[NP] Northport

[Rebonack]

Hiya, and welcome to Northport! This is a self-contained modern setting that seeks to integrate elements of sci-fi and fantasy. Hop over to the OOC (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=167785) and get a feel for how things work! Feel free to jump in after you introduce yourself out of character and write up a quick bio for your PC.

There are some mysterious shenanigans afoot, cloaked in the rain. Best be on your guard! More in depth descriptions of the city's districts are to come, but feel free to check out the brief summaries in the OOC.

[Oldtown]

It's been raining for a long time now.

The days and nights just run together with a sky so perpetually dark. They flow. Out across the sea and into the city, across the roofs and down the gutters. Into the sewers and off to gods knows where. Day to night and night to day in a city that never sleeps. No sunlight worth mentioning. Not a star in the sky. Only bleak gray clouds and harsh electric glow.

It's been raining for a long time now.

Taxis sloshing through the flooded intersections here in Oldtown, pedestrians huddling behind umbrellas to avoid the spray. You might think we have a few rivers for roads. An errant splash and a ruined suit and tempers rise. There have been lots of rising tempers of late. The dreary weather is starting to sog up our souls just as it has our city. Faces as cold as the wind.

It's been raining for a long time now.

A banner hangs limp across the Museum of History, proclaiming to all the awe and wonder to be found in the new Mesopotamian exhibit. There aren't many here that have been feeling much wonder, let alone awe. The wind has been tugging at it, leaving it tattered and worn. You might think it a relic of bygone decades from its state. But inside... inside all is clean and dry and dark, only the patter of rain and the click-clack of footsteps in the shadows break the silence.

And the hum.

The hum of an incessantly flickering florescent lamp. It's been changed five times now, but it has yet to help. Must be the wiring they say. And so too does the room flicker, casting dreadful shapes in the darkness. Statues and fetishes and old urns once forgotten by time. Somethings to that would have best been left forgotten. The grotesque idol sits atop the pedestal below a protective shroud of glass and motion-detectors. From its throne it leers out across its dark little domain, a squat demon of jet hued jade.

There it waits.

It's been raining for a long time now.

And it leads one to wonder-

-why?


[Curtistown]

Here, civic funding seems to have hit a low point. Spiderweb cracks on the pavement where dying grass peaks through, rough gray pavement with it's network of tar-filled crevices... Even the lamps come on at night in flickering spurts to briefly shine their weak, yellow light before drifting back into hazy darkness. Here, the wind whistles past the door-frames with a cold wailing and the cozy noises inside come out warped, faded. The laughter just behind inside those walls drifts through to feel like a memory not quite forgotten in a place that seems to be all but left to the doldrums.

Where the houses end and the market begins, neon lights glare harshly through the gloom as some declare themselves to be OP_N at best while others just show brief signs of life before descending back into a slumber. A few 'cellar stores' with their steps leading down off the street seem to be a slow decent into the very realm of shadows from which return is a question asked by only the most hopeful. During the day, the smoke from the industrial sector clouds this part of Newport in an almost eternal gray, muted, fog. Even the streets here have only the occasional sign of traffic, pedestrian and otherwise and every third shop's front holds outdated merchandise covered with varying degrees of cobwebs as if the owner simply got up and left and never bothering to hang up the 'CLOSED' sign. Each one of these small stores sitting like a discarded skin of a snake or spider, holding things now old and rusting from a bygone age, their tarnished signs echoing sharp squeaks as they sway in the gentle breeze.

These are the lanes less traveled to some yet those most familiar..... To Others...


[Mercury City]

The quick-tempo slap of feet on concrete creates a smooth backbeat in which this glitzy, gaudy, and glamorous section of city revels in. The glimmering chrome and art deco from long past still holds its charms and many a resident of Newport says that it only gets better with age. Restaurants with their doors thrown open waft scents, some saucy and some sweet, in hopes of enticing anyone off the street to come in and 'tickle the ivories.'

And what is dinner without a show? Big bands with their brass and bass, polished to a mirror finish, tap out a thumping theme while sultry singers soothingly serenade their listeners' souls from the stage. For those with tastes more refined, a theater house one might find illuminated with bright lights, their names blared into the night like a crisp clean note from a silver trumpet with neon signs. Be it a stage show or a super-sized silver screen, each is sure to please. For those inclined for a more active role in their entertainment, look no further than the classy clubs dotting the street. Each has its own flavor from old-style sit-down speakeasy to the photoelectric post-modern in which to dance the night away.

Mercury City is the heartbeat of Newport from dusk to dawn to dusk again and there is never a last call.


[Harbor District]

Thousands of people work in the Harbor District, yet it still seems empty, like some long forgotten ruin. The air is clammy and thick in this place, where the smoking by-products of industry blend into the endless mackerel sky. Abandoned factories yawn like monsters of concrete and rusting metal, while squat, gray production facilities operate like guarded compounds, walled away from some unseen enemy. Further out, one can hear the lonely calls of hunting sea-birds and see the harsh glow of the northern Atlantic. Most people avoid the Harbor District..people simply feel, unwelcome, as if they were in someone else's home without their permission. It's a hard feeling to define, and most would simply rather avoid it...

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

Jackson idly tapped a thin finger on the bar counter in time with the music. The rain had put a bit of a hamper on buisness but it was hardly noticible for a Mercury City joint. The bartender lit up another cigar and let out with a long puff of blue smoke. He'd tell just about everyone else that the things would kill'em and that it was a nasty habit for those who wanted to stay alive. Thankfully, however, he didn't have that problem. That was because Jackson was a skeleton man and rather proud of it. His bar, The Trombone was half empty, typical for the early noon-day crowd, and the only person playing was another 'vitally challenged' member of the human race.

Yeah, he still thought of himself as human even on this side of death. No reason why not. n'Fact most of the dead didn't change their opinion once they skipped over to this side of the river, so to speak. Jack motioned for the zombie up on stage to take five. The kid was doing alright but he'd been up there for two hours. It was best to keep switching players around or else the 'normies' would get some wierd vibes about the man playing for three days straight. It was interesting, not feelling tired anymore. It was also interesting seeing how he rather missed sleep. It wasn't that he missed the rest but he rather liked dreaming.

But what can you do? Jack shrugged, let out another puff and mixed a complementary drink for the trombone zombie. He was known for handing out drinks willy-nilly like that. He could afford it. It wasn't like he needed to spend money on eating or creature comforts. Sure, he could still eat or drink when he wanted or get drunk or whatever but he never felt the urges anymore. That and letting the banks with their interest build on what he had left in them made him pretty well off. But he was a people-person at heart, ignoring the fact that he lacked one, and so opened up this bar almost... Huh, been almost ten years now. That was another thing. Time wasn't so urgent.

A few normies came in. Regulars. They weren't 'awake' or so the term was with his crowd. They just saw a thin bartender with a pretty good shirt smoking a cigar. He often wondered if he had been like them, not seeing what was really there when it was right infront of him. Well, not like it was worth worrying about. So, with a big, toothy smile, he asked them in his accented, gravely voice what they wanted and then delivered. It was a nice little operation and everyone was happy.

He let himself make a passing glance to the door as he usually did. Maybe someone new might come in today. New faces were always nice.

[Earl of Purple]

Mercury City; The Trombone

A male gremlin enters the bar. He's short, with green eyes and no hair. He is currently out of uniform, and wearing a pair of battered jeans and a rumpled t-shirt; his skin is slightly grimy, but he shouldn't smell as bad as some previous patrons. He'll walk to the bar, possibly near where Jackson is. "I'll have a beer, please." His voice is slightly croaky.

[Creed]

Curtistown- Streets
A young man dressed in a sharp suit is something some people note. When that man walks the streets of Curtistown, a grimace fixed onto his face and an umbrella over his head, deflecting the incoming rain, everyone takes notice.
Today was one of the few days the Dominik felt extremely anxious and frustrated. At first, the rain had been good for buisness. Gangs were taking advantage of the flooded streets to commit more and more daring violent crimes. But as the waters rose, they became more of a nuisance. The Crucible had been flooded last week, nearly drowning the men in the back room playing cards, and costing Dominik several hundred dollars in repairs. In a buisness where one's very life could be decided by the amount of attention you drew and how much you could bribe authorities to look the other way, the results were looking poorly for Black Iron.
No, Dominik was not a happy man. In fact, he could not remember ever being happy. This sensation of joy that other humans experienced simply did not come naturally to him. Greed and pleasure he could understand, but happiness for it's own sake befuddled the man. And the rains did not make him any more happy then he had ever been.
He walked into the Crucible, where the employees were almost finished refurnishing the small bar. Dominik didn't give them a second glance and walked into the back, where the actual owner of the bar and Dominik's assistant, Mikael, sat waiting.
Good to see you, sir. Mikael slurred. It was obvious to the man's superior that he had imbiebed a little of the bar's stock already today, even at this ungodly hour of the day.
Get James and Daniel to go down to the weather station and find out when the hell this rain is going to let up. Dominik spat decisivly.
No, Dominik was not a happy man.

((OOC: Introductory post FTW!:smalltongue:))

[Terumitsu]

{Mercury City-The Trombone}

Jackson gave his toothy smile and asked "Off tap or bottled, sah? We've got a local micro-brewer that's pretty good if you like." he said. He couldn't say he'd seen many gremlins around here. Not that he hadn't seen many gremlins. He'd seen plenty and knew one who could brew a gin strong enough to put the dead back down again... For a few hours at least. It was just that he didn't see many in his bar. Not a bad thing but just something else to think about.

Once he hears the gremlin's selection, he would pass that down the bar and let loose with a good ol'fasioned smoke ring. He was proud of those. Took him forever to learn how to do that. Of course, how he did it without cheeks or lips was a question he frankly wouldn't be able to answer. It was probably best just to accept it anyway. "So, what'cha do these days, sah?"

[Ponderthought]

Mercury City, the Trombone

Simon sighed heavily. The rain had put a real damper on everything. He couldn't get a decent hot dog, the traffic was atrocious, and he sure as hell couldn't pound the pavement abit and find out what was causing it. He winced as his cell phone squawked at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Well until the intel guys figure it out there's really nothing we can do about it. Yeah, I know, it's a drag, but where would you find your normal guys in rain like this? Their probably all in their little hidey holes trying to wait this thing out. Alright then, see you later boss."

He set the cell down on the bar. Man did he hate being on call all day. Especially when all he could do was twiddle his thumbs and put up with his boss' little case of ADD.

"Hey Jackson, can I get another Tecate? It's looking like it's gonna be a long day.

[Earl of Purple]

Mercury City; The Trombone

"Off tap, please." When delivered, the gremlin takes quite a long swig. "I'm a mechanic. I fix cars. Work for Harry's Car Clinic. May've heard of them. What about you? What do you do when you're not behind the bar?" The gremlin seems rather unfazed by the fact he's talking to a skeleton.

[Terumitsu]

Jackson laughed. "He's at it again, eh?" the bone man asked as he slid one down the counter. It was nice and frosty with sweat forming the moment it hit the moist air. "You want me to keep the usual waiting for you again?" he asked.

There wasn't much to be phased about, really. Supernatural things were usually not too phased when they met other supernatural things. "I leave the bar?" he said with a mock serious tone. He laughed again and then said "Nah, I kid. I read mostly. Or look for new help. Need someone to cover for the daytime. Haven't been able to find someone stable enough for it yet after my last day-timer quit." he said

[Earl of Purple]

Mercury City; The Trombone

"Unfortunately for you, I'm quite happy with my job. Get to fix things. Why'd they quit?" The gremlin, named Hubert, has another swig of beer.

[Ponderthought]

"Yeah, that'd be swell. Your a saint, Jacko."

He rubbed his temples. It seemed like the changing air pressure was going to destroy his sinuses by the end of the week. or maybe it would be the boredom. Being a field agent sucked when the field was flooded. He tossed a high five to the zombie musician as he passed behind him.

"Hey Benny, nice set."

He smirked. Benny could play some mean brass, but damn did he reek. He glanced down at his hand in sudden realization.

"Oh for god's sake."

[ApeofLight]

[Old Town Museum of History]

Michael sat there in the museum with a few old books and a few copies of ancient manuscripts and pictures and pictures of the newly arrived statue that he had been hired to study.

Even though this was what his job was and he loved it and all but... those florescent lights and the continual rain and the people thinking him crazy(actually he was used to that by now) and the people getting angry at him for just bumping into them on the street and...

And there where so many different things that had him on edge lately. Dr.Smith sighed, yeah he had a doctorate and he hated it when people called him Dr.Smith. Well, he didn't mind it and all but it go annoying sometimes.

'Stop thinking about other things focus on this creepy statue alright?' He chastises himself in his mind. The thing that confused him most is that it had symbols of life and fertility but was found in perhaps the most dead place in all of the Mediterranean for at least the last thousands years or so. This dang thing was just full of mysteries and Michael Smith had been at this for days and days now.

[Terumitsu]

"The sanitiser is where it always is." Jack said with a nod toward the corner of the counter. Things like that happened enough around here... Well, that and it was importaint to have clean hands. Gotta keep the health inspectors happy. Having all manner of creatures here tended to him having to be extra thorough when he cleaned the place. And that was after the janitor ran over things. Hell, it was hard enough keeping the sinks unclogged from all the hairy things that came through here. And god help him if someone was alergic to someone else.

"Would you believe that she left cause of the hours?" he told Hubert. "Apparently it was getting in the way of her social life. Not that I could blame her. She still had a life. Well... Skin that was still on the bone at least." he said, correcting himself for clarity.

[Earl of Purple]

Mercury City; The Trombone

"Oh? How can middle of the day interfere with anybody's social life? Where she a vampire?" Hubert has another swig of his beer.

[Ponderthought]

Simon finished washing zombie remains off his hands and made a mental note to buy Benny some gloves. It couldnt be good for his instrument. He picked up his beer and slid down to where Jackson and Hubert were.

"Yeah, a vampire with a valley girl accent and a spray on tan. Im Simon by the way."

He nodded amicably to Hubert. A handshake would probably be abit of a faux pas.

[Beans]

[Curtistown]
There was a dim, dank alley.
Well, of bloody course there was a dim, dank alley. This was Curtistown.
But this alley was "special" for the time being.

There was a woman in a black suit and matching trilby there. She didn't look wealthy or notably pretty or... well... much more than slightly odd.
She didn't look so much out-of-place as it was. She looked in place, and the world around her looked like it would be better-applied elsewhere.

She stood still, mirrored lenses reflecting the passers-by who would appear to prefer that they were not passing by her.
Waiting, perhaps?
She did not look impatient... nor patient... no more patient than a signpost, or a lamp, or a coatrack could seem.
But she probably would not mind waiting.

[Terumitsu]

"She could sing pretty well, though. A few years along and I'd bet she'd be on stage if she decides to train up a bit." Jackson said, nodding and cleaning a glass. It was the default action of bartenders everywhere and for good reason. Clean glasses made the money. "Pity to see talent like that and no intent to use it." he said.

"So what's the boss asking you this time?" he asked Simon. He wasn't able to leave the bar much these days and he had always been a bit of a gossip. Well, that and he was also genuinely interested helped.

[Earl of Purple]

Mercury City; The Trombone

It would be a faux pas to shake hands with Hubert; there's engine oil and all kinds of dirt on Hubert's hands. He does wash, but not very well. "I'm Hubert. Good to meet you."

[Ponderthought]

"Ah nothing really. He's just frustrated. It's what happens when you promote a field agent to a desk job. And frankly, we havent got a damn clue as to what the deal with the rain is. We'd usually dismiss it off hand, but all of the warning flags are up for this one.

He rummaged around in his pockets for a while, finally producing a crumpled pack of American Spirit cigarettes. He lit one and took a long drag.

"Either of you heard anything about it"?

[Earl of Purple]

Mercury City; The Trombone

"All I know is, short-circuited batteries and flooded engines are common. I have to fix them all the time, and some of them I didn't break." Well, he's a gremlin mechanic. It's in his best interests to break things. Hubert then looks at his watch. "Sorry guys, I gotta go. My shift starts soon." With that, Hubert gets up and leaves, headed towards the exit and from there to his store on the border where Curtistown meets Oldtown.

[Terumitsu]

Jackson gave a good wave goodbye and told the gremlin he'd be welcome back anytime. Repeat business was the name of the game.

"Haven't been outside in a week. My contacts are dry, if you'll pardon the pun." Jack said, smoke curling out his nasal cavity. "I'll keep an ear to the ground as usual, though. Hey Roger!" he said. That last exclamation was to a changeling who had just come in. Another regular. Quiet. Kept to himself. Had a thing for Northport Iced Tea. "Well, I can say that I've got a feeling. In my bones you know." he said with a smirk. How a skeleton smirked was difficult to say. It was all in the position of the jawbone.

[Ponderthought]

"Ill forgive the pun but not the self referential humor, ugh"

Simon groaned as his phone chimed again. He flipped it open and read it's contents.

"Man, who sets up confidential meetings via text message? I feel like im in a significantly more juvenile X-Files rip off. Anyway, Ive gotta run. You know, red herrings to chase, things to recoil in terror from"

[Dorizzit]

[Newton]
Bold Mechanics

Richard Bolden was...well, bored wasn't exactly the right word. He had been busy lately; the incessant, torrential rain had caused more accidents and mechanical failures, resulting in an increase of business to his store. Moreover, the rain seemed to be making some of the more violent spiritual entities in the area even more aggressive. Richard had had three battles already this week, one of which left him a memento in the form of a deep gash on his right forearm, courtesy of a now deceased Gargoyle. So even though nothing was happening right now, Richard could not complain of boredom. It was more apprehension; what would happen next? He sighs, and replaces the sword he was sharpening in its sheath and returns it to its hiding place under his desk. He sighs, and looks out the window and the rain.

"What now?"

[Oldtown]
Museum of History

The Wolf is on the hunt. It was hardly a static spirit; it had been all over the world in pursuit of evil, from Brazil, to Japan, to Greenland, even, on one occasion, to New Zealand. Now it was here, in...Northport, it believed was the name of the city. While traveling ethereally, the Wolf had scented a powerful, malign energy taking hold of the city. It had immediately dropped out of its travel here, and began searching. The whole city was saturated in the pungent "smell." From what the Wolf had determined, the rain was the effect, and had spread the scent all over the city. It could well be, however, that more was to come.

After several days of searching, its path confused by the omnipresence of the trail, the Wolf had tracked the cause of the rain down to the museum. Now, it walked the hallways, searching for the source of the evil. It has taken the form of a large, wolf-like dog for the moment, still standing out, but far less than a fully grown, glowing wolf would. It keeps its nose low to the ground, tracking.

After some time, it comes to stand before an idol in the Mesopotamian exhibit, locked away in a case. Flaring its nostrils, the Wolf takes in a deep sniff of the air, then begins growling softly.

Found you.

[Chinatown]
Outskirts

It has been some weeks since the Yeti had arrived to Northport. It had traveled there from parts unknown, possibly except to the massive beast itself. Almost none knew of its arrival, and it had remained more or less undisturbed since it had settled in. It has taken up settlement in a large, labyrinthine cave complex in the outskirts of the city, with an out of the way, naturally hidden opening the only entrance to its lair.

When it had first arrived, a Minotaur had inhabited the caves. The Yeti had chosen its lair, however, and a short, brutal battle had broken out over it. Minotaur meat was tough and stringy, but the Yeti had eaten well that night, the tough meat no obstacle to its powerful jaws.

In the time it has spent here, the cave has changed dramatically. Affected by the freezing aura of the Yeti, the once bare rock has been covered in a heavy layer of ice and snow, and the temperature is much colder than the outside. The Yeti has suffered little from the rain; when it leaks into the cave, it freezes quickly enough.

The only ones who knew of the Yeti's presence was a small tribe of local Goblins, who had been subservient to the Minotaur before its death. The Goblins were terrified of the Yeti, and had told no one to avoid anyone invoking its wrath. The Yeti, thus far, had treated them with indifference. The offerings of meat the left at the mouth of the cave, however, had prevented it from having to leave its lair, so in a way they were successful. One such offering had just been left; a large cow carcass, likely stolen from a local butchery. The Yeti lumbers forward, grabbing the cow in one massive claw, and withdraws deeper into its lair to eat.

[Terumitsu]

"The old slog, eh? Well stay safe. Them's some mean streets out there." Jackson said with his customary goodbye. And it was true more or less. There were enough mundane dangers to fill a thick book and that was just stuff humans got into on their own. It just got crazier when the supernatural got involved. Of course, if it weren't for the supernatural, he wouldn't be standing here today. So there was probably a flipside to the coin, just that it was glued to the sidewalk by some age-old gum.

[Rebonack]

Have you ever had one of those days? You know the sort. Wake up late and realize class already started. Miss the mammology quiz. Bus to work departs on time for once, leaving you to walk in the rain. Find out that you're actually some kind of weird disguised monster from Scandinavian folklore and that the world is filled with all sorts of crazy aliens and goblins and talking skeletons.

Y'know, a day like that?

No? Not that last part?

Well let me tell you all about my day then because it's been a doozy.

[Mercury City, outside the Trombone]

"I'm really starting to hate this weather..." grumbles a bundle of green jacket and scarves and an umbrella that appears to have seen better days. A pair of icy blue eyes are rolled in the general direction of their owner's companion. "Please explain to me what we're doing at some random bar again?"

"Because of the ghosts!" comes the matter-of-fact reply. The greasy-haired young man in the black overcoat waves on hand in anticipation of the rebuttal. "I'm totally sure of it this time! See, I bought this ghost detector from a weird shop that I heard about through one of the blogs I follow. The guy is totally a well known paranormal investigator and he totally knows what he's talking about!"

The twitchy guy with the ghost radar would be Eli, my friend for better or worse. We've known each other since Jr High. Been through quite a bit. The man's obsessed with ghosts. Thinks they're the cause of all the random odd stuff that happens in this town. It's kind of creepy.

The obsession, I mean. Weird stuff always happens in any large city.

"...which still doesn't explain why we're out in the rain diving-" the despairing remark is cut off by another wave of the hand.

"I scoped this place out before. Got some real weird vibes from it. But now that I have my ghost detector I'll have all the proof I need!"

The bundle of sunshine would be me, Joshua Watt. At this point I'm not 'Awakened' yet. Which is apparently unusual given that I'm what they call a 'Fable' myself. It had something to do with my birth date and the phase of the moon and what astronomical sign the sun is in and some other crap I can't remember. Though suffice to say I'll be getting a fairly rude Awakening here pretty soon.

The two young men walk into the bar, the twitchy individual glancing about furtively as he tries his best to avoid looking too obvious as he waves his totally non-functional ghost detector about the room.

The device warbles at him all the while.

As for the blond-haired fellow, he heads straight for the bar and tries his best to appear as though he has absolutely nothing to do with his friend. "A hard lemonade would be awesome right now."

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

Jackson was leaning on the counter humming the chourus of "Sing, Sing, Sing" to himself as blue smoke seeped out his eyesockets. He'd once feared that this would scare the hell out of the 'sleepers' but apparently they just accounted this to just a cloud of smoke hanging around him. He'd found that out the hard way, though. Freaked him out. It was kinda nice though, knowing that he could still feel freaked out at least.

And then these two came in. He couldn't quite place him but the twichy one might have been here before. Eh. Buisness was buisness as long as he kept his toy to himself. It had been quiet in here for too long and it looked like Benny was raring to go at it again. With a nod, Benny began belting out a mean brass boogie. His ear holes did pick up a drink order and he began plunking down ingredients like clockwork "You gottit, sah. Onna rocks or straight up?" he asked, his accent a bit thicker than normal. He was getting vibes from the blond one. The usual sort that he got from supernaturals. "You want anything made special wit' it, sah?"

[Beans]

[Curtistown]
The black-suited woman stepped out of the alley, unfolding a black umbrella as she did.
Those who knew her called her Ms. Gettler.
Those who knew her better knew that she was an on-and-off photographer, and would politely give impromptu lectures on that subject.
Those who knew her very closely wore odd jackets with sleeves that fastened at the back and were sometimes visited by smiling nurses and solemn doctors.

[ApeofLight]

[Old Town Museum]

Michael gives a grown and shoves the pictures and books away from himself as he stands up. " Rrrgh, this is getting me nowhere! Might as well go look at the darned thing myself. " He says and picks up one of the books of the Mediterranean language of where the statue was brought from.

When he gets to the statue he sees a wolf dog there. " What in the... Security! Who let the dog in! " The professor of mythos yells out looking around for a security guard while keeping an eye on the wolf dog.

[Rebonack]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

The bartender struck me as really odd right off the bat. It was hard to put a finger on it... Looked sickly at first. His face didn't seem to move quite right when he spoke, almost like he had a stroke or something.

Later on I found out that he's a skeleton. Go figure.

"Ice would be fine... Maybe leave a slice of lemon in there?" Josh replies somewhat uncertainly. Something special with it? What's that supposed to mean? Ah well. Weird random bar. ...and what in heaven's name is that smell?

Eli, meanwhile, is absorbed in his ghost tracker.

Or more specifically absorbed in the readout that he's being provided with.

At present his gaze is set on a table occupied by a totally normal human and a zombie. Wonder what will happen next?

[Dorizzit]

[Old Town Museum]

Michael gives a grown and shoves the pictures and books away from himself as he stands up. " Rrrgh, this is getting me nowhere! Might as well go look at the darned thing myself. " He says and picks up one of the books of the Mediterranean language of where the statue was brought from.

When he gets to the statue he sees a wolf dog there. " What in the... Security! Who let the dog in! " The professor of mythos yells out looking around for a security guard while keeping an eye on the wolf dog.

[Oldtown]
Museum of History

As the Wolf prepares itself to destroy the idol before it, a human wanders into the room, a...what was it they were called? Lorefesser? Porfesser? Professor? Professor, that was it. That was no good; the Wolf could not act with an Unawakened mortal watching. It would inevitably lead to trouble, and extra trouble was the last thing the Wolf needed. It turns fully towards the professor and snarls loudly, showing its long, sharp fangs. Taking out some of its vexation, the Wolf charges Michael menacingly, but leaps fully over the human and through the door he had just come through, then sprints down the hallway. It turns a corner, and, unseen, phases through a nearby wall, cursing the presence of the interloper.

[Terry576]

[Oldtown - Streets]

There were two types of people in Oldtown; those with the demon, and those against it.

Lightning was against the demon. He hated it, loathed it, and wanted it dead. He had no way of knowing how to kill it, and no way of defeating it. But he wanted it gone.

And the rain continued, pouring over Lightning's face, covered in a shabby black coat, and a slight tear falls unnoticed down a cheek.

He turns, and walks into the shadows. For in Oldtown, the only way to survive as a human...

Is to be naught but a shade.

[Beans]

[Oldtown]
Ms. Gettler emerged from rain into rain with some rain in between.
She cared not. Her umbrella kept her comfortably dry.

She half-noticed a young man in a dark coat. She had done quite a lot of half-noticing of young men in dark coats, and cared not whether this one was different.

She wondered if she could find someone to give photography lessons to.

[ApeofLight]

[Oldtown]
Museum of History

As the Wolf prepares itself to destroy the idol before it, a human wanders into the room, a...what was it they were called? Lorefesser? Porfesser? Professor? Professor, that was it. That was no good; the Wolf could not act with an Unawakened mortal watching. It would inevitably lead to trouble, and extra trouble was the last thing the Wolf needed. It turns fully towards the professor and snarls loudly, showing its long, sharp fangs. Taking out some of its vexation, the Wolf charges Michael menacingly, but leaps fully over the human and through the door he had just come through, then sprints down the hallway. It turns a corner, and, unseen, phases through a nearby wall, cursing the presence of the interloper.

[Oldtown]
Museum of History

Holy crap! The wolf just jumped at Michael! Luckily even if Michael wasn't going to duck the wolf would have cleared him. Dr.Smith blinks in surprise. " Security! A dog just ran down that hallway! There are artifacts that are priceless in there! Go get it! " He yells at a security guard that just turned the corner.

The guard chases after it but it's completely gone by the time he goes after it. " Sorry, Dr.Smith no dog. " The studier of legend blinks. " How did it... Oh, never mind, just keep an eye out for it. " He says and turns his attention to that creepy little statue. Michael shivers a bit, that thing gives him the willies.

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

"You got it." Jackson said as he made the rather simple concoction. Really, it was just adding the ice, lemon, and tiny paper umbrella that seemed to be required with most fruit drinks. Well, them and Kahlua for some reason. "So, what'ch'yar friend doin' with that toy there?" he asked, setting the drink down before Josh. The twichy one looked like he might be trouble waiting to happen. Not that it was his fault, mind. Kid seemed a bit off, though.

As for 'that smell,' it was a combination of tobacco, zombie, gin, tonic, soda, and every cleaning agent known to humans as well as a few that were best kept in the hands of the supernatural. At best, Jackson was able to keep the smell just a wierd one rather than a bad one. It was certainly distinctive, though. As for how a skeleton could smell.. Well, if he could blow smoke rings then the question of how he could smell was a moot point. Really, some things were best left alone when dealling with the supernatural.

[Rebonack]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

What happened next was something that I would love to forget. Eli is... an interesting guy. I don't know if he's partly Awakened or certifiably nuts, but whatever the case the whole ghost business leads to some... less than socially acceptable situations. This particular incident wouldn't be the last, either.

Josh accepts the drink and tosses some wadded up bills onto the counter as payment. At first he decides to simply avoid looking at Eli. Maybe nothing crazy would happen if he didn't see it.

No such luck, of course.

"Ha! A real ghost! Are you possessing that poor person, fiendish spirit! You can't hide from my ghost detector!" the twitchy fellow proclaims triumphantly as he waves said detector at the totally normal human man whilst being oblivious to the zombie sitting next to him.

Josh buries his face in his hands, trying his best to block out the antics of his friend.

"He thinks he can see ghosts..."

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

"Uh....Huh.." was Jackson's responce as his empty eye-holes looked onward at the scene. "Listen, I'd say now would be a good time to hit your friend's off button. I don't want a floor show I didn't pay for." he said. The words themselves would have probably made an excellent threat in the mouth of some wanna-be tough-guy but all Jackson had was a little concern and a bit of worry. It wasn't for anyone's personal safety as half the patrons could be put back together with a few well-placed stitches but that things were on a bit of a hair trigger with all the supernatural beings gathering around. It had happened only once before here but causing a sudden, jarring awakening of several humans at once due to unnatural circumstances was a bad scene. He'd been visited by the suits on that occasion. Hoo boy, was that a nightmare.

"So, ghosts huh?" he muttered to himself. There wasn't really much he could do either as the twichy kid was just being loud. Now, if he tried to start something, that would be a problem.

As for the man in question, he looked at Eli rather drunkenly. The man had the graveyard shift and had only just come off his rotation. He liked this bar cause it stayed open just because of people like him. Sure some of the other people were wierd but it was an acceptable wierd. Albert, the man at his side, was usually his driver when he got tanked even. Nice people. Wierd, but nice. The Detector in his face was making him a little ill with the noises and it flying back and forth.

Albert, the zombie, decided to scoot his chair a little bit away from the 'crazy person with the toy' as that seemed the best option.

[Kenyon]

[The Airwaves]

"...and that's why the Martians took away my ability to see purple, Mr Schunke! So that the Democrats could work with the Masons to take over Idaho!"

"THAT...is a very powerful story, Alex. Very powerful. And certainly something our listeners should be careful of."

"Yeah, 'n you can find more about my incident on my website, Dubya-Dubya-Dot-Info-"

"Whoa, whoa, sorry, Alex...heheh...had to cut you off there. Sorry, buddy, you know the rules: No Advertising.

Well, now, looks like it's time for a break. We'll be right back, after a few words..."

"THIS IS THE NIGHTWATCH, WITH RICHARD SCHUNKE! HERE ON KNYN, 98.3 FM, THE EYE OF NORTHPORT!

"Good evening, this is your hourly news, I'm Jackie Trammel. Northport Police Commi-"

[KNYN Studios, Mercury City]

"...aaaand we're jingled out."

"God-DAMMIT!" Richard throws his headset on the floor. "I tell that son of a bitch every night! Quit hawking your stupid s#!@ on my f&?#ing show!"

"Sorry, Mr Schunke. He'd been twitchy on the private line all night, I should have left him there." Timothy, Richard's producer, sits meekly behind the glass, scribbling notes.

"...sees no end in sight to the current cold front..."

"Damn right you should have! God! Why do I put up with this bastion of useless rednecks?"

"Erm, because you're one of the highest paid DJs in Northport?"

"...other news, the Museum of History announced their new Meso-..."

Richard sits in his chair for a moment. "Oh. Right." A smug look washes over his face.

"So, who do you want after the break? We've got Randall on line 4, says that he saw Jesus in his cornfields again. Or we got a new guy on line 2, says that he saw a sasquatch around Northport!"

"Argh! No! Enough of these idiots!" Richard sighs, and looks at a small sheet of paper, with a picture of a scholarly-looking man and woman. "I hope they aren't this bad when the guests show up next time."

"...finally, another disappearance in the Curtistown district today, as the string of young men...

"Y'know what? F&!# this." Richard tosses the remainder of his papers into the air. "I'm gonna go get a drink.

Timothy sighs, and pulls off his glasses, rubbing his nose. "Mr. Schunke, no. Not again! We've still got an hour on the show!"

"Just use the pre-recorded stuff. These morons'll never know the difference." Before any more protests could be made, Richard was out of the studio.

Timothy remained in his seat, a look of shock and amazement on his face. "I really hate that guy." He presses a few buttons on his console, as the announcer heralds the end of the break in his baritone voice.

"And welcome back to the Nightwatch, again, I'm Richard Schunke. Don't forget, next show, we've got para-archaeologiests, Drs. Gregory and Lila Claypool coming to talk about the new exhibit here in Northport...

[Rebonack]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

"Yeah... yeah, I'll talk to him," Josh sighs as he slides off his stool, drink as yet untouched. At the moment he's feeling rather frustrated with Eli. It's been a while since his pal has made a scene like this. Not since he-

Oh geeze...

He must have skipped his medication again. Makes it harder to see the ghosts! Yeah, that's kind of the point Eli. Wonderful. Best get a lid on this before it gets worse.

Yeah... Gets worse. That's exactly what's going to happen. I really don't think this situation could have gone down the crapper any faster if a sewer troll had suddenly busted out of the john. There he is waving his ghost radar around and there I am trying to calm him down. Lot of good that does.

"Eli, just give me the stupid thing! He's just some drunk, not a poltergeist!" Josh grumbles as he makes another grab for the radar, only to be met with Eli jerking it away violently-

-into the head of Albert. Which is promptly dislodged from his decayed shoulders-

-and into the hands of Josh.

For one horrible moment there's a tense silence hanging in the air.

At this point several things were torn away.

The first was the silence.

"AAAAAHHH He's a ghost! His head came off!" it's hard to tell from his tone whether Eli is horrified or delighted by this.

The second was the blinders that had been preventing me from seeing... well... everything.

"Holy crap it's a zombie head!" which is then tossed away on account of being sticky and gross. A fairly standard reaction to discovering that you're holding a noggin with most of the cartilage rotted off among other various grotesque features.

The last thing to go was the Glamor that makes me look human. Up until recently I had no idea what the hell glamor is apart from a term used to describe movie stars. Apparently its a sort of magic that Fables use to appear human even beyond what disbelief might hide. Before that fateful day I guess I had always just done it without thinking about it. But now...

Josh's form flickers and wavers like heat rising from hot pavement on a warm summer day, a number of... features that he lacked mere moments prior suddenly asserting themselves. There's the long tail that looks equally reminiscent of a cow's and a fox's. The pair of swept back horns now poking out of his hair. The ears that look like they could have been pilfered from a deer. And of course who could forget the rather slight muzzle with a foxish nose with lines of short reddish fuzz that outlines his face.

His eyes go rather wide at this abrupt and altogether unwelcome transformation, irises swelling to completely displace his sclera.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!"

Yep.

Pretty much the worst day ever.

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

To Jack, it was like watching a slow-motion scene in an action film. As poor Albert's head flew through the air, he heard himself utter a phrase that probably summed up the entire situation rather nicely. "Well... ****." And now he had to deal with this. The skeleton man hopped the counter and did a rather excellent diving catch to save Albert's head. He quckly got to his feet and handed Albert his cranium back whereupon the zombie slammed it back on with a sickening crunch. With a wave of his hand, he grabbed the attention of the drunk and said in very even tones "It looks like you have had enough sir. You seem to be halucinating." The man was too drunk to say that booze made you halucinate and just nodded dimly. With luck, this guy will just sleep it off once Albert got him home.

Then there was the problem of the other patrons. Well, he was lucky that it was only midday and most of the naturals were still at home. The few Sleepers were being confronted by the Awakened who realised what was going on while the other denizens did their best to look away or appear more normal.

All of this was happening in seconds, of course.

Now all that was left was to get that twichy kid's friend to calm down and get the both of them out of here. He had no idea why there was screaming though. Sure, he touched a zombie head. He wasn't a natural so.... Oh hell. Had that kid been asleep too? Well that just made things worse.


Unfortunately, an unattended Sleeper got a glimpse of Josh. Then she got a good look at Jack. And then she started screaming. "Sheesh, I don't look that bad." he muttered to himself as he made to grab Josh to hustle him to the counter. "You! Geddown now!" he said sharply as he hunched low himself. He didn't need to be setting off a chain reaction here. For good measure, he hit most of the lights, leaving only the small glowing lamps on. The sudden change would take a bit of time for a human eye to adjust to and by then the other Sleepers would hopefuly be back.. Well, asleep.

The poor woman who was jarred awake, however, was beyond his controll and he could only hope that another of the Awakened could help him out here.

[Terry576]

[Mercury City: Near Trombone]

A woman walked, and whistles followed. Gapes followed as well. It was a good day for Athea, as she entered the Trombone.

She sat down at the bar area, and got wonderful free beer.

And Athea liked free stuff.

[Rebonack]

[Mercury Ciity: The Trombone]

Things are a little hectic at the moment. Free beer is unlikely unless Athea felt so inclined to pinch any that might have been forgotten by an otherwise distracted patron.

See, two people have just been rather abruptly Awakened.

In a joint that happens to cater to the livingly impaired.

Suddenly realizing that you're in a room full of zombies can be jarring to say the least.

So there I am. Standing there stupidly after realizing that my nose is sticking out further than it should when low and behold I feel some bony digets on my shoulder yank me off toward the bar. As I recall I was piecing together the facts about that time. I'm in a bar that's populated with zombies. Something weird has happened to me. And now I'm getting grabbed.

I was pretty sure someone was about to feast on my brains.

I yelped like a little girl when I got pulled behind the counter and thankfully had the presence of mind to hide as requested. I would imagine I looked positively horrified. All things considered that shouldn't come as too much of a surprise. Funny thing is Jack actually turned out to be a pretty nice guy.

"What the hell is going on?" he asks in a hissing whisper as soon as he realizes that his brains are not in fact being eaten. "Why don't you have any skin? Why the hell do I have horns?"

Then the lights went off.

"Poltergeists!" Eli shrieks. "The ghost is trying to escape! You won't get away from me this time!"

There came the sound of pounding feet as he raced after the imagined apparition.

And then came the sound of my good pal the ghost hunter crashing into a table he hadn't seen in the dark. Eli's a great guy. I love him like a brother, I really do. But he's just a little...

"Ha! You think putting a table in my way will stop the progress of science!"

...strange.

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

Athea had likey just filched someone's pitcher. It was only her good fortune that the owner of said pitcher was currently trying their best to escort a newly Awakened lady outside for some air and hopefully something stong. There was no way the suits wouldn't know of this now, though... And perhaps it was lucky that nobody noticed her in the chaos of the moment. Jackson certainly didn't see her but that was because he was hiding behind the counter.

In answer to Josh's small barrage of questions, Jack just held a finger to his... Where his lips would be and hissed. It was one of those times where one's mind was working at triple efficiency due to either adrenalin or a moment of clarity.. Likely the latter as Jackson lacked the glands that supplied the former. Jack peaked out from behind the counter just long enough to say: "Yeah that one's been buggering us for a while, kid! Chase'm out!" and then he threw his cigar holder at the door where it hit with a loud 'THUNK!' Hopefully, that would make the crazy kid think the 'ghost' was trying to go outside and leave.

"We can talk once we get things back to normal, alrigh'?" he whispered to Josh in an urgent tone.

[Rebonack]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

"Ha! I hear you thumping against that door, spirit!" Eli hollers in a louder than strictly necessary voice as he scrambles back to his feet. "You won't get away from me that easily!"

And out the door and into the street he went. Eli never bothered to tell me what happened next. To be utterly honest I don't think I really want to know. So that left me alone in a bar with some zombies, a skeleton, and some other weird stuff that I didn't really get a chance to make mental note of until after I calmed down a bit.

Oh yeah.

And this was about the point that I noticed that I had gained a tail. That went just great.

Josh's ears fold back as he focuses his attention on Jack, generally looking rather perturbed. His mood seems to have transitioned from horrified to really irritated. Which is understandable.

"What. The hell. Is going. On," Josh replies in a not so whispery though roughly as urgent tone.

[Mina Kobold]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

Just as Josh decides to finish his question something flies in trough the open door and lands right on the counter, slipping down right next to Josh and staring at him with shiny eyes as it whirs with it's insect-like wings

"Hi there. Why is everything so dark?... And wuzzy?"

Of course, if it hadn't been for the darkness, Josh would have been able to see that the pixie's eyes were human-looking and covered by aviation goggles and not huge insect eyes. But strange things can be seen in the dark, and as Josh had just found out, they weren't all in your head.

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

Well, the bar wouldn't be dark for very much longer.. So perhaps seeing a giant bug asking questions would only be a momentary thing for Josh

"Well that could have gone better. Is everyone alright?" Jack asked to the general darkness. After he heard a meadly of general assent with a certian few phrases intertwined, he flicked the lights on again and put on his best smile. "Sorry 'bout that folks! Seems like the kid hit the other lightswitch! For enduring that, your next drink is on the house!" he said to the still somewhat shaken crowd. He gave Benny the hi-sign to start playing again and the zombie launched into a jaunty tune. Sure, it might seem like all this was happening rather quickly but Jackson knew the faster he could distract his patrons, the better. No need for anyone to dwell on anything. Not at all.

He nodded to the waist high swinging door at the end of the counter. "Go take a seat on the other side. You haven't touched your drink yet so I suggest you take a good swig before I start talking. You good with that?"

To the newcomer, he replied and asked the usual question. "Just a small thing, Sah. It's all better now. Anything you would want now, Sah?"

[Creed]

Dominik was definatly not amused by the fact that it was still raining.
He walked from the Crucible and down the street, not even bothering to put up an umbrella as his dark hair became plastered to the sides of his gaunt face.
He walked until he was drenched, and when he was drenched he happened to be in the Harbor.
But Dominik did not enter the nearby warehouse he owned. The man simply stood as two men with umbrella's closed upon his location.

Smith, James, I am not happy with this rain.

Sir, we can't change the weather.
Well I want you to look into a few science labs and find out who knows how to, Dominik spat, his grimace spreading as walked off.
He's not happy, James...
And when he's not happy...
The silence between the two thugs hung in the air for a few moments.
Let's look into the university first.
The two men walked off in the opposite direction that the tall, almost skeletal figure of their boss was seen to be walking, and it never occured to them one thing.
If Dominik was so rich, why was he walking in the rain?

-----------------------

[Mercury City- Streets

Soon after, Dominik rested under an overhang in Mercury City. Across the way he spotted a bar, with warmth and dryness promised from the entrance.
But Mercury City was a world that Dominik didn't own. He was a tresspasser here, a man out of his own territory. He didn't recall any groups that bought from him nearby.
But that also meant that he was unrecognized.
Dominik stepped carefully and slowly into the flooded street.

[Rebonack]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

"...wuzzy...?" is about the extent of what Josh manages to martial in his scattered mind right now. This is all so surreal to him, what with the talking skeleton and the giant bug person.

And of course Eli still yelling about something outside.

Pedestrians are probably assuming that he's drunk. And so early in the day, too. Poor slob.

Josh looks down at his drink.

Then up at the talking skeleton.

Then over his shoulder at the zombie playing a jazzy tune.

Then down at his newly acquired tail.

And finally back to the skeleton once more.

"Am I having a nervous breakdown?"

In retrospect I think a nervous breakdown would have made a hell of a lot more sense.

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

"No, but you might later." was Jackson's reply. "'S why I had you sit down." Jack put out his cigar and made a note to go grab his case in a minute. It'd be a pity if someone stepped on it.

"Right then. Stop me if you know any of this but you know all those stories your mother told you when you were a kid? Okay, maybe not... 'S been years since then but I'm sure you know a few things about fairy tales and all that jazz? Well, turns out it just happens to be real. That's the short of it. I couldn't tell you how or why but that it just is. Same with the undead, apparently. From what I hear, fairies and people like me aren't the only ones either. Like the um... Thingies... Can't remember. Must be getting old, yeh'kno'?" Jack said with a weak attempt at humor.

[Mina Kobold]

The pixie sits down next to Josh on the right side of the counter and pull his goggles up on his forehead.
As the friendly neighbourhood skeleton tells the tale that had been told in many ways from many creatures to many whose eyes had just been awakened to the tailed newcomer he leans in and whisper

"Are you just awakened? Wow, that must be pretty psychedelic."

He looks down at the drink in front of Josh

"He does have a point about that drink, it did help the last person I met who found out his best friend was an imp"

Unseen by any being, living or dead, it seemed fortune had decided to pass by the bar as the drinks seemed just a little bit more delicious, the music a little bit better and the patrons felt it a little easier to laugh at even the worst jokes their table-mates came with, it might not reach through the near panicking fellow with the tail but it might just make him feel a little more at ease with the strange world he had been thrown into.

[Ponderthought]

Harbor District, Macy Street

Levi stalked down the sidewalk, through the pouring rain. The surge of endorphins he'd felt earlier when the target had decided to make a break for it was beginning to wear off, and his already limited patience was wearing thin.

"Come out, come out, where ever you are.."

He snarled, his smoky voice echoing down the empty archways and flooded streets. There was no way he'd find that dirty little wharf rat in this downpour, but he felt sure the little bastard was still hiding around here.

"Y'know running is only gonna make it worse on you.."

[Creed]

[Mercury City, The Trombone]

The drenched, irate looking man walked through the door, dripping wet, his hair plasteredto his face. In an almost casual manner, he sat down at the bar and quietly said in the direction of the barkeep:
I'll have some of whatever you've got.

[Rebonack]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

I remember sitting there and staring at my drink for a while, waiting for it to suddenly start screaming 'heeeelp meeee!' like that poor loser from the original 'The Fly' movie. It never did. I can be thankful about that at least.

So there was a skeleton chatting with me and this pixie with a thing for 70s slang. Zombies providing live music. I think there was one of those generic 'grey' aliens in there somewhere too.

Aside from the other various undead. The smell suddenly made sense.

"So if I go looking around under the City Park bridge I should expect to find a troll," Josh replies rather sardonically before downing his drink in one go. He grimaces a bit as it burns at the throat. "That's just great. And here I was hoping Eli's crazy had finally rubbed off on me."

[Mina Kobold]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

"I wouldn't worry about the troll, I think he moved out back in the fifties. I'll have a Brandy Alexander*, skelly-man"

Switching topic with whiplash speed, the pixie aims his last sentence at the cigar-smoking skeleton behind the counter

"It's not that bad on this side, granola. Just look around you, do they really seem that bad"

The pixie flashes his best reassuring smile and gestures at the swinging zombie and the patrons chatting the time away.

*I have very little idea what that is but it apparently contains chocolate liquor and have a funny name :smalltongue:

[Terumitsu]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

Jackson rubbed his chin as if he had a beard there to scratch. "I dunno about that. 'S a possability but I think most of them have their own property now. I think one or two are still hanging around though." he said as he began making a 'Whatever.'

Now, if someone asked for a Whatever, they were basically asking for the bartender to surprise them. Some of the more greedy ones would make a rather expensive drink for a bit of extra cash but Jack wasn't one of those. He did, however, have a mischevious streak a mile long. And the man did seem that he needed some cheering up. So, Jack mixed up a rather special gin and tonic with just a touch of stuff he normally reserved for leprechauns. They called it 'usquebaugh' and it tinted the drink a slightly golden color and gave it a fresh, green scent of a deep pine forest. The imbiber who had it straight up would feel 'Quite Lucky' yet, with no actual luck, they would often go and make a collossal fool of themselves. With just a tiny few drops, though, it did grant one a nice uplifting feeling without going overboard. However, there was a small side effect. A few minutes after drinking, the imbiber would rather suddenly find themselves with a most prodigious case of hiccoughs that could last the good part of an hour. The bonus was that there was pretty much no chance of causing any awakenings from it as it was, in fact, an alcoholic drink and there was enough belief built up around them and their effects as to render any disturbance pretty close to null.

It was pretty funny to watch too. Well, at least Jack thought so.

The Brandy Alexander was next. "Oh he moved out?" he asked as he shook the cognac, fresh cream, and chocolate liqueur mixture. "And yeah, you could be crazy and all this being in your head. I kinda doubt it though. I don't think you'd be the type who'd spend time dreaming up what I had for lunch yesterday. If anything, you probably just gained a few more friends than you'd expect. We look out for each other here. Keeps things easier."

Jack strained the shaken mixture into a martini glass and shaved just a delicate hint of nutmeg on the top before handing the pixie his drink with... Well, he didn't wink per say but one got the feeling that he just did.

[Rebonack]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

Hopefully no one will be making a fool of themselves any time soon. That would be rather awkward. Or... more awkward than things are already.

"Okay... So I'm not just imagining this. Apparently I just never noticed before," Josh mumbles, uncertain if the guy who just recently arrived is 'in' on this whole fantasy world mess. Is he supposed to keep it a secret?

Given how oblivious most seem to be would it even be possible to spill the beans?

Aside from, of course, decapitating a zombie.

Maybe he just needs-

"The ghost got away!" Eli announces rather loudly as he bursts back in through the door. "But don't worry Josh, I'll get him next time!"

[Terumitsu]

((Massive post ho!))

[Newton-Penumbra Headquarters]

"Good morning Mr. Raslavvik" said the receptionist as he strode through the door. Just as he had seen it would be and as it had always been. He gave a smile and a nod, doing the least possible thing it took to recognise him as an individual as he walked past. While the description may seem cold or cruel, it was far from it as many of those of his status would not even do that, treating their employees as tools or furniture. Things there to do a service and nothing else. Edmund Raslavvik was not that sort of person and he didn't see himself ever being like that either.

He strode into the elevator that he had seen would be empty and rode his way to the top. He was never fond of crowded spaces and he avoided them when possible. This was shown by his top floor's design with the doubly high ceiling and long, wide rooms. He had to admit that it was a bit too showy for his tastes but it served to add that tiny indimidating flair that was crucial. It was like declaring that this was his kingdom and he could behead any who angered him. Edmund chuckled at this thought as he honestly couldn't see himself having anyone beheaded. Well, physically. He could and had done worse to his competetors in a metaphorical and finiancial sense but that was buisness.

He paged his secretary for the afternoon schedule and waited. He already knew what she would say and what questions she would ask as well as how he would answer. He knew that there would be an accident at a local testing sight that would cause a small problem in the coming week with possibly two subjects leaving the safe confines of the site. A pitable occurance but a necessary one.

His secretary came in with the schedule on a clipboard and began reading off the list and he nodded in all the places he should, answering the questions he knew she would ask....

His secretary now gone, he had a few minutes before he was to tour the same local site that was to have the accident later that week. He entertained the thought of asking after their security mesures but that route simply showed more trouble than it was worth. At least this way, there would be results within a year rather than half a decade. It was difficult, having such forsight. Of course, he imagined it was more difficult having none at all.


[Mercury City-The Trombone]

"I've heard it explained that you do notice it, you just don't want to admit that it's true. It's probably always been like this. It makes more sense like that at least." Jack said. "It's like a secret that everyone is in on. We all know it's there but.... Well, I'm sure you've heard of the phrase 'Addressing the elephant in the room?' That's the best I can describe it as. You've just seen the elephant and now you're wondering where it came from. I couldn't say if the wilful ignorance is a natural thing or what, though, but I can't say I can imagine a world where it wasn't so." the skeleton man concluded. It was about all he could say on that subject. As for if Josh wanted to tell people about all the wierd stuff that went on behind their backs and infront of their faces, it was up to him. Of course, as he didn't ask for any advice in that area, Jack didn't give any.

And then that twichy friend of his came back in. Jack eyed him as best an undead with no eyes could, which was remarkably well actually, and asked Josh "Is he always like this? If I were someone else, I'da had him kicked out once he came back in here but I'm gonna give him the benefit of the doubt for now."

Jackson knew he was probably gonna have some trouble if Eli decided to make another ruckuss.


[City Park-???]

The sky was a strange hue... It was dark.. Everything felt wrong. It felt light here. Things were so light. This was strange. Where was the glow of the trees? These things here were dead. They had no soul shining out from within. And it was wet and cold. Cold was not as bad as wet. This place was strange. It was scary.

Panic was setting in. Hide. Yes, that would be good. But how to hide amidst the dead trees? The soul's light would show through, would it not? And what were those things that ran about with their bristly tails and strangely shaped heads? They only had two eyes and there was no soul to be seen in them either. Were they dead too? Yet they moved as if they were alive.. That was unnerving. Was this death? Was this where everything dead went when the soul had left the body?

That thought was worse... Hiding, that was a good idea. Take time to get away to a safe area... Find food if there was any in this dead world. Shelter and food. That came first.

The trees here were strange. Smaller than they were at home. Dead and of the wrong color. They smelled wrong, they looked wrong, they grew wrong, they were just wrong. The largest one.. That would have to do...

Everything was light.. That helped a lot. Climbing was so much easier now. One jump could possibly go over the whole thing if needed. It was still wet here. Cold and wet. Hopefully ilness woudn't follow... If the dead became ill that is. If the world of the dead was cold and wet and wrong, perhaps it was a place where one had to suffer... Illness would llikely be included in that case. To die in the world of the dead... What a strange thing to think... And yet amidst the panic and fear and strangeness, some laughter from nothing funny. How suitable.

Sitting on the upper branches was hard. They were too thin and there were places where legs could get tangled up if attention was not properly paid. The leaves here were strange, alien... And yet there were some designs just familiar enough to be uneasy to look at. Later, perhaps there would be time to feel loss. But not now. Now was time to try and survive.

......What was that?

It was like a great flicker of some grand soul. The sound of it rumbled and roared... It was similar to the Mother Soul that sang out at home and yet different. Perhaps this was the echoes of the soul of this dead world? It felt animalistic...

....And there it was again.

Closer now. Was it trying to say something? It was impossible to understand. Only the priests could know what the Mother Soul said.

...And again...

Was it angry? It was so close... Did it hate that one of the living was here in the world of the dead?

..And again..

It was just overhead now, like a being full of rage breathing upon it's prey. It was frightening how close it was... How angry it sounded...

And then everything was made of light. Fire and light and soul unified and became one, striking and consuming all. It was searing and painful like a judgement for being alive where only the dead walk. Or perhaps this was what death was? To be consumed totally by the Mother Soul and yet becoming one with it?

And then it was dark.. Hard to feel.. Hard to think.. Falling? Maybe... Didn't feel the impact yet the ground was right there.. Face up..... Cold water falling from the sky.. Cold.. Wet.. Dark.......

.....What was that? Another strange thing of the dead. Perhaps it was here to eat one of the newly dead? It was so small. And yet.. Feeling so weak.. Could only look at it. It had only two eyes... It had a protuberence on it's face that it poked around with.. Maybe to find the best meat? It was hard to think.. Sleep.. That felt like it was a good idea. Just pass into sleep...

Oh? The smaller beast was accompanied by another one.. This one had only two legs... How... Odd.....

Cold.... Wet...

Sleep...
------------

Samuel Gibbons had been out walking his dog, 'Shirley,' in the torrential rains. He always walked her at this time of day regardless of the weather. It was just something the two of them had gotten into and neither of them thought of changing it for whatever reason. An old man and an old dog were set in their ways like that.

Shirley had started growling, apparently smelling some squirrel, Samuel guessed, but she wouldn't stop even after he tried to get her to quiet down. The thunder was getting close now and that worried him a bit. He would probably have to cut the walk short if it got any worse. He swore he could feel a charge in the air a moment before a brilliant blast of lightning actually hit a particularly tall tree a few hundred feet off to his left. That shocked him rigid and Shirley chose that moment to tug particularly hard at the leash, his grip failing him in the wet weather. Off she went, barking like a loon.

He chesed after her and luckily, she hadn't been too hard to find. She was near the now shattered and blackened tree that had only moments ago been struck by lightning, alternately sniffing and growling at a.... a.... a....

Ten minutes later, Samuel was back at home with a cup of tea brewing and Shirley lying next to the radiator to stay warm. He hadn't taken the time to dry her off yet because right now he was calling the police to tell them about a 'Giant glowing spider thing' in the park.

The police wrote it off as some crazy wackjob but perhaps a certain secret agency might decide to take a poke around?

[Mina Kobold]

[Mercury City: The Trombone]

"Yup, we look out for each other through fire and water"

Sipping his drink and listening to the continuing conversation the pixie just barely manage to say something...

"Sounds abou-"

...Before Eli barges in

"...t right?"

The pixie, a normal, if small, man to the unawakened and Eli looks worriedly at Eli. He has seen lunatics blabbering about ghosts and demons before and this one didn't seem to safe to run around in a place like The Trombone.

[Ponderthought]

Old Town, Municipal Courthouse, overlooking the City Park

A tiny mechanized voice clicked on in Halcyon's helmet.

"Numerous atmospheric disturbances detected. Pressure levels within safe margins. Single electrical anomaly detected."

Hmm, an electrical anomaly? That should have been classified as a normal atmospheric disturbance. Lightning strikes were common on Earth, and the natives had no technology that would register as an anomaly on his suits sensors.

The figure standing on the roof of the Old Town Municipal Courthouse craned his head towards the area indicated by his HUD. He peered curiously. Earths light was far to dim for him to make out the scene in any detail, but the ambient energy levels indicated were preposterously high.

"Hmm..what are you?"

[Terumitsu]

[City Park-As seen through HUD]

The Hud would not only declare electrical discharge but also trace amounts of ionizing radiation. Not enough to be a danger but just enough to set a geiger counter clicking. Thermal sensors, assuming they were present, would show a being generating higher than normal human infared radiation although the recent strike and relevent distance between would possibly distort the shape into a curled up blob. Otherwise, the shape would be most relevent to an earth spider... At least at first glance. It had eight limbs at least.

It was also just laying there. Probably stunned.

Halcyon had a choice of investigating or possibly alerting friendly parties, assuming he had any. If the Exile had any specie data uploaded into his suit, then perhaps a closer look would allow for better identification. It was always worth a try.

[Ponderthought]

City Park

The Orion exile leaped into the air, arriving on the scene a short moment later. Any passerby would likely mistake him for some sort of quaint art deco sculpture, and subconsciously ignore the fact that he was hovering a few inches above the dying grass of the park.

The tiny voice crackled in his helmet

"Conducting search.....Data not found in planetary bestiary. Conclusion, subject is foreign life form."

The exile paused a moment to consider his options. Other than himself, he knew of no foreign species that had recently visited Earth. Hostile intent was unlikely, as was any truly informed first contact attempt. The subject appeared to be unconscious.

With a flick of his wrist, Halcyon sent several small probes hovering. They formed a small circle around the exile and the unconscious extraterrestrial. A small dome of energy sprang up from the probes. From the outside, passerby would only view a small tree, as the dome filtered various wavelengths of light in the area.

Halcyon sat, legs crossed. Cursory scans indicated stable vitals in the subject, so the exile simply waited.

[Creed]

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

Jackson rubbed his chin as if he had a beard there to scratch. "I dunno about that. 'S a possability but I think most of them have their own property now. I think one or two are still hanging around though." he said as he began making a 'Whatever.'

Now, if someone asked for a Whatever, they were basically asking for the bartender to surprise them. Some of the more greedy ones would make a rather expensive drink for a bit of extra cash but Jack wasn't one of those. He did, however, have a mischevious streak a mile long. And the man did seem that he needed some cheering up. So, Jack mixed up a rather special gin and tonic with just a touch of stuff he normally reserved for leprechauns. They called it 'usquebaugh' and it tinted the drink a slightly golden color and gave it a fresh, green scent of a deep pine forest. The imbiber who had it straight up would feel 'Quite Lucky' yet, with no actual luck, they would often go and make a collossal fool of themselves. With just a tiny few drops, though, it did grant one a nice uplifting feeling without going overboard. However, there was a small side effect. A few minutes after drinking, the imbiber would rather suddenly find themselves with a most prodigious case of hiccoughs that could last the good part of an hour. The bonus was that there was pretty much no chance of causing any awakenings from it as it was, in fact, an alcoholic drink and there was enough belief built up around them and their effects as to render any disturbance pretty close to null.

It was pretty funny to watch too. Well, at least Jack thought so.

The Brandy Alexander was next. "Oh he moved out?" he asked as he shook the cognac, fresh cream, and chocolate liqueur mixture. "And yeah, you could be crazy and all this being in your head. I kinda doubt it though. I don't think you'd be the type who'd spend time dreaming up what I had for lunch yesterday. If anything, you probably just gained a few more friends than you'd expect. We look out for each other here. Keeps things easier."

Jack strained the shaken mixture into a martini glass and shaved just a delicate hint of nutmeg on the top before handing the pixie his drink with... Well, he didn't wink per say but one got the feeling that he just did.

The man with the Whatever Special drinks it then gets a funny pondering look on his face, followed by a sly grin and an almost befuddled expression.
And how much'll that amount to, barkeep? he asks, fishing into his suit pocket.

[ApeofLight]

[Old Town-History Museum]

Michael flipped on the radio, maybe that would help with this whole studying of creepy artifact business. And no sooner did he turn it on did he here the dribble being spotted out on Nightwatch.

Michael sighed, at least it was almost over and that usually meant the news report. Though there was something about this airing that caught his attention.

It mentioned the Museum. The Museum he was at right now. And the artifact that he was working with right now too. And then he heard para-archaeologists. That made him face palm. It was people like that, that gave him a bad name. They where crackpots the whole lot of them! At least Michael got his doctorate degree at an actual school. In fact it was a very prestigious school. He had gone to Princeton for heavens sake!

"Oh well, crazies will be crazies and at least I'm only considered to be crazy." Michael thought but also made a mental note to try and call into Nightwatch to see if he couldn't get some actual intelligent information out there.

[Terumitsu]

[City Park]

Generally, anything that gets hit by lightning is not going to just hop up after a few moments... At least, not normally. Yes, there are those few reports where a human gets lucky and not only survives the strike but simply gets back up and walks away. This was not one of those times. The being was producing high levels of bioelectricity even while unconcious, likely this was natural process for this race, and it would go a long way in explaining both the readings and the lightning strike. However, it seemed like it would likely be a while before the thing woke up. A biological system built toward electrical manipulation was more vulnerable to such high shocks after all.

Perhaps a bit of study would be in order, then? If Halcyon had any libraries on extraterrestrial races, now would be the time to check. As for a casual glance at the being, what would grab the eyes first would be not it's vaugely spider-like shape but the the bioluminesence. Closeup scans would reveal that there were numerous little clear bristles that acted in a way similar to an LED light. The actual light produced overall was currently all over the place as it chaoticly shifted from bright to dark in patches, likely an after effect of the recent trauma, but the real grabber was the sheer range of light produced. Should the Exile expand or already have his sensors looking past the normal visible spectrum, he would see that the full range was into the lower ultraviolet range all the way to the middle infared spectrum.

Should Halcyon look around the being, he would find a few rather primitive tools. Some study would likely give a bit more information about the creature. There was a long knife forged inexpertly from bronze. There were several impurities and the metal was a little on the brittle side, showing signs of a fledgeling practice. What was curious, though, was the edge. It seemed to have been electroplated with copper. That was something to think about at least...

((Pssst. I've got a nifty entry written up if you wish for Halcyon to have this particular race in his database.))

[Mercury City-The Trombone]

Jack grinned as only a skeleton could and named a fair price. The grin was for the expression on the man's face and not the money changing hands though, just to be sure. "Just leave it on the bar. Anything else, Sah?" he asked in his usual plesant tone.

[Creed]

No, that's quite enough.
the man left a pile of crisp bills and a neat stack of change on the bar, and walked out, his suit still dripping with the flood waters outside.

[Ponderthought]

City Park


The tiny voice crackled

"Limited network access granted. Star Charts and restricted information have been redacted. Any attempts to tamper with the network will be met with extreme force."

Halcyon tapped the side of his helmet, initiating a complicated scan of the subjects biology, speaking slowly an clearly into his helmets receiver.


"Requesting life-form idetification."

The tiny voice replied "Request verified. Access granted."

"Display"

[Dorizzit]

[City Park]
Inner Area

Richard Bolden slinks forward, carefully avoiding the few people within the park. While normally his appearance would be little cause for interest, he now cuts a bizarre image, with two swords strapped to his body and a pair of medieval gauntlets around his hands. Avoiding the last passerby before his destination, he strides forward confidently, toward the area the spider was supposedly seen. Not something that would be likely to make it to the news, but Richard has...other methods. He breathes out and closes his eyes, opening his other senses, focusing the supernatural sixth sense his training had given him. Honing its power, he sweeps the area and finds...nothing. That was bizarre; no one should have been able to move it in this amount of time. He opens his eyes and looks around, eyes flying straight to the golden armored figure sitting nearby. He tenses up, but makes no immediate actions.

[Oldtown]
Streets

The Wolf is not happy. After its failed attempt to destroy the source of evil, security had tightened in the building after the idiot had reported its presence. Now, it would be impossible to successfully deal with the trouble without being seen or harming an innocent, two things that the spirit would not allow. It settles down on the ground, watching the world around it through the warped, pale filter placed over it by the Æther, which it had entered to hide and assume its natural form. It had traveled a long distance to reach this city, and was tired after the trip. Curling up, it falls into a state roughly equivalent to sleep while plotting its next move.

[Terumitsu]

((Warning! This post contains ludicrous levels of text! You have been warned!))

[City Park]

A man in a medival getup like that? In this weather? Passerbys will probably think this man is either crazy or some hard-core LARPer. To his credit, there aren't many people out at the moment.

-----

Halcyon's display would bring up a brief summery of the race in question. It seems they were one of many 'observational study' projects out to cataloug anything and everything that exists. A noble enough scientific endevor.

There was a small disclamer on the attached document. Apparently, there was a small program that converted measurments and analogs to the local dominant race's. So, due his current location, he would just have to deal with the comparison to humans and the usage of their mesurement systems. Such a shame, that.


Dwenic

Physical Description and Traits:

Often likened to arachnids, Dwenic appear to be slender humanoids with the lower body of a spider. Average height for a Dwenic is 1.7m( +-.17m) (within four inches of 5’5”); mass is 68kg(+-9.2kg) (within twenty pounds of 150lbs ) .Dwenic are rather dense and their general build is closer to that of a wiry humanoid rather than overtly muscular. Their skin is a dark grayish-blue to a grayish-indigo and quite smooth. It is also rather tough and, in some places like the fingers and around major joints, rigid to the point of becoming almost a shell. They possess eight limbs, two pairs of arms and two pairs of legs, and an internal skeleton. They have a heart and a pair of lungs as well as a digestive tract located in similar places with similar shapes when compared to those of a human and their blood is copper based, changing to a grey-green color when exposed to oxygen. Their hands resemble those of a human but with only three ‘fingers’ (Three-jointed digit) and one’ thumb’ (Two-jointed digit). The tips of their fingers are hard and pointed, being sharp enough to be used as piercing implements on softer materials but they make poor natural weapons on their own. Their shoulders are paired next to each other, the set in front slightly below those behind, giving their upper torso an appearance likeable to ‘The Vitruvian Man’ etching by Da Vinci. Like a spider’s, a Dwenic’s legs are somewhat spindly, jointed in several places in an upside-down ‘V’ shape. The Dwenic have an ‘abdominal’ area which is not as pronounced as a spider’s, however, having a highly atrophied appearance but still similarly egg shaped. Rather than house spinnerets, the abdominal area serves to hold the lower digestive system as well as provide a counter-balance and aids in centralizing a Dwenic’s center of gravity. Dwenic do not have claws at the end of their feet and so they cannot climb trees in the same way that a spider can. They do have an extraordinary leaping ability, averaging at roughly twice their own height in vertical reach and over 4.5 meters (12feet) in horizontal distance.

A Dwenic’s head is ovoid, like a human’s but slightly swept back. Their faces are featureless save for three pairs of eyes in two columns however a small mutation where their eyes vary slightly in distance apart to create an ‘X’ shape is not uncommon. Their eyes are large and almond shaped and slightly slanted to a downward diagonal toward the vertical hemispheric division of their face (That is, a line going from chin to nose to hairline on a normal human, dividing so that each side has one ear, one eye, and half a nose.) A Dwenic’s eyes have no visible iris and range in coloration from orange to creamy amber to milky blue and many colors in between. Interestingly, each pair of eyes serves to gaze at a separate section of the EM spectrum. The top pair can see into the Soft X-ray wavelength to that of the low ultraviolet range, the middle set can view the lowest ultraviolet to the lowest of the infa-red spectrum as well as what humans call the ‘visible spectrum,’ and the bottom pair of eyes can view into the low infa-red to the higher middle infa-red spectrum. Thus, their vision is much more powerful than a human’s is with a total range of roughly 29.4THz-212.5PHz. Their ears are not much more than small holes on either side of their head with some small angling of the surrounding flesh to direct sound inward. Regardless, they can hear just as well as a human. On either side of their face and just under the third pair of eyes are long, thin orifices that reach to just under their ears. Each orifice has many slits that make them resemble gills in that they can fold open or closed depending on angle. They function as a nose in which a Dwenic can both breathe and smell. In addition, they can vocalize and speak, albeit with a notable accent as their speech and respiratory organs are somewhat different. These orifices are really two parts of the same thing but bone and cartilage prevents them from joining at the center of a Dwenic’s face. The same structure serves to make a small ridge down the vertical hemispheric division of their face. Hidden underneath and slightly behind a Dwenic’s chin is a tightly curled prehensile proboscis that can extend up to a foot to a foot and a quarter in length. It can spread open to be up to half an inch wide and the inside has dozens of very tiny teeth like those of a lamprey. These are mainly used for latching on to their food but can also be used to shred particularly chunky morsels into a more liquid state for better consumption. Dwenic are omnivorous but have a distinct preference to fruit and vegetation rather than meat.

Dwenic have amazing bioelectric capabilities with the most striking and common use of them being their most interesting visual aspect. A Dwenic has very small, very thin hairs like that of ‘peach fuzz’ (Also including texture… Ignoring the slight ‘static electricy’ feel) covering most of their body with several dense concentrations forming symmetrical patterns on their face and form giving each a distinct visual appearance. These hairs are clear but the cells underneath them are photoelectric and can generate only a small amount of light but a very wide range of color (into the High-UV and lower Infa-red spectrums). In concentration, this makes a Dwenic a shimmering being of color and dim light (Roughly that of a few bright candles over all. Not good for lighting an area but makes for being easily spotted in the dark.) Common designs of the dense concentrations are zigzagging trails of circular spots starting at the face and growing larger down the back and thin stripes originating at the corners of the eyes to spread out to the rest of the body. In addition to this, a Dwenic can also ‘sense’ ambient electrical discharges, possibly even detecting large firings of neurons if they are in contact with the being in question. However, large scale discharges, such as lightning, is akin to looking at the sun for a human in which it temporarily dulls this sense for a short time. The maximum range of this sense depends on the power behind the discharge but their terminal limit (The limit in which a sense can only just detect something) is roughly the electricity it takes to power a LED light bulb at about 3 meters (10 feet) assuming there are no barriers in place. In addition to sensing discharges, the Dwenic can also create them on a small scale. These ‘micro-sparks’ often fill the air around them with the smell of ozone but give only the smallest static shock when touched, at least normally. A Dwenic can generate a large electrical discharge transferrable on contact that can be lethal to small animals and harmful to humans. This is quite draining to a Dwenic, however, and leaves them heavily fatigued after only one or two discharges. It is thought that this ability was originally a panic reflex when hunted by predators, giving them a nasty shock when struck or bitten. These abilities of the Dwenic race are highly utilized in their language, allowing massive levels of information to be traded back and forth in a short time with the combination of sound, light, and discharge.
It should also be noted that due to a Dwenic’s ability to manipulate their personal bio-electric field, they are also able to grant themselves short but powerful bursts of speed and strength. However, this is draining to them as well and cannot be held up for more than a minute on average. Continued use of these abilities can quickly exhaust a Dwenic if they are not careful.
Also, Dwenic are amazingly resistant to radiation and radioactive materials and suffer detrimental effects only in extremely high quantities. This resistance is quite beneficial as the upper limits of a Dwenic’s vision are in the range of ionizing radiation. Most of this can be attributed to the dark skin a Dwenic has absorbing and dispersing the energy but other minor physical factors, such as specialized enzymes to dense organ tissue, help amplify this effect. However, it seems that Dwenic produce some small level of harmful radiation themselves and it is unknown if this is a natural occurrence or if it is their body removing radiation and expelling it. The level of radiation produced/expelled is small enough for a human to be in friendly contact with a Dwenic or a small group of Dwenic for the upper reaches of a month before detecting any of the first signs of radiation sickness. Close contact or friendly contact with a large group of Dwenic (Such as a city) can reduce this time down to a week. The minimum time that this can be reduced to would be roughly two to three days if a human and several Dwenic were placed together in a small area and the situation was standing room only. As such, there is only a minor danger when dealing with an individual Dwenic on a casual basis.

The Dwenic are hermaphroditic specie with internally concealed sexual organs. Because there is no true gender, there is a distinct lack of sexual dimorphism and thus the variation in size is due to genetics and diet. Depending on the time of season, one or both parents may lay one darkly colored, soft shelled egg (Highly occasionally, one parent will lay two eggs), and hatch after a period of three months of incubation. Hatchlings are able to consume whatever is presented them but they are usually fed a liquid diet for the first year. Dwenic reach sexual maturity in a time analogous with about eighteen to twenty earth years and the average life span of a Dwenic is a period of roughly eighty-five to ninety years.

A Dwenic’s regenerative capabilities are somewhat accelerated in comparison to a human’s and heal roughly 22% faster. Again, this can be attributed with the high level of energy contained within them. Because of all this, a Dwenic’s caloric intake is quite a bit higher than a human’s in addition to requiring more magnesium and potassium although they do benefit with a more efficient metabolism. Dwenic are exothermic beings with a regulated body temperature.

Psychology and Sociology:

As alien physiologies, natural surroundings and influences differ from humans, so do their psychologies. As such, they often have concepts or ideas that are difficult to describe with clarity. However, this does not mean there are no similarities. As all living things have the same basic drives (More or less), both humanoid and alien can find common ground and branch out from there. Like other living beings, Dwenic have drives to find sustenance, shelter, and propagate. As a generally, they are more opt to flee than fight should the issue come up as they are often hunted by the larger predators of their world. The reason why some predators still go after Dwenic even though they can suffer such a high chance of debilitation from electrical burns is that they are particularly nourishing and ‘tasty’ as the physiological makeup that grants the Dwenic those abilities also means that they would have a lot of energy to transfer should they be consumed. As such, Dwenic make excellent hit-and-run attacks and are very well suited to guerrilla warfare.

Dwenic have a ‘competitive’ society, like humans (A cooperative society would be similar to termites or ants), but they are more often focused on not being eaten or slain by natural causes and so are not primarily exposed to social infighting. However, there are heavy communal influences that bring Dwenic together and organize their society. Also, they are highly aware of the fact that organization leads to higher chances of survival and thus are often found in a nomadic tribal grouping. Occasionally, tribes band together or a large tribe settles an area to make a permanent dwelling. These cities are almost always fortified in some way and are always located in a resource-rich area. They show signs of the beginning of industry with the implementation of melting soft metals to form weapons and jewelry as well as trading stations. Many nomadic tribes have a route which takes them near or even right through these outposts as it is mutually beneficial for both sides. That is to say, the nomads bring in raw materials and skins to trade for medicine, weapons, and blankets.

It should be noted that Dwenic have no concept of ‘nakedness’ and do not have much in the way of garments or clothing aside from those that are purely decorative. This may be due to the fact that they have internal sexual organs rather than external as a human would and thus have no reason to protect what isn’t there. Perhaps the only things they manufacture that do resemble clothing are cloaks that cover the body for warmth as well as carved wood and toughened hides for armor when hunting. They are quite adept at creating leather shields from bone, wood, and leather.

Although Dwenic can communicate with electrical discharge, trading complex ideas at a distance requires higher voltages and can become tiring after some time. Because of this, Dwenic have a touch language to facilitate communication. The actual gestures of this ‘language’ are little more than general concepts or themes rather than specific ideas and serve to color ideas emotionally or thematically. This also has the byproduct of Dwenic having a much smaller area of personal space than humans and they would likely view humans as ‘aloof’ and ‘distant’ because of this.

A Dwenic’s idea of beauty would be something vibrantly and complexly colored or highly reflective. Thus, dyes and metals are highly prized with silver, copper, and gold being the most valuable metals. The reason why those three metals are so highly prized is because they are also the most electrically conductive among the high luster metals. As for physical appearance, the same ideas carry over so that a Dwenic who is able to produce highly complex light patterns and/or has smoothly reflective skin would be considered ideal. Scented oils that improve the luster of the skin are sought after because of this latter trait and they hold a place similar to what humans would recognize as make-up. Preferences on physical build seem to vary with the individual with some desiring those with a muscular stature while others finding pleasure in litheness. There are hundreds of other variables but only the most prominent have been noted.

Mating between Dwenic is often to consummate emotional attraction although there can be other pressures depending upon family or political standing. The actual act is pleasurable and it is not uncommon for newly mature individuals to seek out secluded areas with those whom they were close to during their childhood. Dwenic are fertile during specific times of each ‘season’, usually when one season changes to another but there are some who are fertile during the middle of each ‘season.’ Either way, when such a union results in a child, the parent are considered to be ‘bonded’ and are expected to act as a unit until the offspring is mature or dies by sickness, predators, or mishap. Most parents choose to have several children to further the chances that one will survive and their ‘bonding’ lasts until the last child either matures or dies. As bonding is a cultural topic, it will be spoken of in more depth later when it is relevant.

It should be noted that the preceding is only a general list and holds true only in the sense that they are the most commonly noted actions and behaviors. Variations, omissions, or additions may be present depending on the subgroup and the current cultural influences as well as upon the individual as well.

Culture:

As there is no single, global culture among humans, it is difficult to summarize them in any brevity. The same is with Dwenic culture. However, like human culture, there are some analogs or archetypes that are common enough to at least grant a general idea. The following list contains some of the most common influences.

Bonding:

Bonding is the closest analog to a human marriage that Dwenic have. However, that comparison is still inept at describing what a bond is. Two Dwenic are considered to be in a Bond as long as they have a surviving juvenile. Unlike a human marriage, one Dwenic may be bonded with any number of others but the usual accepted limits are between two to three bonds at one time. More than that is not looked down upon but can become very stressful upon such an individual. A bond at its most basic is an agreement between individuals to act in what is the best interest of the unit. In application, a bond is usually a sign of deep emotional attraction and/or dedication toward another individual and many bonds can trace their beginnings from childhood relationships. A Dwenic is beholden only to their family and the families of those they are immediately bonded with; otherwise, the interconnections between each individual would quite possibly stretch to encompass almost every Dwenic within a single city or tribe. Regardless, this leads to large family units and thus many views on how a unit should act. Because of this, a family will commune and elect an individual or small group of individuals to be the ‘Major.’ A Major is the individual who determines specific goals and actions taken by the unit. In this way, a Major is not unlike a family head in human society. However, a Major only holds the title for a predetermined amount of time, usually only a few seasons up to a year. This is less a political action than it is playing upon the different strengths of each Dwenic. An example of this would be a veteran hunter elected as Major for the duration of a season, therefore providing their gathered experience and abilities to better direct the unit for greater success on a certain season of prey.

While it may seem that complications can arise between Majors due to the interconnected natures of Dwenic families, in application, Majors only hold sway over those who were involved in electing them. That is to say, all who were involved in the process including those opposed during election are to rally under that Major. While this can mean that some families will be divided, this separation is temporary and it brings no great sorrow or worry to an individual as they can later alter which group of relations they choose to elect a Major for. Parents decide between them where and with whom the children of these separated families reside with during the time apart.

Education:

Teaching the younger generations is left up to the family and the most often used form of teaching is oral tradition (At least the same idea as oral tradition such as passing down knowledge by ways of verse and repetition). As Dwenic are only just showing the beginnings of a written language, it will be some time yet before the spoken, illuminated, and discharged word is transcribed with any more accuracy than general concepts. As of right now, they have a crude system of variable pictographs that are used to denote ideas such as if such a place is one where a nomadic tribe can trade or if a specific item is sought. Important places and things are given more detail than just a simple outpost or mundane item.
The use of oral tradition aids in teaching the younger generation the language and even hatchlings are cooed the old stories and legends passed down to sooth them into sleep.

Cuisine:

It is actually very rare for a Dwenic to cook meat as that robs it of its natural moisture and makes it harder to consume with a proboscis. As such, most meat is eaten raw and fruit is usually pulped into a thick liquid. However, Dwenic do have a form of cooking that can be described with almost no loss of information in translation by the words ‘tea making.’ Vegetation is picked and laid out to dry and then store in clay pots. In its making, it is ground up and stewed in a covered pot of hot water for several hours and then scooped out with a ladle into bowls from which a Dwenic will drink both the liquid and consume the dregs. This practice is often saved for the months in which food is scarce as the nutrients within the vegetation are transferred with very little loss from the storing process.

Dwenic also have a process in which they ferment the fruit liquid by aging it in hollowed out tree trunks and covered with a wooden top. A bit of ‘skimming’ from a previous batch is poured inside as the thought goes that doing so will cause the new batch to taste the same as the old. What this really does is transfer the bacteria responsible for fermentation over and start the process anew. The drink is left for two to four years after which it is opened and ‘skimmed’ or rather, the unpleasant skin left by bacteria is removed and the entire substance is put into a large wooden basin with a thin but tightly woven cloth covering the entire bottom rests. After the fermented liquid is removed, the tree trunk’s interior is scraped down to clean it and prepare it for another batch. As for the basin, the cloth is carefully lifted to strain out all the leftover pulp and to leave behind a very smooth, alcoholic drink. The pulp is not wasted either and they are dried for a short time before being rolled up into small, soft, moist, finger-sized balls which are then rolled in a light brown powder made by crushing the crystallized dried juice remains of a plant that resembles sugarcane. The resulting ‘sugared’ orb is then served as a candy or occasionally as trail rations.

Legends:

There are many legends of how the Dwenic came to be and each creation myth that is passed down is different. There are legendary exploits and heroic battles and plenty of gods to go around as each set of tales slowly mutates with each telling with some figures melding into one or others being forgotten entirely. As such, normal for how legends go. However, there are two legends that are more or less universal.

The first would be of the Great Migration. Abridged, this tale declares that the Dwenic were once visited by what most story-tellers call the Star Children although some variations call them the [Souls] Of the Stars. These beings came wearing magnificent cloaks that changed color with each step they took and shimmered more brightly in the light than the most well polished metal. Each of them standing not less than [3m (9 feet)] in height and speaking in a slow, calm [voice]. They said they had been watching over the Dwenic for some time and that a great storm was upon them, one where the earth would swell like the crests of waves and the suns would spray fire across the land. Hearing this, the Dwenic were afraid and would have panicked if not for the strange, calming presence that the Star Children had. The Star Children urged for the Dwenic to follow them as they had great ships that could sail the sea of the sky where they would be unharmed during this calamity. Many Dwenic followed but some stayed behind, fearing the Star Children were here to take them away from their homes and to never return. Those Dwenic who heeded the Star Children were instantly amazed upon these great ships as they and everything in them possessed a [Soul] and glimmered like the cloaks of the Star Children. Some were afraid that, because of this, the great ships were actually massive beasts here to gobble up every last one of their people but the Star Children said that they were no such thing, that the great ships were beings created by the Star Children to better sail across the sky and that they would give their lives to ensure that those contained within were safe if necessary. The Star Children showed the Dwenic that if they so chose, they could watch the calamity unfold by looking through the eyes of the great ships and many did, watching as the earth rolled and cracked and crumbed as the Great Blue Sun spewed forth fire across the world, leaving a brilliant rainbow where it struck. For a season, the Dwenic stayed with the Star Children before their benefactors declared that the calamity was over. After they returned the Dwenic back to their small, round, island world (for, that was how it appeared to be up in the sea of the sky), some Dwenic pleaded to be allowed to sail in the great ships with the Star Children across the sea of the sky. The Star Children declared that they would permit those who wished to come but only after a time of two years had passed so that the Dwenic would have better time to consider it. After that time had passed, the Star Children returned once more and gathered the Dwenic who truly wished to sail with them. They declared that the number assembled was more than enough and that they would be glad to take them across the sky. And upon a trail of light, the great ships sailed once across the sky where all could see before disappearing to unknown waters. The Star Children did leave behind a message, though. They would return if again such a calamity arose to carry them once more across the sea of the sky.

The second legend is quite a bit more fragmented yet the common themes are still easily detected. It is unclear as to who the individual was although the most common telling say that they were an unmatched healer of almost obsessive dedication to their art. It is said that they were the first and greatest of the ‘Lightcallers,’ beings who had divine power from a close connection to the Mothersoul. It was said that they could call down cleansing light upon the evil and unjust from the skies and existed to do the will of the Mothersoul itself. There are many varied tales about this individual with some depicting them as an almost messianic figure while others as an enlightened mortal. It is highly possible that the stories were actually about several different individuals where upon only one or two were true lightcallers but time and retellings have melded them into one being known officially as The Nameless One in the stories. It should be noted that The Nameless One, or one of their component parts should the being be an agglomeration, is a key figure in religion as one who ushers the souls of the departed up into the waiting arms of the Mothersoul. Religion as a whole is discussed below.

Religion:

There is one widely recognized deity across the whole of Dwenic culture known as the Mothersoul. It is said that it is the soul of the world and it gave birth to all that grows, walks, and flies. It should be noted here that the Dwenic see their ability to sense electricity as well as create electrical discharges as proof of their souls, being that such things are in the realms of the felt yet unseen. At times, a Dwenic will claim that they can faintly sense the Mothersoul speaking and the presence is a comforting one rather than oppressive.

As the majority of organisms upon their world have similar bioelectric properties, and thus the Dwenic feel they have souls, most actions have some sort of ritual to them if it would result in the death of said organism and as a whole Dwenic religion is notably similar to animism. Lightcallers hold a special place within the hierarchy as messengers of the Mothersoul and The Nameless One themselves holds the station of psychopomp. As such, most Dwenic are quite spiritual and even the most cynical will still perform the important rituals when harvesting or hunting.
There are no set holidays for the Dwenic although there is a seasonal celebration dedicated to the newly born that is common across most of Dwenic culture. Many of these celebrations are held at the end of the season so as to take advantage of that season’s harvest and hunts.

Military:

Culturally, Dwenic warriors are citizen-soldiers and usually are hunters or gatherers rather than those with a manufacturing trade. This is accepted as the normal way of things as the hunters and gatherers are more experienced with the untamed areas of the world and are better trained in the use of weapons due to their trade. There are a very few Dwenic whom serve as soldiers as a trade and they are the coordinators of any offensive or defensive action. Because of the training from their respective trades, Dwenic hunters and gatherers are very well suited to guerilla warfare seeing that the same skills can be applied to either profession.
War is normally conducted between harvests as that time is usually spent on production of food and goods. However, there have been a few occasions where an offensive on one side attacks during the harvest in small numbers to disrupt and debilitate their opposition’s ability to fight later on due to the lack of food. This is seen as a risky tactic as a failed attempt can instead have a detrimental effect upon the attacker as they do not have the ability to produce as much as they could otherwise

Government:

Due to the vast number of individuals, government of cities is a diverse subject. However, the most common way of governing is done by way of representative democracy. This is hardly surprising as, to the Dwenic; this is simply an extension of the concept of a Major. All citizens are required to cast their vote and each election doubles as a census count. A High Major, as the elect is called, governs for a set time, usually one to two years depending upon the city, and is second in power only to the Representative which is a collection of Majors within the city. The division of powers has much overlap but it is seen that the Representative is usually in charge of the upkeep of the city whereas a High Major manages laws and edicts as well as relations with other neighboring cities.

Planetary and Environmental Statistics:

The Dwenic name for their world can be roughly translated to ‘Earth’ or ground ranking them in the 95.342% of beings that name their home planet with the same or similar meaning.

The Dwenic homeworld orbits around a binary star pair of one OB–Class star and one G–Class star at a considerable distance.

Age: 4.43 Gyr (4.43 billion years)

Mass: 7.944888Yg (7.944888*10^24kg)

Size: 1.4406693Tm ^3(1.4406693*10^12 km^3)

Gravity: 1.3Gs

Core: Iron

Rotation time: 27.673 hours.

Orbit time: 3.452 years. (It should be noted that all mention of years aside from this entry and the entry describing lifespan is instead describing local years rather than terrestrial.) The speed at which the Dwenic homeworld orbits the binary pair is enormous considering the distance it is from the star pair.

Atmosphere: 77% nitrogen and 22% oxygen, with trace amounts of water vapor, carbon dioxide and other gaseous molecules.

Climate: Storms and electrical activity are common with several large cells sweeping across each hemisphere at any given time. On the ground, the sky is usually cloudy with faint auroras appearing during especially powerful storms. When the sky is clear, it is often a deep blue color with hints of indigo near the horizons.

It is hypothesized that the Dwenic homeworld had a moon at one time due to geological evidence but it was likely pulled out of orbit by the binary star.

Notes and Addendum:

Due to the nature of translation, the word Mothersoul is actually a best-fit term rather than a true translation. As Dwenic do not have concepts of male and female, the terms Mother and Father mean nothing to them. The word ‘Parent’ would be a better direct translation for those terms.
The Legend of the Migration is obviously a historic event wrapped within folklore. The description of such seems to point to a sudden reversal of the planetary magnetosphere. As for the rescuing race, sources point to the Ai’toly preservation group ‘Grand Mercy.’ The organization is dedicated towards the protection of undeveloped intelligent races from cosmic and extinction level environmental hazards. This would explain the small but growing community of Dwenic within galactic society as the legend does tell of a selection of Dwenic moving with their benefactors. Likely, the declaration of ‘there being enough’ was to ensure genetic diversity.

These ‘Migrant’ Dwenic have a few minor physical differences as follows:

Skin is a lighter indigo rather than dark.

Smaller levels of radiation produced.

Bioluminescent patterns have a tendency to be thinner but have slight ‘flourishes’ such as small waves or curling designs.

Vertical height averages roughly 22% more and lifespan is increased by roughly 13%

A Dwenic's native tongue is often likened to clicking, purring, and trills. In addition, due to a combination of both physiology and ingrained language patterns, they seem to have an inability to pronounce the 'S' sound (as in 'soon' or 'sight'), substituting it with the 'X' sound (as in examine or xylophone).

Also, colloquially, Dwenic will often be ascribed the feminine pronoun when describing them if the language does not have a gender neutral pronoun.


Also included were a few modules that could serve as a slightly rough translation aid should the need arise.

It seemed, from that mess of information, that the Dwenic here was of average build and apparently not one of the Migrants. This left a question of, 'how the heck did they get here?'

Apparently not as stunned as first expected, the extraterrestrial opened their upper eyes to show the color of a dark mead as they looked somewhat drunkenly around.

[Ponderthought]

City Park

The exile pondered the various courses of action he could take. He could simply leave this unfortunate creature to it's fate. It would be fitting given Earths.. how did the humans say it? Law of the Jungle. But his personal honor simply would not allow him to leave a guest to his adopted planet to the proverbial wolves.

Communication would be a problem. It had been difficult enough mastering one of the human languages to the degree he could make himself understood. Mental communication was out of the question, as he had found alien minds far too different from his own to truly communicate. For the moment, he downloaded the Dwenic system of pictographs to his suits computer. He scrawled a simple sentence in the dirt in front of the reeling alien, consisting of the pictographs for "safe" and "wait"

His helmet alerted him to Richards presence, and he slowly turned his head to regard the strangely equipped human. There was a possibility that the human was simply looking past the pair of aliens, the light distortion field being what it was. But he seemed far to attentive for the exiles liking.

[Terumitsu]

[City Park]

Am I dead? What is going on? It hurts to move... What is that? Those signs on the ground are...? It is safe here? Why is that? What is this thing before me? It is made of gold yet it moves. Why is.... Wait.. What is this I feel? Is this gold thing... Alive?


After several long minutes, the Dwenic was apparently awake enough to move around, albet weakly. It noticed the inscriptions on the ground and peered curiously at them for a moment before looking at the exile. Their bioluminecent folicals had apparently come back under the extraterrestrial's control as they were now glowing a faint veridan with the occasional hint of indigo. Actually watching this display of light and color had an effect seeming like the rolling waves of a calm ocean, ever changing and shifting yet keeping thematically the same. If Halcyon had downloaded more than just the pictograph dictionary, then he might be able to tell this was an indication of cautious curiosity with a few flecks of confusion and more than just a little fear. It was likely not unexpected though, given the creature's plight.

[Ponderthought]

City Park

Halcyon paused, paying close attention to the creatures photoelectric display. Curiosity and fear. Understandable, he had felt much the same when he arrived on Earth. And he had been prepared. He leaned forward to scratch more pictographs in the dirt, moving slowly to avoid alarming the creature. The series roughly translated to "Welcome to (Earth). You will need shelter. I have shelter. Do you understand?" The exile ran into a curious problem with trying to explain the name of the planet in pictographs. The Dwenic symbol for earth referred to their own planet, like most cultures. In the end, he simply devised a new pictograph that resembled a globe. He circled it and spoke in English.

"Earth"

Then he simply waited, trying to appear as non threatening as an alien in a heavily armed powersuit could appear.

[Terumitsu]

[City Park]

The golden being before me etches something slowly in the ground before me. More signs. It is hard and painful but I get to my feet so I may read them better. There is one I have not seen though, perhaps it is from another clan? It tells me that I can find respite with it with the etchings. I wonder why it does not talk to me though. Perhaps it cannot? It then points to the new sign and says something I do not understand. This is perplexing. Perhaps it is only partially mute? I see nor feel no feeling or fluctuation of it's soul. Just the sounds and no feeling. To speak so flatly... It is unnerving. I look again at the pictographs. It says welcome but not the place. Perhaps this word stated is what the name of this new sign is? But how do I know the true meaning when spoken with such flatness? I cannot understand now. It says that it knows where I may be safe. That is enough for now. It asks if I can understand and I reply that I do. For good measure, I sign back that I understand in case that this being in gold is unable to listen.

In all seriousness, the Dwenic would have likely been slightly cowed by the appearence of Halcyon if it had not already been in a state of mild shock and quite confused already. A very rapid series of low discharges in conjunction with a few hues of violet and something that sounds like '!Xacti' as it traces a sign representing knowing in the wet muddy soil with two pointed fingers. It then knelt down, with some apparent difficulty, to pick up the few items it had brought with it. No point in leaving useful things behind, apparently.

[Ponderthought]

City Park

Halcyon nodded. He scratched one last sting of pictographs into the dirt, and stood. The line read simply "Hold my arm tightly. We fly" This would likely be an alarming statement, but the exile had little other choice of transportation. He grasped his newfound companion and leaped into the air, gliding smoothly towards the aliens current safehouse in the sealed attic of a nearby building. When they arrived, he set the no-doubt terrified alien down gently, and picked up an old notebook and pen to facilitate further conversation. He scrawled out a lengthy note, explaining as best he could in the Dwenics pictographs that he could not truly speak their language, the basics regarding the planet they were currently on. He offered condolences if this seemed a bewildering. He passed the note to the alien, and turned his attention to one of the large pieces of technology in the room, attempting to set up the basics of a translation program.

[Terumitsu]

[City Park -> Elsewhere]

I read this new set of signs and... Wait. What does it mea-!!!

If the exile had not been wearing armor, then there would be sixteen sharp fingers gripping tight enough to draw blood. Ultraviolet was the dominating bioluminecence indicating surprise and panic. For a moment, the Dwenic attempted to wrench away from Halcyon but, noticing the distance above the ground, stopped and clung tightly instead.

Upon landing, the extraterrestrial shuffled away in a limping walk to just to put some space between it and the exile. Ultraviolet had become a less prominent emenation, giving way to middle-infared. This was more of a biologial feeling than an emotional one, indicating fatigue. It was strange to see, however, the far ends of the Dwenic's bioluminecent spectrum being displayed simultaniously.

It took some time before the Dwenic came close enough to read the note and even then it was only done with a passing glance. It had taken note of the utensil used to make the markings and gently flipped over to a new page. It held the pen like a paintbrush and sketched a single small yet clear symbol, one signifying 'Rest.' Replacing the pen, it slowly pushed the notepad toward Halcyon and backed away, folding both pairs of arms behind it's back as it lumineced dim reds and low-infared with some few flecks of mauve here and there. It's amber eyes were mostly closed as it stole a glance here and there at the exile's domicile.

I... Cannot say what it is that has just transpired.. I cannot think clearly, too much has gone on. What was that light and what is this golden being that has carried me here? Too many questions... And this place. Overwhelming. And I am not sure what to think about the many objects around here. They do not look alive but... It is just too much...

[Mina Kobold]

[Outskirts of Northport, the location of a particularly odd and occult piece of art]

Here, far from the more active parts of the city, stand a dolmen. Moved here from some obscure part of Northern Europe by an eccentric millionaire as a publicity stunt in a time that few humans remember. All but forgotten by even those who was around when it was raised in the empty plaza in what was supposed to be the location of a new mall.

It is also where a burning object that is falling through the sky is headed, being wished upon by children believing it to be a falling star and glimpsed over by busy workers and businessmen hurrying through the rain.

With an explosion that rips the earth and stone beneath the place free from its bonds and throw it several stories into the air, illuminated by the explosion itself it lands.

From the smoldering hole something walk through the smoke, its silhouette bringing images of vikings and Celts at war to mind.

[Ponderthought]

Traveling down I-45, outskirts of Northport

" A meteor? That's never good. So where exactly did it hit?"

"Aw, man, really? That old rock Ezekiel Price moved out here? My dad used to take me to see it when I was a kid, before.."

"Yeah, I know. Still, I always expected that thing to attract a monster cult or something, rather than being obliterated by a meteor. Alright, I"m almost there, Ill call you with a report if I find anything spooky."

Simon tossed his cellphone into the passenger seat as he turned into the lot that formerly hosted the dolmen. It was pouring, but fire still clung to the crater in places. He grabbed his umbrella from the backseat, and stepped out, struggling to open the contrary contraption.

[IcemanJRC]

[Outskirts of Northport, New crater]

Quietly a form waits in the brush, it's brilliant eyes a sulfuric yellow, as it stares out at the newly made crater. As the silhouette emerges from the smoldering earth, then quiet form shifts, it's vaguely humanoid shape moving to a four legged form, with muscled limbs and a long, snout like face. The form familiar to most people, a horse now, treads deliberately across the rock strewn ground and flares it's nostrils, and neighs warily. It's long mane wiping lightly in the breeze and it's hooves crunching on the ground. It neighs once more and swishes its head from side to side, it's eyes twinkling with anticipation.

[Mina Kobold]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

The silhouette solidifies as the rain begin to wash the smoke away and it does indeed look like a viking had just dropped into the present in the most spectacular way possible.

He looks surprised as he sees the horse and begin talking in a language that might junior even the older residents of Northport*.

(Translation in case the horse understand him)
"Is that a horse? A real horse? Am I back in Midgard?!"

Suddenly the big, helmed, armed warrior laughs and with a clear tone of relief and joy begins to talk at the sky.

(More Translation)
"Thank you Odin! Thank you Thor!

Finally, home..."

*AKA Old Norse :smalltongue:

[IcemanJRC]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

The horse gives a whine, akin to a laugh, and snorts again.

You are not in Midgard my friend.

The horse says to him, shaking its head and neighing. It walks closer and sniffs the viking.

I'm sorry that you're not where you had hoped to be.

[Mina Kobold]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

The viking looks at the horse with a puzzled look

"Is this not Midgard, land of men? Then what is it then? Alfaheim? Asgard?!"

He leans on his sword, a large one at that, and ponders

"You don't look much like a giant's horse, are you a elven horse+ or perhaps an Aesir in disguise?"

[IcemanJRC]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]
The horse chuckles and walks behind the man, coming from the other side he appears as a mirror of the man himself,
I'll let you try and figure that out...
He then leans on his sword as well.

[Ponderthought]

Outskirts of Northport, crater.

Simon Lo was confused. But then again, in his line of work, this wasn't terribly uncommon. He sighed, adjusted his holsters, opened his umbrella, an strode towards what appeared to be a viking and his shapeshifting horse twin.

"Um, hello. I don't suppose either of you speak anything close to English? Because it might be a real problem if not..

He paused at the edge of the crater. He'd much rather stay out of reach of that rather large blade. he was pretty sure the Company's insurance didnt cover aggressive disembowelment.

An abandoned building in Old Town

Halcyon had made a remarkable amount of progress in developing a translation program. In fact he was rather proud of it. If The exile had a vice, it was perhaps taking too much joy in his own cleverness. He went in search of his new extraterrestrial companion, to check on how it was settling in, and test the program.

"Greetings, traveler. Can you understand me?"

The attempt was rather crude, like a macaw attempting the queens English, but relatively clear.

[IcemanJRC]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

The shapeshifter nods, shifting into a mirror of Simon,

I do.

He stares at the new arrival, his eyes a sparkling yellow. His face thoughtful as ideas run through his head.

Why are you here?

He blinks and switches his gaze between the viking and agent.

[Mina Kobold]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

The viking looks confusedly at the copy of himself as the strange man approaches and speaks, not managing a reply before the shapeshifter yet again changes form and talks to the man. A weak noise might be audible to the two speakers, almost like a tiny voice talking.

"By Odin's right eye! I can speak the language of the English"

The vikings say with a booming voice.

"Can one of you Christ-men tell me what in Loki's name is going on!"

He looks at the two with a look that clearly convey the message "you talk too much, get to the point"

[Ponderthought]

Outskirts of Northport, crater

"Heh, christ-men. I like your style."

Simon paused to light a crooked cigarette, shifting his umbrella uncomfortably.

"Alright, Northman, Ill give you the short of it. It appears that you just fell from the sky like a big goddamn meteor. The year is 2010. I don't know if your people had a calendar, but that's about a thousand years after the time your probably used too. Things have changed quite abit."

He took a long drag, and continued.

"As for why Im here. Im with Vigil. We tend to show up whenever strange things happen, like priceless antiquities being destroyed by errant falling Northmen. We contain things. Keep people from panicking. And we try and keep..people like the two of you from getting into to much trouble."

He dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his shiny black shoe.

[IcemanJRC]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

Smoking, nasty habit...

The shapeshifter crinkles it's nose and spits on the ground.

Do you think we actually need Virgil or whatever to keep an eye on us?

He asks this sincerely, no anger or aggression, and looks into Simon's eyes. As he stares Simon down, he flashes through several shapes, as if indecisive, then settles on the form of a young adult. Greasy black hair growing past his shoulders and the yellow of his eyes now sickly. He raises one eyebrow in question.

[Mina Kobold]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

The vikings eyebrows rises up higher than what is visible of his head beneath the helmet at the information just dumped on him

"A thousand years?"

He sits down on a nearby rock and almost yells as he talks

"IT'S BEEN A THOUSAND YEARS?!"

He seem to be quite uncertain about what to do, even to the point of apparently talking to himself.


"How? How did I survive a thousand years?

...

Yes, I know. But a thousand years?!"

It might have looked even odder if not for the barely audible sound returning.

[Ponderthought]

"Yech, I know, but everyone has a vice."

Simon winced at the vikings bellowing. It was understandable, but it was grating on his nerves. Couldn't be helped, he supposed.

"Need is irrelevant. We have to keep tabs on anything that falls under our jurisdiction. We just try and be polite about it. Besides, our friend over there seems like he dose need some guidance. I'd hate to be in his shoes."

He turned to the sitting warrior, his normally inscrutable expression softening abit.

"Yeah, it's been a thousand years. But there are some things that never change. Up is still up, the sea is still wet, and people still fight. You'll get used to it in no time if you've got someone to show you the ropes, friend."

[Mina Kobold]

The viking looks at the Vigil agent

"I know, I'll meet them all in Valhalla one day"

He stands up and picks up his sword, looking up at the stars

"It's just... I remember it all as if it was this week, not a thousand years ago"

He shakes his head

"I guess you're right, just got to sail onward and look for the treasures at the next wave"

[IcemanJRC]

The shapeshifter nods,

Alright,

He smiles and claps the viking and agent on the shoulder, and laughs,

I think we've just settled our problem here then...

He sighs,

It's nice when everything ends all warm and fuzzy.

[IonDragon]

[Old Town-History Museum]

Silently, Brian slid open the window letting in a small patter of rain. The older magnetic window alarms could be defeated with a narrow bit of iron bar and a magnet. He jiggled it to get the magnet in place to where he could leave it and slapped on a piece of duct tape. After putting his lockpicks away, he hauled himself up and dropped down lightly inside the museum.

"A little late night snooping, eh boss?"

He startles and almost slips in the puddle his dripping trench coat has made on the tile floor.

"I told you not to do that when I'm working!" he hisses out in an angry whisper.

He stands there a moment longer, silent but for the pitter patter of watter dripping from his clothes and medium length hair.

"Well?"

"You said you didn't want me talking."

"I said.... Okay, fine. Just don't startle me like that. Go look up ahead."

A large, raw gemstone suspended in a lightly glowing purple goo oozes from his coat pocket and drops to the ground. The goo stretches and melds into four legs and it scuttles off around the corner

"All clear"

"Good, go play lookout up the hall and. Don't. Get. Seen. I need some alone time with this thing to see what it knows." He brushes his hand against the glass containing the statue.

[Ponderthought]

Outskirts of Northport

Simon gave an awkward half-smile.

"Quite"

He strolled over to his car, a rather non-descript black Lincoln, and swung the passenger side door open.

"So, care for a lift somewhere?"

[IcemanJRC]

[Outskirts, Crater]

Wanna give me a ride to your headquaters? I need a job...

He laughs and rubs the back of his head.

Naw, you probably don't wanna give me a job.

[Mina Kobold]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

The viking stares at the car and the open door

"What's this? Some manner of sled or cart?"

He effortlessly lifts the front of the car to look underneath it

"How do you tie anything to it?"

The low noise returns and he shakes his head, mumbling something inaudibly.

[Terumitsu]

[An abandoned building in Old Town]

The dwenic took a half-step back as it stared at the translation module. It was harsh to listen to and the soul of the object seemed very rough, as if it were made of a rock. Not to mention that the luminecence was too abrupt and a little jarring. As a whole though, it was understandable. With a cautious slowness, the arachnoid alien replied in a somewhat muted way.

"I am able, yes." came the reply, hands still tucked behind their back. This might strike Halcyon as a bit odd if he remembered that the entry said something about a 'touch language' as well. Whatever the case, it seemed to be a very defininte action rather than simply something done to rest, although many other signs the alien was showing indicated that rest was a high priority at the moment. "If.. If this is shelter as you have claimed... Is there a place where I might lay my head?" the Dwenic asked, using the minimum necessary luminecence and discharge necessary to speak.

((My pardons for not posting sooner. My computer got nommed by a nasty virus and I had to do some major recovery work to get it back up and running again.))

[Ponderthought]

Abandoned building, Old Town

Halcyon paused, considering.

"I have assembled a number of cushions in the room adjacent to this one..I am not sure if they will be to your liking, I.. rarely rest, and I am unfamiliar with many details about your species. Please inform me if you require anything."

The exile shifted uncomfortably. He felt like he was missing a rather large portion of this conversation.

Outskirts of Northport

The agent glanced between the two of them, suddenly unsure if he wanted to subject his leather upholstery to a vikings first car ride.

"You be surprised. We're and equal opportunity employer. Hell, our file storage department's run by a ghost. We need to check the both of you into the system anyway."

He winced as the hulking warrior picked up his car, emitting an audible sigh of relief when he set it back down gently.

"It's called an automobile. Moves under its own power. Quite abit faster than any horse. A marvel of modern science really."

He climbed into the driver's seat, mentally preparing for the worst.

"Well?"

[Terumitsu]

[Abandoned building, Old Town]

That was quite a possibility as language barriers cannot simply be crossed with a fancy gizmo box, although it does a lot to help bridge the gap. However, those remaning failings will have to be found more or less blindly but hopefully each will grow to understand the other is just different enough to not know in the first place.

"I thank you for your hospitality. I am sorry that I must impose upon you." came the reply as the displaced alien made their way to the indicated room. Perhaps with some difficulty as the quadrupedal stance of the Dwenic was a bit wider than that of a bipedal being. In human conversation, such abruptness might be considered rude but perhaps it was not so for the Dwenic.

In any case, the alien arranged the various cusions in a circular fasion before kneeling down upon one side and finally laying down. Having more than two legs made this a somewhat more complicated manover in comparison but, being as it was all the species knew, found it as no real trouble. The Dwenic closed their amber eyes as their luminesence dimmed to a dark red. Yet, they did not sleep just yet. Perhaps the suddeness of the inquiry would be a little startling to Halcyon but perhaps not. Using a variant of mostly verbal sounds rather than the normally faster and much more precise language agrigate that had been used mainly before now, the Dwenic asked a somewhat vauge question that translated into something like this:

"What am I supposed to call a guardian such as you? Do you have a name?"

[Mina Kobold]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]

The viking shakes his head and mumbles something in Old Norse to seemingly nobody

"Frey's boat, Velk'jh. This is getting stranger by each step"

But eventually he tries to get into the car, managing not to cause too many scratches.

"Then show me this warlock art of moving faster than any horse, Christ-man"

The viking obviously doubts that the car can move at all but the alien interior of a modern car quickly warrants his attention.

"By Thor's belt...?"

[Ponderthought]

Outskirts of Northport

"Heh, well if you insist.."

Simon waited for his other passenger to get settled, then gunned the old Lincoln onto to the abandoned street. The car was rather blocky from the outside, but under the hood lurked a ferocious old engine. He lit another cigarette as he turned the car onto the interstate, kicking up to about 70 on the road back into town.

Abandoned Building, Oldtown

The exile turned away slightly, looking up through a high window. Even encased from head to foot in armor, he seemed a rather forlorn figure.

"Exiles are stripped of their true names. Those who know me in this place often refer to me as Halcyon"

He turned to exit the room.

"Rest well, traveler"

[Mina Kobold]

[Outskirts of Northport, Crater]


The viking looks confident that the car will not move one moment and the next he is holding on to the seatbelt like a madman.

"By Tyr! Slow down!"

[Terumitsu]

Halcyon's name translated rather oddly yet the Dwenic thought in it's tired mind that it was an applicable name. It brought to mind that if this golden guardian was an exile, then what about itself? Was it too an exile? Such questions were too heady right now as they detracted from rest. Yet there was a final thing to do before it could allow itself to pass into unconciousness. It uttered a sound that was somewhat clipped but apparently had meaning behind it although it was likely the translator would not have a word for it.

"Ktrome"

Having exchanged names with it's guardian, the alien slowly drifted away as it's breathing became soft and slow. An interesting thing would be to watch the sleeping extra-terrestrial as thier luminesence would occasionally flare up for a short moment or two in vibrant and lively colors. One might accurately guess that such occasions were tied to dreams.

[Ponderthought]

Northport, Highway

"Calm down, it's perfectly safe."

Simon eased the Lincoln down to the speed limit, and adjusted the rear-view mirror. He cracked the window so his cigarette smoke could escape.

"This is how we get around in the twenty-first century. What d'ya think, Northman? Beats the hell out of an ox-drawn wagon, eh?"

He contemplated turning on the radio, but dismissed the notion as abit silly. Best to go one at a time on this sort of thing.

[IcemanJRC]

[Northport, Highway]

The shapeshifter nods at Simon's explanations of the new world. Vikings are fun, so this should be fun. His thoughts wander between vikings and Vigil and everything that's probably gonna happen since he lives in Northport.

So where we heading? That Vigil base of yours or whatever?

[Mina Kobold]

[Northport, Highway]

The viking seem to relax a bit when the car slows down

"Maybe you can beat the food waggons and even the horses but not even a trip to Alfaheim beats a god day aboard a longboat, fighting your way across the icy waters of Greenland"

He laughs at something that is obviously funny about his sentence to himself but is more likely to just leaves his companions bewildered.

"What is this Vigil thing you keep talking about? Some kind of stronghold?"

[Ponderthought]

Northport, Highway

"Eh, you could think of it like that, but we're more of an organization than a moldering old castle. We serve the same general purpose though, protecting the locals."

He switched on the blinker and merged, narrowly avoiding a meandering old Volkswagen. The traffic was getting thicker now that they were closer to downtown.

"Right now, we're headed to the regional headquarters in Newton, to get the two of you checked in. You'll probably need a better guide to the twenty first century Northman, and we can find you one there. Might have some work for your friend too."

Simon scratched his chin in contemplation.

"Come to think of it, I haven't properly introduced myself. Im Simon Lo."

[Mina Kobold]

[Northport, Highway]

The viking forces his eyes off the cars moving past.

"Uh? Oh! my names are Leifr Logesson, Leifr the brave and Stormfinder"

Grinning a bit at Simon's name he asks another question

"So you are guardsmen for this city? I can understand that"

[IonDragon]

[Museum]

Many valuables cases are rigged with pressure sensing plates that will register the slightest touch. There are also others that can sense movement if it gets too close to the item on display. The statue was clearly protected by one of these methods, because no sooner had Brian laid a hand on the case than an alarm sounded someplace deeper in the building.

Hey boss, I don't think keeping watch is going to be such an issue any more. Chimed the crystal as Brian nearly slipped in some water that had probably come from his coat rounding a corner, and scooping up the crystal once more.

You don't say. retorted Brian jumping up to the small window and pulling himself back out into the night and the rain with gritted teeth.

Time to go home and regroup. Maybe come at it again another day. Maybe not. He hadn't really wanted to break into a Museum anyway. He wasn't even sure this was a case...

He trudges home through the rain, hood up, hands in his pockets. Nameless. Faceless.

[Ponderthought]

Northport, Highway.

"You could say that. it's abit more complex, but then again, what isn't?"

He the car slowed as the Lincoln entered Newton. The timing and order of turns had to precise. The Vigil Regional Headquarters was deliberately difficult to locate. Street by street directions meant nothing. No named street lead to the HQ. Simon muttered under his breath.

"Right, thirty seconds, left, right one minute thirty seconds, left, right, left three times annnnd we're here!"

Simon sighed. The arcane path to Headquarters was always and ordeal for his rather overtaxed memory.

[Mina Kobold]

Northport, Arcane Path

Leifr the brave looks out the window off the car, preparing to comment o what he sees.

So far it seems that is vision is blocked by a mysterious fog, but he continues trying until the author can figure out what it is.

(Yeah... I have no idea how the place look, so for now it's steam time! :smalltongue:)

[Ponderthought]

Northport, Vigil Regional Headquarters

(By arcane I actually meant obscure. The confusion is understandable in a setting like this.)

Simon swung the car into a spot near a gate in a bland concrete wall. The parking lot was an eerily deserted waste of asphalt crouching moodily betwixt the mirrored skyscrapers of Newton. The building beyond the wall was a squat, grey complex of concrete blocks. It had all the architectural charm of of a pregnant spider.

Simon had always disliked this place. The looming grey buildings were quietly oppressive. The atmosphere was intentional. Just creepy enough to keep out the brave, just boring enough to discourage the curious.

He stepped out into the parking lot, wincing as a gust of wind blew sleet into his face like a handful of tiny needles.

"Well Leifr, this is where I work. Nice place huh." He said with obvious sarcasm.

[Mina Kobold]

Northport, Vigil Regional Headquarters

(I know, I was just using it as a name, it's the best description anyway :smalltongue:)

Leifr gets out of the car, looking around in confusion

"You work in an empty cave?"

He asks, mumbling a bit more in Old Norse

[Ponderthought]

Northport, Vigil Regional Headquarters

"Im aware it doesn't look like so much from the outside. The idea was, if it looked boring and gloomy enough, it'd keep anyone passing by from sticking their noses in our business"

He strode up to the gate and punched a few numbers into a nearby access pad. A voice crackled to life from the intercom.

"Do you have business with the U.S. Department of (static)"

"Knock it off Jim, it's me. Open the gate would you? it's really nasty out here today"

The old gate swung open, the rusted hinges squealing in protest. Simon made his way up to the main building, angling his umbrella so as to avoid any more sleet.

[Mina Kobold]

Northport, Vigil Regional Headquarters

Leifr follows Simon through the gate, looking suspiciously at it. Not quite trusting a door that seemingly moves by itself.

[IcemanJRC]

[Northport, Vigil Regional Headquarters]

The shapeshifter, who up until now had remained silent, pipes up,

So, what's up with this place? It's some sort of office or something?

He scratches his chin and looks around curiously.

[Ponderthought]

Northport, Vigil Regional headquarters

"Mostly. We tend to see alot of benefit in decentralization, so headquarters mainly serves as an office and meeting place. Most departments have their own facilities off site, so if anything really bad happens, it cant get all of us."

He pushed through a set of old oak doors into what looked like some sort of lobby. A woman of middling age sat quietly behind the counter. Ignoring her Simon strode towards the back wall and flipped a hidden switch. The dingy wall slid away, revealing a space that seemed far to large to be contained in the building they had seen from the outside. Men and women in cheap black suits hustled from place to place, and a number of other..things, held conversations with the black suited persons, went briskly about their own business, or simply stood, looking slightly confused.

"Welcome to Vigil, friends."

[IcemanJRC]

[Northport, Vigil Regional Headquarters]

Wow, this is pretty sweet...

The shapeshifter turns and stares at all the spectacle of Vigil,

Wait, wasn't there a movie like this...

[Ponderthought]

Northport, Vigil Regional Headquarters

"Yeah, we kind of felt like they copied us there. But at least we have some taste. Note the lack of stainless steel and abundance of oak. We run a classy show here."

Simon smirked.

"Anyway, I think I ought to hand the two of you off to someone who's abit more qualified to help you out. Im not exactly great at Human Resources stuff."

He strolled over to an ancient mahogany desk with an equally ancient man seated behind it.

"Hello Mort. Could you do me a favor and get someone from HR up here? And possibly someone from the Displacement Counseling office? Maybe that girl who handled the thing with the mummy, she's pretty good."

The ancient bureaucrat eyed the group warily from behind his thick glasses. "Can do." he croaked.

[Mina Kobold]

Northport, Vigil Regional Headquarters

Leifr looks around him and spots what looks like a luminescent fog with several limbs floating around and mumbles something to himself, the echo of the room revealing that something is indeed replying to him. Leifr shrugs and turn to Simon.

"You have seen the living dead? I have a lot to learn about this new time."