Inside 61

[Recaiden]

[Underground Hive]

Where did you come by this ability?
The longcoat will be torn to strips to remove all the reagent pouches and hand them off to a drone-demon to dispose of.
The living muk within the hive's creep flows in around her skin, cold but tingling as it should begin the magical reaction to transform her into a Cuthunian.

Jeans without pockets. The monster doesn't realize how exceptional this is. What it does is carefully, using her hands as well as her claws, try to strip Phoebe of all her clothes and any hidden belongings. Garments and tools are beneath them.
Tell us everything.

[Ionbound]

[Underground Hive]

Phoebe shudders as the muk seeps into her skin, though she doesn't turn immediately. For her, it'll take a few hours before she becomes a demon, though even now early signs of mutation are showing, such as two bulges on her shoulderblades, and that whenever she opens her mouth, her tongue is purple rather than it's normal coloration.

However, she does become much more pliable to the queen's ministrations, and nods, not resisting being stripped, replies, "Um...I was just born with it. I don't know...I've just always been able to. The only real limitations I've found so far is that it only works on dead organic material, and I have to be able to touch it, either with my body or with a magically charged thing to affect it."

[Recaiden]

[Underground Hive]

The queen chitters happily, its first physical sound.
They can use this.

The creep flows in to cover Phoebe, coating every inch of her body, smothering her, even to flow into her lungs, but not suffocating her. It wouldn't do to have their prize die. While the demonic muk effects its magical transformation, other elements have more physical changes to bring about. Tiny original strain larvae slither towards the soon-to-be assimilated necrourgist, channels for viruses and spore-flowers are opened in the ooze, and a cocoon starts to form around her.
She'll join Cuthun in a few hours, most likely, but it will be a few days before she's part of the Swarm.

[Ionbound]

[Underground Hive]

Phoebe doesn't resist at all, and allows the creep to cover her, cocoon forming as she adopts a fetal position and awaits her transformation.

[Lady Serpentine]

[Grey Zone Apartments]

"There are some perks to this life..." Sarah smiles at her, unlocking the door and stepping inside, waving Elizabeth to follow; the room in question is apparently the living room, to judge by the way it's furnished - a long, low, couch covered in dark red velvet sits against the near wall, flanked by a pair of in-built dark wooden bookcases covered in carvings of roses twining through each other (complete with inch-long thorns sticking out of them), the one on the right wrapping around to cover the rest of the wall and the one next to it, until it reaches a dark doorway.

The far wall, meanwhile (which, as more of it can be seen from here than the rest, reveals the room to be painted a darkish, dusty, red) has a fireplace set into it, presumably a renovation she got herself, since it's not that nice a place that such would be standard, with an elaborate iron fire-screen bearing a dragon pattern on it and a pair of large, comfortable-looking armchairs are next to it, both a striking red a few shades lighter than the couch, with black ottomans in front of them. It also has another doorway in it, directly across from where they are.

Oddly, while the chandelier (that, again, is probably something she put in herself) isn't lit, nor is the fireplace, the whole room does seem to be suffused with a pale grey light without a clear source; the effect is somewhat disconcerting, though not necessarily easy to put one's finger on, particularly if unused to such tricks.

[Trick's Inverstigations]

"Right. Sorry. Getting ahead of myself there. Not used to having to wait on people... I get what you mean, though, yeah." Llolfaen glances off to one side nervously, uncertain and a bit wary, since she doesn't actually have much in the way of money right now. "How much will the testing cost? Assuming that what you have in mind is sufficient, obviously, rather than getting into what happens if you have to try weirder things than what you're planning to get more details or something."

[Ionbound]

[Grey Zone Apartments]

Elizabeth nods and says, "I see...Very nice," as she surveys the room, taking in the rather stereotypically gothic decor, though she finds herself appreciating it, rather than the amused distaste she would have observed it with as a human.

She then blinks as she realizes that the lights are off, and even if they were, they wouldn't be producing grey light, and says, "Huh...So we can see in the dark? That...Makes sense, all things considered." It's also important to note that now that Elizabeth is here, she's much less nervous, and simply impressed, rather than particularly afraid of anything.

[Rebonack]

[Weather Factory]

"It's one of the big upsides to living in the Nexus," Fortuna admits as she begins clomping her way along the top of the catwalk. "So long as you can work out the comparability issues. Thankfully the Nexus' translational property takes care of most of it. Otherwise things would just stop working. Or explode. Or suddenly retroactively become a potted cactus."

A beat.

"I've seen that happen before. The cactus thing. Having part of a magnetic confining bottle suddenly become a prickly succulent can cause all sorts of trouble."

It results in explosions, typically.

Cactus explosions.

"We process both the raw rainbow and the cloudstuff here in the factory. Eighty five percent of the cloudstuff goes into magical weather production, but the rest goes into the fabrication of our various durable products. The rainbow is refined into high-end super-conducting media, both fluid and solid-state. We're one of the major suppliers of temperature independent super-conductors here in the Nexus since our product line doesn't require harassing giant blue cat people."

As the pair walk they'll pass a large swirling vat of prismatic color. Raw rainbow is being magically process, colors separated out, and fluid being carefully heated in presses to produce sheets of shimmering glass-like material.

[Lost_Deep]

Weather Factory

"I am curious about the building materials, whenever you get around to that," Caravan says casually as she examines the machines. Maybe she should get a distribution agreement...

[Rebonack]

[Weather Factory]

"Most of the materials we use here are cloud-based," Fortuna explains as she starts down the catwalk toward the factory floor. "With the right magical conditioning and curing process, cloudstuff can be used to emulate a wide selection of different materials from stone to ceramic to metal. These catwalks are metallic cloudstuff, for example."

Should Caravan look closely, she'll be able to see swirly, cloud-like patterns woven into the floor under her hooves.

"We can make cloudstuff dense enough that it can interact with materials that aren't enchanted with a cloud-walking spell. That allows us to incorporate components that we can't replicate with clouds, rainbows, or NMICs."

A beat.

"That's 'non-melting ice crystals'," Fortuna adds.

Because clarity! People outside the industry often won't know what some random industry standard acronym means.

[Lost_Deep]

Weather Factory

Caravan 'ahh's slightly when the acronym is explained, but otherwise lets Fortuna continue unabated.

[Rebonack]

[Weather Factory]

And then conflict happens.

What sort of conflict?

The sort of conflict that involves a bunch of humans in blocky powered armor leaping up through the floor of the factory, scattering poofs of cloud and startled pegasi everywhere! They land with a heavy clomp on the cloud-steel floor, the cloudstuff holding up the multi-ton machines admirably. The trio of warriors begin waving their massive weapons all over the place.

"Spread out!" one of them bellows. "Gather as much unobtainium as you can!"

Fortuna face-palms.

"Ugh... Not them again..."

Considering how much ruckus the trio of space-marines (not the 40k sort, silly) are causing, she's remaining pretty clam about this nonsense.

"I'm really sorry about this, Miss Caravan," Fortuna says. "These people have been harassing us off and on for the past several years. For whatever reason they seem dead set on the belief that proper compensation for our PrismSC products consists of glass beads and other worthless baubles."

Seems they're confusing them with giant blue cat people.

[Lost_Deep]

Weather Factory

Caravan frowns at this. "I understand. This always seems to happen with the most promising situations... is it me? Bah. Can your people handle this?" she combs a hoof through her mane, and it comes out with a hoofband on it.

[Rebonack]

[Weather Factory]

"Usually we can talk them down," Fortuna admits. "Thankfully it's rare that any actual violence breaks out."

Because violence is terrible.

"We just have to convince them-"

Again.

"-that we are not in fact savages, but rather a subsidiary of one of the Nexus' largest corporations."

The weather factory is, after all, part of Roseluck Agricorp.

Anywho!

Fortuna flies down in front of one of the hulking, blocky machines. The draconequus is pretty good sized herself, but she lacks the sheer mass of the ponderous walking tank. "Excuse me, sir! Could we please discuss this instead of wantonly destroying our equipment?"

If Gilded wanted to try reasoning with the space marines Fortuna probably wouldn't object.

[Lost_Deep]

Weather Factory

Caravan will hmm and run a hoof through her hair, pulling out a small device that she twists. She suddenly becomes a human woman of Grecian descent, wearing a deep blue dress with a lot of sparkly gold. She, herself, stands in front of a different mech, planting her hands on her hips and DARING the driver to swing at a civilian. She's not scared of a man in a mini-mech. She's not scared at all. Judging from her pose and expression, she thinks she can take him.

[Recaiden]

[Hive beneath the Grey Zone]

A good deal of time has passed. The old rusted installation they dragged Phoebe through has been broken down into pieces. The drone that returned her has been 'rewarded' with a new existence as the heart of a spawning pool, slowly filling with a mix of rainwater, muk, and their own mutagenic toxins. The dead one has been recycled.
All this time Phoebe has been changing. Her shape has been absorbed by demonic essence; the humans he was now exists only in the memory of the dreaming god. The infestation larvae and poisons that flow in her veins (no blood left there now) have been hard at work. The mutation larvae have been equally busy trying to grow a new human-pattern creature. All failures, so far, but one day they'll get it.

Phoebe wasn't supposed to still be intelligent; she can thank her magic for that. Every time a bit of the flesh in and around her died, it was twisted in instinctive self defense. Eventually they would just establish an overlord-class psi-link and call it good enough, all they could do. What can the demons do but accept it, and paraphrase an old line.
Awaken my child, and embrace the glory that is your birthright. Know that I am Aaiesi, your mother; the queen of the Swarm, and that you have been created to serve me.
Images of the swarm at its greatest should fill her head: teeming throngs of 'lings racing across deserts, flocks of bat-wing monstrosities soaring through the skies, the towering hive-structures, massive tusking creatures clambering across glaciers, gates across reality being torn open by sheer force of will.
They fade away as the chrysalis splits open.

She should be able to see in flickering half-light, but more than that, besides all her enhanced senses, she should be able to feel the other demons scurrying hither and yon about their work. Friendly, welcoming. She is one of them.

[Slii Arhem]

Cafe 124

Pat considers this.
"Well... the other thing is that I honestly can't do that for quite some time. I can only grant a trio of wishes in a day, and a few 'maxed-out' days in a month. So even if I was willing to just grant wishes of people who don't really know what they're asking for, which already sounds like it could get mean fast, I'd be burned out for half a year by the time I started making any progress at all. And I don't know if I really feel comfortable asking friends to risk that for me." she says self-consciously.

Cafe 124

"Well now, that does sound like an actual stumbling block, doesn't it? And since you're not immortal, you can't simple wait to get the practice in. Well then, I suppose I could lend a hand to an inspiring new djinn." For whatever reason, he doesn't correct his seeming mistake. Was it a mistake?

"I'm willing to offer you... let's see... a bit of a contract, I think. Temporary wishes that will be drawn by my power, but created by your will. They'll each last twenty four hours, and each wish is independent of the others, they will not alter or affect each other, so you can't undo a wish by a previous one, you have to wait out its end." He seems to be thinking up the rules on the fly, as if they're completely arbitrary. Maybe they are.

"You can grant as many of these as you like, separate from your actual wishes, and your actual wishes can undo or overwrite the ones I'm offering. Think of them as practice wishes, with a minor negative consequence as an incentive to get them right. And when you're all practiced up, all you have to do is find me and tell me if it was a good experience, and what you learned. Then, you'll be on your own." Damien appears to like the sound of this more and more as he speaks, grinning happily by the end.

[Deathkeeper]

Cafe 124

Pat stops to consider this for a few moments, before returning the smile and nodding.
"Well, I don't know how long it'll be before I'm confidant enough to end the deal, but for a while at least that sounds fine. Thank you." she says genuinely. She holds out a hand.
"Is this the kind of thing that's proper to shake on?" she asks him.

[Slii Arhem]

Cafe 124

"If I said that the more traditional way to seal such a contract would be the kiss of a dazzling young maiden, I doubt you'd believe me." He laughs as he shakes her hand, and she may feel a new, separate well of power to draw from fill her (metaphysically) that would feel very different from her own wish-giving in a way that's impossible to begin describing.

"Of course, more traditionally, men and women alike would sell the hand and loins of their heirs for such a gift, so perhaps asking for a kiss is bartering too low." A dashing wink lets her know he's only joking, but he seemed deadly serious about it up until his expression changed. It's entirely possible he's speaking from experience.

[Cyber Punk]

Midnight Park

Spoiler: Description (copied from First Post)

Show

This place enshrines a patch of forest so thick that light never reaches the ground. The smallest trees are wider than most people are tall, and the largest are truly awe-inspiring. The forest floor is a maze of twisting roots, fallen branches, and decaying leaves. There is never a breath of wind among the massive trunks, and the atmosphere is oppressive with fear and gloom. At least it used to be oppressive with fear and gloom. Fear and gloom are still around, but they aren't nearly as bad.

Foot paths have been cleared through the forest and lanterns hung up that glow with cool silvery white light to keep the feral shadows at a distance from anyone who decides to walk in the cool of the shadows. Undead creatures that stray too close to the magical lanterns will find themselves illuminated by incandescent sunlight until they retreat back to a safe distance. Signs have been set up admonishing visitors to stay on the paths and warning of the unspeakable doom that will probably befall them if they don't.

Shadows prowl the darkness, their red eyes glinting in the gloom and the air filled with their hungry whispers, though they're loath to approach the paths. There's the occasional bodak or feral vampire spawn lurking around in the park as well, but they tend to keep well away from the paths since those areas are mostly commonly patrolled by the park's custodians.

The custodians, of course, being Team Nightmære. It isn't at all uncommon to find patrols of nightmære shadelings poking about, chatting with visitors, maintaining the trails, or installing new equipment around the park to make visits by the living more pleasant.

Sharpe arrives at the park that he and Axanot had decided they'd meet. He stands at the entrance, admiring the vegetation and the beauty of the place. If Axanot is there with him, he'd comment on the beauty of the place, a smile on his face. It's exploring time.

[goto124]

Midnight Are You Sure This Isn't a Forest

Axanot arrives with Sharpe. 'So that's how bladewalk works. Nice and efficient.' She lets Sharpe finish talking about the place before she says, 'Where's the blade, by the way?'

Axanot approaches a warning sign and reads it. 'Unspeakable doom... we're here to face it. Or do we pick up a quest from some poor person who's lost a trinket?'

[Cyber Punk]

Midnight Park Forest

"Now in one of my pouches." Sharpe replies.

"Maybe we can try looking for one of the custodians and asking around. There should be one here somewhere..." Sharpe looks around, scanning the area. "As long as we don't stray into the path, we should be fine."

((That's your cue, Rebo! Release the battle walruses!))

[Rebonack]

[Midnight Park]

Well!

If you're looking for a pleasant walk slash harrowing adventure then this is certainly the right place. The park has a surreal, almost ethereal feel to it, beyond what one would normally expect from a forest filled with monolithic trees, fields of ferns, streams of dark water, and alien mushrooms and wildflowers popping up everywhere. The trees are all dark, towering things, their trunks as black as pitch as though they had been burned. Amidst the titanic conifers stand smaller, but still impressive, vine maples, their spidery branches reaching off in every direction, their boughs thick with sheets of faintly luminescent Spanish moss.

Wildflowers and mushrooms alike glow in a rainbow of neon colors. Orange and yellow and purple and red and delicate white. Where once the forest was filled with naught but death and oppressive gloom, the floor is now bursting with ghostly, otherworldly color.

Someone has really be working hard at making this place pleasant to visit.

What kind of someone, you ask?

Well, to find them one will have to venture into the park and seek them out. Skulking around at the entrance isn't any way to begin an adventure.

[Weather Factory]

"Hey, you need to clear out of here," the guy in the mech yells at Gilded through its speakers. "These aliens are dangerous."

Yep.

The cute, pastel miniature magical talking horses that are fleeing from the walking tanks are super dangerous.

Fortuna, meanwhile, is doing her best to talk down one of the other space marines.

[Deathkeeper]

Cafe 124

"If I said that the more traditional way to seal such a contract would be the kiss of a dazzling young maiden, I doubt you'd believe me." He laughs as he shakes her hand, and she may feel a new, separate well of power to draw from fill her (metaphysically) that would feel very different from her own wish-giving in a way that's impossible to begin describing.

"Of course, more traditionally, men and women alike would sell the hand and loins of their heirs for such a gift, so perhaps asking for a kiss is bartering too low." A dashing wink lets her know he's only joking, but he seemed deadly serious about it up until his expression changed. It's entirely possible he's speaking from experience.

Cafe 124

"Well, if that were true you'd have to go find one, which would probably be a pain." she says. Apparently she doesn't have much confidence in her looks.
"And no heirs either, so really this is the most reasonable agreement." she says with a grin.

[Lost_Deep]

Weather Factory

"Sir, are you aware that you are currently attacking, with intent to raid, an industrial complex?" Caravan asks, "An industrial complex ran by an alien race, no less. Are you trying to start a war?"

[Slii Arhem]

Cafe 124

"Well, if that were true you'd have to go find one, which would probably be a pain." she says. Apparently she doesn't have much confidence in her looks.
"And no heirs either, so really this is the most reasonable agreement." she says with a grin.

Cafe 124

"Generally when you're without heir, the traditional promise is for your firstborn. And I refuse to give that first fallacious statement any more recognition than this sentence." He harrumphs artistically, but a grin breaks through his grumpy facade. "Would you mind if I followed you about a while, watched as you worked and improved? Things can get a bit... samey, as the time goes on unless you make your own fun."

[Deathkeeper]

Cafe 124

Pat shrugs.
"Sure, go ahead. You can help me spot people who might be willing to try out a wish or two. I don't always have good luck with that." she offers.

[Cyber Punk]

[Midnight Park]

Spoiler: LENGTH SPOILER (Quote)

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[QUOTE=Rebonack;18824746]Well!

If you're looking for a pleasant walk slash harrowing adventure then this is certainly the right place. The park has a surreal, almost ethereal feel to it, beyond what one would normally expect from a forest filled with monolithic trees, fields of ferns, streams of dark water, and alien mushrooms and wildflowers popping up everywhere. The trees are all dark, towering things, their trunks as black as pitch as though they had been burned. Amidst the titanic conifers stand smaller, but still impressive, vine maples, their spidery branches reaching off in every direction, their boughs thick with sheets of faintly luminescent Spanish moss.

Wildflowers and mushrooms alike glow in a rainbow of neon colors. Orange and yellow and purple and red and delicate white. Where once the forest was filled with naught but death and oppressive gloom, the floor is now bursting with ghostly, otherworldly color.

Someone has really be working hard at making this place pleasant to visit.

What kind of someone, you ask?

Well, to find them one will have to venture into the park and seek them out. Skulking around at the entrance isn't any way to begin an adventure.

Indeed, to find adventure, one has to seek it. "Let's explore a while, Axxie. After all, I don't think this place took care of itself, and I very much doubt we are alone." Sharpe says as he takes her hand. Should she allow, they'd walk into the park hand-in-hand and explore the place, making sure to keep to the paths.

[goto124]

Spoiler

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[QUOTE=Rebonack;18824746their boughs thick with sheets of faintly luminescent Spanish moss.

Wildflowers and mushrooms alike glow in a rainbow of neon colors. Orange and yellow and purple and red and delicate white. Where once the forest was filled with naught but death and oppressive gloom, the floor is now bursting with ghostly, otherworldly color.[/quote]

[Midnight Where's our Call to Adventure?]

Axanot isn't impressed by the scenery, although her player would most definitely be excited at glowing moss and flowers. Instead, she peers through the thick and thin trees, seeking hidden exits- places where they can go off the beaten track. She spots a place particularly full of lumiscent mushrooms. As soon as Sharpe says 'alone', she breaks free of his hand, and hops off the path into the wild grass.

'Not alone indeed. I can think of a way to draw the Rangers out- make them angry.' With that, Axanot squats down, wraps her hand around a purple mushroom, and yanks it out.

[Rebonack]

[Midnight Park]

There's little in the way of grass here. More like fields of shadowy ferns and ghostly wildflowers. And places where one can leave the trail abound; all that's required is steeling one's courage and stepping beyond the soft caress of the lantern's light. Sort of like what the barbarian gal decides to do! As soon as she's off the path the ethereal whispers that drift through the wood pick up noticeably.

Also?

If you're trying to get on the good side of the guardians of a spooky forest, is upsetting them really the wisest course of action?

Regardless!

A purple mushroom gets plucked. Now Axanot has a purple mushroom!

...

Okay, now what?

[Weather Factory]

"What, no!" the space marine retorts. "We're taking resources from a bunch of useless savages. They obviously aren't doing anything with them."

...what.

[Cyber Punk]

Midnight Park

"NO!" Too late, she's plucked the purple mushroom, causing Sharpe to stare at her for a while like she just grew an extra head. "No. No nononononono. No. You did not just do that." He facepalms, then shakes his head. "Why did you do that? No... just... erg... Why?"

"Next, you're going to take a bite out of it." A beat. "Don't take a bite out of it."