenly snapped forward, elbows resting on her knees, chin on one hand and gesturing pointedly with the other. "Now, before you get on me about buying you stuff you already own -- first off, how the heck do you figure out a present for the girl who's got everything?" She lifted her head to glance around, only barely suppressing a roll of her eyes. "Like literally everything." Back to elbows-on-knees, and back to grinning and wagging a finger. "And secondly, you never wear the pair you have. Prescription glasses, I know, get in the way of stuff like that. So look closely at the back."

Lorelei dutifully put the glasses in her sylladex, pulled them back out, then turned the glasses around. "Ah, clip-ons, then! Excellent!" She clipped the glasses onto her own prescription ones and favored her friend with a smile. "Thank you, Dahlia. I assume you wish to skip the hug that I gave Peter and Page, hmm?"

"Never saw Kamina hugging Kittan, so let's skip the mushy stuff, yeah." Dahlia waved it off, then settled back into her chair, still grinning. She was actually pretty proud of herself for actually coming up with something useful, given how literally impossible Lorelei would be to shop for. "Alchemized 'em from the DVDs plus an old pair of clip-ons I found lying around the lab, so who knows, maybe they'll even transform if you channel enough Spiral Power through 'em, not that I'd be able to test that sort of thing." A pause, staring off into the distance briefly. "Not that I know what 'Spiral Power' would be in this place." She shrugged. "Oh well. Dumb joke anyway. Oh, right, and Merry Christmas and all that."

"Well, the angels DID say that my white magic was my own will, so maybe that works? Merry Christmas and all that to you as well, my friend." Still wearing those lovely shades, she turned back to the presents. Let us seeee... I have already received my present from Zach in the form of my drill, so next shall beee...Gita!"

Lorelei retrieved her final gift from underneath the tree: a small box. Once agains he resisted the urge to try and figure out what it was before opening it and ripped into the wrapping. What awaited inside was a small, beautiful little pendant necklance, the pendant being what appeared to be half of an angel wing. "Wow... This is absolutely gorgeous, Gita, thank you!" She took out the necklace and held it up to the light. "You know, this looks just like the wings of a symbol I saw quite a bit around the angels' meadow. Did you alchemize this from anything related to my element or something, or is that coincidence?"

"Yeah, it is? Hell of a coincidence, then..." Gita smiled, pleased. In truth, the alchemization sequence had included some of the art she'd created in months past, trying to process the visions and prophecies that a life dreaming on Derse left one prey to. "I'm...I'm glad it turned out to be appropriate in more ways than one."

"I truly wonder if coincidences even exist anymore." She took off the crucifix that she had been wearing up to that point, captchalogued it, and then put the new necklace on. "There, how does it look?"

"Beautiful. You look beautiful." Gita couldn't stop smiling. Impulsively, she reached forward before Lorelei had the opportunity, and hugged her. ""Merry Christmas."

"Hehehe, thank you, Gita." She hugged her friend back warmly, somewhat surprised that Gita had acted first but by no means unwelcoming. "Merry Christmas to you as well.

"I do believe, though, that is all for me? Very well, I suppose next in line is P-"

"Not quite," came a thoroughly distinguished, accented voice from the room's entrance. "You have one more you've forgotten to open."

Lorelei's already bright golden eyes only lit up further as she turned towards the sound. "Opa!" Sure enough, the pater familias of the Von Hayek household stood at its source, carrying a small golden envelope, much the size of Dahlia's, addressed to his scion. Lorelei hardly paid any attention to that at first, though, being far too busy running up to her grandfather to hug him.

"I'd compliment you for your timing, sir," Florian remarked from his chair with a shit-eating grin that even Dahlia might be proud of, "had I not heard you waiting in the other room for just this moment."

Grandfather muttered something under his breath that almost sounded like scheisse but quickly changed the subject: "If we may ignore the dreadfully disobedient servant for a moment, I have your final gift for the night."

He handed off the envelope to his scion, who proceeded to tear the envelope with just as much enthusiasm as she had her presents before (making sure not to harm anything within, of course). Waiting within was a sylladex card of, not shades, but A painting for her wall--though, unlike the original book illustration, this painting version was rendered in actual color.

"Wow...deja vu!" In answer to her grandfather's wordless questioning look, she continued: "Oh, I was just thinking about the poem this was from earlier! It is a long story. The gift is quite wonderful, thank you." She hugged her grandfather once again to reinforce the point.

"Truly? I was not aware it was from a poem. I simply found this in a painting sale and thought you would like it," he responded, returning the hug.

"Anyway, we should probably not hold up the proceedings any longer, yes?" she returned to her place under the tree, but stopped before going for Page's presents. "Speaking of which, why do I not speed this along a bit by placing each remaining person's gifts in a pile and letting them open at will?" She followed suit with her plan and this time sat with the rest of the group around the tree, joined by her grandfather who stood behind.

"Page, I do believe you are next!"