[Nexus] Inside 55

[Shadowcaller]

Murder Scene

"And the pockets." Hekta insists as she reaches over to take the moon, carefully avoiding the blood, there was always something valuable in the pockets.

[happyturtle]

Murder Scene

Elias sighs, but he won't stop her from searching the pockets.

[Rebonack]

[Pokecenter]

Nurse Armstrong will describe the trainer in detail, while being pretty over the top about the whole thing.

Shortly there after a young man limps into the center grumbling to himself.

Grumbling about what, you ask?

Weeell...

"Stupid evil team stealing my weedle AND my ponyta! I saw it first, it should have been mine."

Grumble grumble...

Maybe a certain fisher might catch what Joey is saying?

[Chaotic Bob]

Spoiler

Show

Augerine Elmouse

Magtok stands, clad in his semi-formal black robes for this. He raises an eyebrow. That face and hair...no. No, it couldn't be. The build is accurate enough, give or take a few pounds since it's been a long time, but still, no way is it the same woman. There's just no way Lady Feia could be Iceberg Girl, abusive former mistress of the notorious Kirk Locke. The lady who laid and slayed the drow manwhore on a hunk of ice in the middle of the ocean couldn't possibly be the same individual standing in front of him right now, she just couldn't! It's obviously just a false positive or something on the MagComputer memory logs. Clearly a coincidence, like in A Tale of Two Cities or whatever. Maybe her twin sister or something. Alternate dimension version of Iceberg Lady, or two separate players mistakenly used the same image as inspiration for their characters. It's definitely what happened to Raril and Kirk, right? Drow men with fancy hats and dumb hair, doomed to go on living knowing there's another doofus out there, with the same taste in black suits and silly hats.

"Lady Feia? Lord Magtok. I take it you got my message from our mutual...well, I wouldn't call Affidavit a friend, but even acquaintance seems a bit too generous."

Pet would be more accurate in terms of scale, but it'd also imply ownership, and some degree of tolerance and attentions towards the wretched blight. Parasite, irritant, and insect would work, if it didn't assume so much about Feia, and made it sound like Magtok's ever been hurt enough to dedicate time and resources to eradicating the creations. He sent a henchwoman to assassinate Affy's human body once, but even then, he couldn't muster much more than mild aggravation with the boring, grumbly critic who never did anything for the team but complain.

[Augerine Elmouse]

Recognition.
Good, they can skip some of the learning phase.

Feia's lips purse very slightly at Affidavit's name. She can't help it.
The witch is highly irritated at the Professor for even allowing this to cross the cyborg's fetid dreams, let alone his reality.
More cross for helping, however faintly, to reveal the necessity of it.


Magtok rising, whether from politely, fear, or simply because his legs were feeling mildly twitchy, is noted and marked positively.
Stopping a short distance away, Feia then presents a thin-gloved left hand to the cyborg.
In a handshakey way. Very business-like.
"I cannot fathom any other reason I would be here. Currently I still fail to grasp the 'why', but I suspect it will be revealed to me shortly."

Hopefully Magtok came up with an actual reason for this all at some point, other than "wonder who the Creations were talking about?".
Hopefully he can actually make this little outing entertaining.

[Lord Magtok]

Augerine Elmouse

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven," Magtok quotes, before laying a kiss upon the gloved hand. He had to, though. Honestly, what kind of weirdo shakes hands with their left arm? You're so freaky and backwards, Feia.

"I reserved in advance though, so no, it shouldn't be that long. I hadn't realized we'd both seen each other before; might have arranged things differently if I knew." Might have run away screaming if he did. He's not fond of frostbite.

[GrandDM]

When Harald butts in, he just gets a glare.

"Regardless of whatever qualifications you believe you have to skip ahead of others, you will wait in line or you will leave."

I'm sorry, there's a line? When was this mentioned, exactly?

[BladeofObliviom]

I'm sorry, there's a line? When was this mentioned, exactly?

(After Mr. Teller. It's a short line, but the guard can only hold one conversation at a time.)

[GrandDM]

Fair enough.

Repeat my post above, except wait until the robots are at the front of the line.

[Rebonack]

[Market Street]

Four riders are passing through the City.

The first sits astride a white horse, clean and pure. He wears a robe as bright as freshly fallen snow and a golden crown is set upon his head. In his right hand he holds a bow, though no quiver for arrows.

The second rides a red horse crackling with crimson flame. Shod in thick plate the color of freshly spilled blood the imposing figure glares at a map with unseen eyes hidden behind his visor. Strapped across his back is a sword to which has been granted the power to strip peace from the world.

The third horse is black as coal and its rider draped in equally dark wool. He appears unnaturally gaunt, eyes and cheeks hollow, hair little more than a wisp clinging to his scalp. In his hand sways a set of bronze balances.

The fourth rides a pale horse livid with decay. The rider himself is cloaked in a white burial shroud, his skeletal features obscured by the ephemeral cloth that seems equal parts fabric and fog. An ancient, time worn scythe is clutched in bony fingers. And the open mouth of the grave follows after him. The bleak blackness of the pit clings to the rider in a greasy miasma.

For a time they simply stand there in the middle of the market until at last the White Rider speaks up in a voice that could melt the hearts and sway the minds of the masses. "We're lost."

"Shut up, Conquest," the Red Rider rumbles as he turns the map right-side up (or possibly upside down). "I know where we are."

"We shoulda asked that hot demon chick for directions," the Pale Rider suggests.

"We're not asking for directions, Death!" the Red Rider thunders. "I can read a goddamn map! I know where we are!"

"Not that... uuh... not that I'm saying you're bad at navigating, War," the Black Rider says hesitantly. "But... maybe we should have... you know... taken a right back at Damascus? We could go back that way if it's alright with everyone else..."

War simply glowers at Famine.

"Sorry..." the Black Rider squeaks.

War returns to glaring hate and fury at the map in his overly spiky gauntlets. The four of them really make quite the scene, passerbys giving them plenty of room for fear of invoking divine wrath.

Nobody like being smitten by divine wrath.

One, however, manages to work up the courage to approach them. A simple peasent-looking woman carrying an armful of bread. "Hello there, sirs. Are you lost?"

"We're not lost!" War thunders indignantly. "We're right-"

The Red Rider seems to be searching for their location on the map. And coming up empty.

"We're lost, yes," Conquest speaks up. War makes a nasty sound like metal scraping on metal, but otherwise says nothing. "We have a rather important occasion to attend. It would be simply dreadful were we to miss it."

Death leans toward the newcomer all the while wearing that eternal death's-head grin of his. "Well hey there little lady. If yer offerin' to help us out I wouldn't mind one bit letting you take the lead, if you know what I mean."

"If you umm... if you could tell us where we are? That would be really nice. If... umm... if it isn't too much trouble I mean..." Famine mutters.

The woman inches away from Death and offers an uncomfortable smile. Not only is she married, she also finds immortal incarnations of demise unnerving. "Well... This is the City of Inside, in the Nexus."

"Nexus?" War huffs. "I don't think that's on the map..."

"Sounds to me like Famine might have been right about Damascus," Conquest laughs, his tone and disposition the sort that makes him seem as warm and personable as possible. Something about the guy is absurdly likable.

Death seems a bit put off that his awful pickup line was ignored... He worked hard on that one!

"Oh... umm... an Empire? I don't think there's supposed to be one of those. Not that that's a problem or anything," Famine replies. "We were supposed to go to Rome. And then... sort of... go do our jobs other places from there? I think...?"

With an irritated grumble War crumples up the map and tosses it over his shoulder. Upon hitting the ground it explodes violently for no readily apparent reason. Famine flinches at the sound.

"Don't you have any idea who the hell we are?" the imposing armored figure thunders down at the woman providing directions. "We're the Four Horsemen of the futuoing apocalypse! It's our job to see that the Kingdoms of Men are nothing but smoking ruins by the time we're done."

Between his angry tone and the fact that fire and smoke are curling out of the holes in his bloody red helmet the woman decides that now would be a great time to move away from War. Far away. Fleeeee!

Death leans over to Famine and prods at him with a bony elbow. "She totally had the hots for me."

Conquest heaves a long sigh and adjusts his glamorous crown. "Well, gentlemen, we haven't the faintest clue where we are nor how to reach Rome from here. Any ideas?"

[Seeking Interaction!]

[Deathkeeper]

Market Street

Arty exits an alley to find himself here. Too bad he's not sure where this is, either. But here's a bunch of well, if scarily-dressed gents.
"Pardon me, fellows, but are you lost, too? I think I was supposed to take a right at Hodgepodge street." asks the young centaur, trotting up to them.
Horsemen, meet literal horseman.

[Rebonack]

[Market Street]

Hey! Conquest isn't dressed in a scary outfit. He's downright fashionable! In fact, there's something about him that makes him seem inherently likable and trustworthy. Famine doesn't look all that scary, either. He (or maybe she, it's hard to tell) just looks hungry.

"Haha! That guy looks like he got a horse's head crammed up his-"

*SMACK!*

"Oow! What was that for?" Death grouses.

War waves a gauntlet at Death threateningly to let him know wthat he might get cuffed again in the near future. "Shut the futuo up, Death."

"Please excuse my somewhat gauche comrades," Conquest says in his silky-smooth voice. "And yes, we've found ourselves quite misplaced. Which is a shame, we have an important appointment to see to."

"Well, umm... Maybe it would be okay if we started here instead of at Rome?" Famine suggests meekly. When the others look him Famine flinches and tries to hide inside his woolen hood. "If that wouldn't be too inconvenient for everyone, I mean..."

"Hmm... that might have some merit," Conquest muses. "The Scroll of Seven Seals doesn't strictly define where our work must begin."

[Deathkeeper]

Market Street

Good thing Arty likes books so much, because he actually got some of what they're saying. He's also restrained enough not to sock someone for making fun of his equine posterior.
"I'd have to advise against that course of action, if I might guess at its nature. Doing so would have you up against roughly one hundred minor deities, three major ones, several thousand of demigod strength through some means, and a number of particle cannons. It's a pretty big city."

[Rebonack]

[Market Street]

"Oh, umm... We probably shouldn't do that, then. It sounds like it would really upset people. That wouldn't be very nice," Famine mutters.

One can almost see War's look of incredulity despite his helmet. "Are you kidding? Your job is to make millions of people suffer and die from malnourishment and you're worried about being nice?"

"Well, I don't want to be insensitive about people's feelings..." the hooded rider replies, doing his best to vanish inside his black woolen robes.

Conquest offers a winning smile. "You needn't worry yourself about our safety. Everything has its appointed time and place, after all."

[Arkhosia]

Market Street

Suddenly, Caelynn appears!
Hello Horsemen and Horseman. Mind if I ask what you're discussing?

[Deathkeeper]

Market Street

Arty shrugs.
"Maybe, but it's not the time and place for anyone here right now. Your brother would be 28th in line as manifestation of death, for example. The Laws that govern your deployment don't have jurisdiction here, so you wouldn't have the right to start your routine in this city."

[Rebonack]

[Market Street]

"Hey, I'm no reaper," Death objects. Then gives his scythe a sidelong glance and sloooooowly stuffs it into the churning pits of hell that loom behind him. "I don't go around pickin' up the souls of stiffs. That's a job for losers. Besides-"

And then Caelynn shows up.

"-well hey there good lookin'. You doin' anything tonight? Because I sure know who I'd like to be doin' tonight."

Conquest does his best to ignore the dreadfully improper display. "Not as such, no. But if my understanding of this place is correct it is tangential to our jurisdiction. Should we begin our work here it would quickly spread to our home universe and provide us with a convenient path to follow home."

"But what about all the people and animals we would upset?" Famine objects. "Think of all the poor little starving bunnies! I mean... umm... if you want to, I mean... If you want to think about them. But if you don't that's okay, too..."

"You are such a wimp, Famine," War groans.

[Deathkeeper]

Market Street

Arty scratches his head a bit.
"I don't think dimensional travel works that way here."
Is his only response.

[Beans]

[Market Street]
Carrie shows up because hey, why not!
The minor death goddess looks and oh balls no. These guys again... or... are they those guys? Or those other guys?
There's, like, a zillion iterations of Four Horsemen-esque groups and she can never tell them apart at union meetings and it's so awkward just calling them War and stuff when sometimes some of them prefer to be called other things, like Bernice.
'Course, she's likely to show up on their radar somehow or another, being a wee goddess.
Oh crap.

[Arkhosia]

Market Street

Caelynn simply blushes, not really knowing how to react to that.

[Rebonack]

[Market Street]

"One wouldn't ever know unless one tries," Conquest replies smoothly. "And of course the early stages of our work are fully benign. What harm is there in seeing others unified under a common ruler?"

"Hahaha! I don't think that would work here, Conquest," War laughs. "This place is so thick with chaos I bet I could cut it with my sword. I doubt even your silver tongue would be able to win everyone over."

Famine mumbles something so quiet as to be completely indecipherable.

"Speak up you spineless sack of crap," War thunders. "No one can hear you muttering inside your stupid hood."

"Well... maybe, if it was okay with everyone, we could split up and look around?" Famine replies hesitantly. "There must be someone who knows how to get to Rome from here. After all, all roads lead to Rome. Or... umm... that's what they say, anyway..."

Silence.

"Sorry... that idea was stupid... I should just be quiet..."

"No, I believe you might be on to something. At the very least it would be less drastic than our other option. And less likely to raise the ire of the godlings. Pagan gods are such a dreadful pain to deal with."

Death, meanwhile, leans in a bit closer to the blushing woman. "Sooo... Your place or mine, hot stuff?"

"Death, please stop trying to seduce the mortals. It is unbecoming."

[Deathkeeper]

Market Street

"Huh. I didn't figure Death would one who's into cat ears."
mocks Arty quietly. Ok, maybe he's a little mad about the horse joke.

[Beans]

"No, I believe you might be on to something. At the very least it would be less drastic than our other option. And less likely to raise the ire of the godlings. Pagan gods are such a dreadful pain to deal with."

[Market Street]
Hey, that's both kind of offensive to me and also a thing I kind of agree with---oh crap, I said that out loud.
Carrie blinks, hears the ear comment, and folds her wings tight behind her.

[Arkhosia]

Market Street

Caelynn blushes much more at that.
I-uh, I guess, uh... I, uh, I don't know...
It appears being seduced disabled Caelynn's ability to think clearly.

[Rebonack]

[Market Street]

"Hey, I don't discriminate, buddy," Death replies with his ever-present grin. It's true. Saying that Death hits on anything that breaths would imply a degree of self-restraint that he wholly lacks.

And then a godling pipes up!

Small world, huh?

Conquest gives her a nonplussed look. "Unfortunately, miss, our job requires us to take actions that will offend the pagan gods. When one is to see to the dissolution of the Kingdoms of Men the gods who watch over those kingdoms inevitably become testy."

He speaks the truth!

[Deathkeeper]

Market Street

Arty snorts in disgust but lets the ladies have their discussion.

[Beans]

[Market Street]
Carrie frowns, toying nervously with her hair.
I have a feeling this might be a bad thing overall... so... is not making it happen an option? That would be pretty good.

[Arkhosia]

Market Street

I, uh, guess you can, uh, decide?
She's still blushing a lot and not thinking clearly at all.

I love my characters getting in awkward situations.

[Rebonack]

[Market Street]

"Oh, quite the contrary," Conquest replies smartly. "The end of the Kingdoms of Men is a good thing. Mortals are sorely unfit to rule themselves, what with the genocide and wars and so forth. No, they will fare much better with a benevolent God-Emperor telling them what to do and and what to believe."

When the lady replies to Death in the fashion which she does the Pale Rider does a little arm pump! Score! "Well I'm thinkin' your place would be-"

*TWHACK!*

"No," War states emphatically.

"But-!"

"NO!"

"Pfft... friggin' prude."

[Deathkeeper]

Market Street

"Miss, I would highly suggest you high-tail it before the embodiment of death gets any more ideas."
whispers Arty to the non-divine girl.

[Beans]

"You're all I have in this place besides a suit and a long-dead memory of something I used to be a part of, people I'll never see but still love. I would die for you, if I had to. And not just because of that, but because you are, and always will be, one of those people I love. But... You do have a point. That may be an unneeded risk." Alia sighs softly, wishing she knew what to do to protect her friend. And that things were simpler... There was a reason she focused on machines and computers so much.

[Tech Bay]
Vesa is quiet, but eventually speaks up.
I... suppose it could be said that I have already died for you, since I took the offer of Revenant surgery in hopes of being to see my team again. She pats Alia's helmet.
And... if I am, as I believe, still in some small way capable of affection, then you are one of two people for whom I hold it.
... Let us patrol for now. It's been too long since we did this together.
---
[Market Street]
Carrie scoots away, already skeeved. Um... yeah, okay, I... sure.