Inside 68: Dawn of a New Season (or two)

[Nova_Eclipse]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

Misty looks doubtful for a moment.

"Hmmm, maybe. Can you make heads or tails of this list of stuff that was stolen from the magic side of the shop? The cyber side is what we suspected; enough 'ware to build several full bodies." She hands him a sheet of paper with the list of magic items. Again, consistent with what they've seen so far, most of the items taken seem to be components that can either be used directly to shield oneself from magical effects, or components for spells that allow the same.

[Leostales]

Ice Devil Dimension
The Lemures are a little bit tougher in this dimension, but they desolve after a few punches or so. Blackwall points in a direction. "Now that I've got my bearings, I'd say that way."

[House Hunters]
Anatya is not in the least bit surprised. She just looks at the body under the sheet as if it were a turnip she was about to cut. Might as well get this over with, she thinks as she lifts the blanket.

Spoiler: ooc

Show

I'll try to write posts for Palace and Industrial soon.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Streets]

Sam grins and leads Lucy to another stall. This one is full of cloth. Tapestries, curtains, clothes, silks. A plump, matronly drider looks kindly at them, awaiting a decision.
"So...what do you think would look good on me?"

[Dib & Dob & Dib]

Now Melvin really looks embarrassed.
”Um I actually never did that either. So...I guess we’re walking or getting...bikes.” But bikes probably can’t support sudden size changes. And being a were-rhino, it’s no secret that Ithuriel is one of the largest were-creatures on the force. So, that’s big.
”Oh, Officer Ithuriel. I’ve been told we’re ah, comparable. But it’s not important. We should um, keep going.”

The quartermaster is a very muscular reptilian person with colorful scales. She’s happy to hook up the two officers with their basic gear, radios, and sidearms, if they want them. Dobbers takes one, though the quartermaster is aware Dibbles hasn’t carried one before. All their devices seem to be modified to have large buttons and a lack of grips or guards that might hinder their use of the user’s hands were to increase in volume.

[Golden Flock Orphanage]

Just so, Red. This seems to be going rather well.
More of that gross sludge seems to be slopping up under the other doors, but it is moving terribly slow. Even burdened as she is, there should be no problems in escaping the basement before they manage to bypass the doors.
Though, she may have to help Ithuriel, Mo, and the boy up through the hole again unless the former two of some means of doing so themselves. No one ever bothered to find the stairs down here.

The be-suited man obligingly makes his exit within easy sight of Ithuriel, at a smooth and sedate pace clearly designed to be as unalarming as possible. Maybe even the slightest bit relieved?
He can float himself up through the hole, too, if need be and no one freaks out about it.

Really, as long as no one dallies...the events here in the orphanage appear to be over and done. The place should probably be burned down to be on the safe side, particularly the basement, but no last secret boss of an enemy seems to be presenting itself as the group makes their escape.

Maybe sometimes things just have a simple conclusion?

Golden Flock Orphanage

Once Mo gets to the hole, she'll crouch down, concentrate on her legs, and then leap up. Hopefully her landing wouldn't be too heavy for the damaged flooring above. If it is, she'll fall to make sure she lands on her back. If not, she'll walk out the front door. She still had to question the officers about the babysitter.

She felt like she wasn't going to like the answers.

Intersection HQ

"Oh, no. I don't mind waiting." Brokenfang says, still sounding all-too-happy as if she had expected this. But instead of going into a holding room, she'll just turn on her heel and lean back against the front desk so she can tap her foot and hum a tune. Ithuriel might be keen enough to notice that Brokenfang is tallying the number of officers and weapons in the room, as well as scoping all possible directions she can go. She wasn't likely going to allow herself to be corralled into a small room.

[Streets]

Beware, Sam. Asking Lucy what would look good on you is a dangerous question. There's an almost predatory grin about her as various ideas flick through her mind. She hums and haws and looks through the Drider's wares. "And you're suuuure I can't convince you on the trenchcoat?"

*****

[Intersection HQ]

Ithuriel runs a hand over her face and sighs. "Brokenfang, if you insist on being awkward about this, there's only one way it's going to turn out. I- ugh, it's not like they can even let you walk back out if your warrant isn't suspended. I thought I'd got this sorted out. But I'd really rather not have you cause a scene and have to drag you into a cell myself." Honestly, Ith's already written this off as a bad idea. She's sure to get an earful for this, and thats if things don't get any worse.

*****

[Dib Dob]

"Oh aye, ye migh' be comparable, but I heard she's taken." I don't think that's quite what Dobbers was suggesting there, Dibbles. "I'm na' particularly fond o' cycling either tae tell ye the truth, d'ye mind ta'in a wee stroll?" Not that Dibbles has any idea where they're going.

The way he sees it, it'll take all of five minutes for him to sneeze out there, and then he can just wander round aimlessly and report back to the sergeant tomorrow that they didn't find anything. He'll be okay with that, right?

*****

[Golden Flock Orphanage]

Ithuriel brings up the rear, waiting to leave until everyone else has hopped up ahead of her. The whole time, the burny end of her flamer remains fixed unerringly on the back of bubbleman. She expects him to try something at any moment. Here's hoping she's wrong.

"Alright. Red, I'm open to suggestions on how to get this guy safely into custody. Mo, I- is there anything else we can do to help you? I'm glad you're standing at all, but I'm still concerned about what shape you're in."

[Morty]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

"Anti-magic, same as before," Michalson concludes quickly. "And believe me, I know it when I see it. Someone's buildin' tin men who can resist dazzle, or so it looks."

[Nova_Eclipse]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

Misty nods, before the shop keeper looks surprised for a moment, then interrupts.

"Hey, like, one of my locator tags just went active again, detective dude and dudette. I'm still not getting a precise location, but...it's pretty far out. Like, Outside far out. Well, at least they haven't breached the seals on the move-by-wire system I had, if that's active. Gimme a minute, I'll see if I can, like, print the data out. Anything to help, right?"

He scurries off. Misty raises an eyebrow, watching him go, then looks to Michalson.

"That....seemed awfully convenient. You don't think we're being set up, do you?"

[Deathkeeper]

[Streets]

Sam scratches the side of his head.
"I mean...I really don't think it'll look good on me, and I have to get my clothes custom made. I love jackets but I just don't think the long-coat look works with 'belly.' Which let's face it, I have." he says, second hand rubbing his middle for effect.

[Intersection HQ]

Shortly the door swings open and a large shape emerges. A grey, quadrupedal shape covered head to tail in a suit of powered armor made of metal, ceramic, and special ballistic weave. There's a groan from the receptionist as she sees him. A large revolver is strapped to his shoulder with some other energy weapon at his back between his great folded wings. Etched onto his helmet is NR-CAL.
"I was made aware that my presence was requested?" asks Commissioner Richards, who should really not be answering calls from wanted criminals requesting his presence, but like hell is the griffin going to be sitting in his desk all day.

[Dob Dib]

Melvin blushes. "W-what? I'm not- no, nevermind. Forget I said anything. Yeah, we can walk. We're just patrolling some high-class ritzy neighborhood. The sergeant gave me a map. Just head outside and go North. And here." He reaches to his book and takes something out from under the front cover, presenting it to Dibbles.
"Got all those crazy reports of people going nuts. Keep this under your hat; it wards off charms." he tips his hat to show that he has one under there as well.

[Shadowcaller]

[Faith's Apartment]

"...and if I see her on the tv and hear her at the same time, I can get infected?" Having to sit outside in the bathroom with the door open while listening in to the tv in the living room had been a strange experience.

"Exactly. I know this might have been good to know an hour ago, but I just got it confirmed. The virus can only infect you if you hear a infected person and see them at the same time."

At first, her brothers explanation seemed to make enough sense, but only thinking about it for more than a moment and she started to see a lot of holes in it. "So, does that only count speech? Or can you get infected by hearing someone's shoes? Or if they smash a bottle?"

"Erm, speech only I'm pretty sure. Including screams of course. This transfers over electronics though, which is why you shouldn't watch the tv with the sound on."

"What about text like subtitles? Or if I see a still picture of the person speaking?"

"I think you're in the clear then? Sorry if I'm being vague but the report I got didn't include a lot of details. I'd say its best to keep to the radio and the internet for now."

"And stay at home." Faith remarked dryly. "But I need to cite a source for all this, I can't keep mentioning you as anonymous. That the disease exist is one thing, people probably suspected that something was wrong already. But the way to avoid it? They need a source for that, someone or something they can believe in."

Danial shrugged helplessly. "They can't know about me or New Inside's involvement. Just telling you all this is enough to get me in serious trouble with my superiors, but at least it won't start a war. I will likely be fired after this. Perhaps even prison or worse, considering what I know."

Faith sighted and closed her eyes, just wanting to forget about the world for a moment. So even after all this was over she would have to worry about everyone she cared about being safe. Saints, she hated her home-city.

Slowly opening them again, she stared at her computer and slowly an idea started to come to her.
The reporter snapped her claws. "Think I know a reliable source I could use instead of you. Just need to make a few phone calls..."

{Plot Post 7}

Previously: Faith's Apartment
Next: New Inside - Defense Council

[Morty]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

"That's exceedingly likely," Michalson states drily. "But I don't think we've got much of a choice 'ere. This is the only solid lead we've got without puttin' this magic through a lab, and that takes time. We need to follow it and just be ready for anythin'."

[Nova_Eclipse]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

Misty nods, the worry not leaving her expression.

"I suppose you're right. We'll just have to be extra careful, then."

The shop owner returns after another moment, a sheet of paper in hand. On it, there's a map that's been printed off, along with GPS co-ordinates.

"It's, like, a long ways out there. You'll need some kind of car or plane or something to get there; it's long ways from any of the Riftline stations, too. Near a mountain, looks like." He hands the paper to Michalson.

"I hope this helps. Do you have a number I can call if any of my other containers ping me with a more precise location, dude?"

[Reinholdt]

[Scavenger Hunt]

After multiple knocking attempts and several doorbell rings, Reinholdt gives up, glances around and starts discreetly picking the lock. He probably should have expected as much, going after the vampire first. But he was closer than the banshee and it was still daylight out so the cat had the advantage. A few more prods with the lockpick and the door opens with the hazmat suit covered feline slipping inside, shutting the door behind him.

The darkness wasn't much of an impediment, though it did strain Rein's nerves a little. Finding the coffin was easy enough. Opening it was another matter. Even if it was designed to be opened, it was designed as such for a supernaturally strong being with taste in quality wood. Rein flew in the air, paws flailing as he struggled to lift the lid in his bulky suit. Finally with effort and a possible strain, he got it open. "Too old for this..." Rein mutters to no one as he stares down at the peaceful undead slumbering away without a care.

This vampire was actually infected right? He should be based on the info Rein has. Maybe he's not as far along as Mr. Yew was. Or maybe he was further. Reinholdt really couldn't tell, but if he waited until night, the vampire would have a substantial and deadly advantage. Ugh. Operating with extremes under uncertainty like this left a bad taste in his mouth. It was far too nostalgic.

Still, Rein readied the stake and the needle. Unfortunately the needle had to come first. Landing on the vampire's chest as if the small cat would somehow pin him down that way, Rein plunged the needle into the vampire's arm and depressed the plunger to pull out the vampire's blood. Vampires are notoriously heavy sleepers, practically in a supernatural coma during the day but even this roused the slumbering bloodsucker.

"GAH, WAIT!" Rein says, panicking and thrusting the stake down into the vampire with a heavy thunk, ceasing the creature's movements in short order. There's a second flash of panic as Rein scrambles to remove the syringe before it becomes contaminated. He's fairly confident he got to it in time as he looks at the crimson liquid and drops the whole thing into a bag and seals it. He glances apologetically at the vampire, who groans, staring at the wooden stake through its shoulder. "Ah yes. Sorry about that. Coated it in dead man's blood. You'll be paralyzed for... well, until I come back and remove it. Don't worry. As soon as we've got a cure for the plague you'll be free. And you'll be fine til then. Unless Godzilla catches the- err... Really, really sorry. Umm... Also maybe buy a dog? Ok, bye. Sorry!"

Finding this one sided conversation increasingly awkward, Rein hurries up and closes the lid again and scurries on out. Three more to go.

[Arkhosia]

Dock Sewers

There is a moment's pause as Blanche digests the horrific scene looming over the cavernous chamber, revulsion filling her features as she suppresses a tinge of nausea. She had long since grown jaded to blood and viscera, mangled bodies and corpses, but the sight before them was a far different category of things to make your skin crawl. But she didn't let her mind recoil at the sight for long, forcing the revulsion away as she shifts back into the role of focused soldier. There was no room for fear here.

"That orb looks to be feeding it, focus on severing its ties to both it and the roof!" She barks, rifle snapping up before firing a couple three-round bursts at the proboscis.

[Morty]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

Michalson nods"I can give ye my official number, aye. If I can't follow up myself, I'll pass it along to my superiors." He turns back to Misty. "That bein' said, we can't go there without some backup."

[Rebonack]

[Blizzard Below]

"A what?" Morning yells over the howling wind just in time for the phantasm of pure elemental evil manifests itself. "Oh."

It's a pun.

A bad pun.

Windigo. Instead of wendigo Since it's all windy.

That's terrible.

But par for course when it comes to equestrian wordplay, in Morning's experience.

She doesn't try to dodge the oncoming wall of ice. Not even a little bit. Instead? That celestial fire clinging to her burns even hotter. The air around her hisses and boils as ice sublimes into steam. She can't really do a great deal else right now, at least not until that portal is closed. She has to focus on maintaining her evocation of the Sea of Glass.


[Golden Flock Orphanage]

Red will be waiting for her commanding officer back up on the ground floor. By now the children she's been carrying have been passed off and are getting screened by the officers outside. That gives her the opportunity to focus all of her attention on the scoundrel who was the source of all this trouble.

"I'm a bit lacking in the restraining magic department, as it were," Red admits. "I didn't come here expecting to collect prisoners."

Not after her experience in the industrial park.

Certainly not after Princess Sunder had explained exactly what it was she had been (and would be) fighting.

These creatures are about as wholesome as the most warped of blighted horrors, after all. Which... she technically counts as. But those are mere details.

"I can have Switchboard patch me in to Far-Step. Teleport our 'guest' directly into one of the holding cells? I would rather avoid riding in the back of a transport with such an unsavory character," Red suggests.


[Super Sickening Sewer Surprise]

Geneva gags at the sight.

Really.

What else would you expect her to do?

~I'm going to start pulling some of these people down. Some of them might not be... dead yet,~ comes her telepathic message, heavy with grief, revulsion, and some trace of fear. She's trying her best to keep her feelings under control, here. When you're a psychic type, keeping your feelings in check is pretty important for the safety of everyone around you.

The mew, still encased in her bubble-barrier and still sporting a nice fiery color scheme zips up toward one of the cocoons. She'll prod at it a bit mentally to see if it reacts with screaming, flailing, and teeth. If the reaction just seems to be discomfort, she'll quickly slice it open with some precision-applied psychokinetic force. But if it DOES freak out?

Well.

Then the flamethrower is going to be coming out again.

~Please be okay...~


[House Hunters]

...there's nothing under the sheet.

Nothing but empty air, a feeling of bone-chilling cold, and echoes of terror.

"Wuh oh," Duskglow mutters as the various drawers in the room begin rapidly opening and slamming shut.

Looks like an angry ghost.

"Keep looking! Find the remains fast!" Alexa says as she ducks under a flying chair.


[Abrajin's Library]

The door is opened!

And as soon as it is opened Myriam suddenly perks up as her connection with the little lost Derelith is restored. She immediately begins heading straight toward the totally normal and not at all unusual lamb.

And in the room proper?

There are sacks of grain.

Many, MANY sacks of grain. Also bins of grain. And barrels of grain. And shelves full of jars filled with (you guess it) grain. Each container looks to have at least one book buried in the grain on the subject of that particular grain type. Facts, tips for cultivation, superstitions surrounding it. The works.

There's a heavy taste of rice dust in the air. Lighting an open flame might not be wise.

At a small table sits a somewhat cartoonish looking vampire eating a bowl of cereal. Sitting across from him is an equally cartoony ghost doing the same.

The scent of the room is rather dry, but not musty. However, there's a distinctive sweet smell wafting over from behind a large collection of barrels.

The sound of grinding fills the air as grain constantly cascades into a massive mill that appears to be turning of its own accord. Flour pours out of it, filling sacks that are dutifully carries away by a small army of little black fuzzy things.

Part of the room is completely obscured by tall, waving stalks of corn ripe for harvest.

There's only one exit to this room, apart from the Exit.

City

The lamb comes rushing over to the shepherd and bleats a sigh of relief. "Thanks for the help mister... robot?" Myriam says, quite a bit more lucid now.

[Nova_Eclipse]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

Misty nods and puts a finger up to her ear. The shopkeep nods as well.

"That would be, like, awesome, dude!"

Misty blinks and looks to Michalson.

"HQ is authorizing us to go ahead. There's a chopper waiting for us at the local precinct, and they're going to send a SWAT unit in a separate chopper, in case they're needed."

[Chaotic Bob]

[Industrial Park - Blizzard Below]

There really isn't a whole lot of cover in this room, unfortunately for Jaahlyn. There's some rather small stalactites dangling from the ceiling, but otherwise the floor itself seems rather bare (aside from all the ice and snow).
Certainly possible to just put the rapidly-destabilizing remnants of the portal between herself and the windigo, however, as a soft form of cover.

It won't last very long though. Even if her music falters, the damage seems to be done here. The portal is going away within the span of seconds, now.
What her faltering does do, however, is allow the windigo to seize back more of what energy was being spirited away from the mini-blizzard.

It takes a second to glare at the scene before it, with Morning Glory literally burning ice away from her, Down lifting Muun up off the ground and scrutinizing the ceiling, and Jaahlyn over there being the magical usurper she is.
Another howl, clearly one of abject hatred, and it begins racing clockwise around the chamber, faster and faster and faster, bringing the winds of the blizzard up with it.

There's a distinct sense of build-up, somewhere amidst the tossing storm. The air temperature has very rapidly passed "uncomfortable survival" to "frostbite imminent" and seems poised to continue worsening with the windigo's acceleration. Morning is perhaps suited to it, since she's a walking torch at the moment, but everyone else...

Down frantically gestures towards the way they came in, then her voice cuts through the cacophony clearly assisted by her suit.
"-lapse the ceiling! We're not equipped-"
Whatever she was going to finish that statement with is cut off as the wind tries to fling her into the ground and she has to struggle to not break her passenger's neck on her own rough landing.

But her recommendation is clear: get out, collapse the cave.

[Golden Flock Orphanage[

Mo's mighty leap sure isn't appreciated by the floor. If she avoids landing directly on the edge of the pit, it'll just groan out this protest. Otherwise it probably will snap under the combined force of her impact and weight.
Which would be unfortunate.
In that eventually: the boy is actually shocked out of his breakdown/emotional release with a panicked yelp.
Otherwise, more of the same for the moment.

On the Suited Man side of the scene, he remains perfectly peaceable and clearly taking care to avoid setting off Ithuriel's flame-loaded trigger finger.
Although apparently he can't help but offer suggestions.
"I could encircle myself again, in the back of a vehicle, if that would make everyone more comfortable. Less effort on your ends, no worries about anyone getting hurt?"
Presumably he's referring to his little bubble shield.

[Docks Sewer Nightmare]

Still pending Nova?

[Nova_Eclipse]

[Docks Sewer Nightmare]

Quin's eyes narrow as the creature is revealed. Normally, he'd just open fire with his most potent weapon first, but the possibility raised by Geneva that some of the people might still be alive gives him pause. Well, that, and the fact that firing something that powerful in such close quarters will probably result in his companions being lambasted as well, something he's not willing to risk. Instead, he moves forward, following Anika, raising his hands and firing yellow beams from his palms at the pillar creature's mouths. He's hoping to provide Anika some cover fire while she moves in.

[Morty]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

"Then let's get goin'," Michalson says, stretching. "I'm going to need some of my gear, too. Like my coat and my vials. Somethin' tells me I'll need all the protection, anti-magic and tricks I can carry there."

[Chaotic Bob]

[Docks Sewer Nightmare]

As the party had begun to move into the chamber, shouting and coordinating, eyes had begun to protrude from largely random points on the orb, tracking the various interlopers.
That seemed to be all the immediate reaction the tumorous entity was taking.

At least, up until a few rounds from Blanche tore its feeding tube-part in half and Quin followed up with searing out some of these eyes with those beams of his.
Geneva's actions themselves don't seem particularly offensive, though by the time she's verified that the victim she's investigating is both not a monster and somehow alive...

There is an absolutely godforsaken abomination of a noise that erupts from its deformed maw, as if someone had mashed the screens of dozens of men, women, and children into an audio program and randomly raised and lowered the pitch of the whole ensemble with absolutely no pattern at all.
Calling it a noise is probably too much of a compliment, as it is more akin to a violent assault on the ears that wishes it was a noise.

Immediately on the heels of this, its many "fingers" that had been supporting the orb all twitch and then flick in general outwards directions, looking very much like a series of fingers all sternly pointing. Their gray glows pulse and the colorful little orb of light is sheered into nine orbs, eight equal in size and one slightly larger. The eight proceed to immediately fly off through the walls of the cavern and the ninth zips off to the far end of the room, where a peculiar shimmering cloud of sorts seems to be forming above the ground.
"FICKLE BIRDS, PREY UPON THE SEEDS."
The mouth cries out and then the flesh-orbs various web-suspensions jitter and jerk, a series of motions leading to the tumor cannon-balling into the rainbow pool beneath it.

This, of course, flings said rainbow pool's contents flying in all directions.
Anika is perhaps the only one who has seen the direct consequences of being doused in this substance, witnessed the rapid and abomination mutations it forces upon its victims.
It is best to not take a shower in the spray.

[Rebonack]

[Docks Sewer Nightmare]

They're alive.

They're alive AND not a skinwalker.

This is... about the best outcome Geneva could have hoped for.

As her friends and comrades begin blasting the tumor, Geneva quickly extracts the first of many victims from their cocoon and extends her psychokinetic bubble around them-

-just in time for the outside of the bubble to get splashed with disgusting rainbow goop. She knows all too well what that stuff is, what it does, and how important it is to keep it away from herself. She kind of wishes she had loaded herself out with Heal Bell today instead of Substitute, but that just means she needs to make the most with what she has.

Namely?

By suddenly splitting in half.

There are now two Genevas, each working frantically to free as many victims as quickly as possible. Each will still be tested with a little psychic jolt before getting pulled inside her barrier. It makes this all take more time, but she can't risk pulling an actual skinwalker inside her defense with all the actual people she has rescued already. The psychic jolt is distinctly unpleasant, enough to give a normal person a splitting migraine and a nose bleed. But that's way better than the alternative of getting left to the tender mercies of the skinwalkers.

[bc56]

Abrajin's Library

The Scout Mr. Robot nods. "No trouble at all
And if you should fall
Just give me a call." It looks about the room, trying to ascertain its nature. The grinding sound piques its interest, and it approaches the millstone curiously.

Ice Devil Dimension

Tethrik takes off in the designated direction at a slow run. He's keeping his eyes open for trouble as he goes.

[Earl of Purple]

Office of Horror

The flaming punch is painful to the little aron, and whilst it's still up and fighting, it might not be able to take much more punishment. It responds by running back through the smashed wall and aiming a Tackle at Tethrik's chest. Ben, meanwhile, is running, shedding clouds of Poison Powder behind it, which can't harm the Aron but should hurt Tethrik, if he breathes in the clouds of purple dust hanging in the air behind the bellsprout.

Pontius' Custom Constructs

That's not what Pontius is expecting at all, actually. He's teaching her, not expecting her to do anything much. Testing how much she knows already and how willing she is to learn, plus see how artistic and imaginative she is, because this is as much art as craft- if not more, in Pontius' opinion.

Lady Arachne's Back Terrace

"Yes, I can definitely do something to compliment these. It'll be a challenge, matching golems to furniture. Normally I match to architecture, which is a different challenge." The wrong kind of stone can make defensive gargoyles really stand out from their surroundings, as can simply being newer and cleaner.

The Palace- Group 2

((You guys haven't gone far, and Wolfy invited me back.))

Jack squawks in panic and flares her wings when she notices the incoming attack on Metalhead, raising her shovel and hopping awkwardly away. The eyes in the middle of her wing rove the room, and whilst she's still not sure how to interpret all the things they see, they can pick up magic. So she might be able to see any other machines in the room, if they use magic to remain invisible- but as noted, she's really not sure how to interpret everything they see, so mostly she ignores the information or can't even figure out what it is she's seeing with them in the first place.

[bc56]

Office of Horror

Tethrik is hit, and he stumbles backwards. He roars, loud, loose objects rattling from the force of his bellow. He steps forward again, breaking into a run towards the fleeing Bellsprout, into the clouds of powder.

Pontius' Custom Constructs

My bad, I misinterpreted your description. Ignore what I said. In that case, Sekhmet is somewhat knowledgeable and eager to learn more, although somewhat shy and nervous when it comes to asking questions. She's bright and creative, but definitely not a genius.

[Earl of Purple]

Office of Horror

The poison's quite a mild one, as these things go. Itching, possibly blinding, and being generally quite irritating. Ben's just keeping running, dashing as fast as his little legs can carry him, aiming to reach patches of sunlight. When in the sunlight, Ben's Chlorophyll means he speeds up quite a bit, and he's looking for somewhere to hide. Not too easy, right now. Fortunately, Arnie's also following, and will open its mouth wide and let loose a Mud Slap, aiming at Tethrik's feet to try and trip the space-demon.

Alfred shivers in his hidey-hole, hoping desperately his pokemon are OK and make it to hiding places as well.

Pontius' Custom Constructs

He wasn't expecting a genius- he's aware how rare those are. Bright and creative though? That's enough to go far in the golem-maker's business. Very far, in fact; if she keeps at it, some day Sekhmet might even be a master. Probably not on Pontius' own level- he really is a genius, at least when it comes to making golems. He struggles at nearly every other aspect of magic, and can't even light a candle without using matches, but give him a pile of scrap and he can build and animate whatever he needs.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Streets]

Sam scratches the side of his head.
"I mean...I really don't think it'll look good on me, and I have to get my clothes custom made. I love jackets but I just don't think the long-coat look works with 'belly.' Which let's face it, I have." he says, second hand rubbing his middle for effect.

[Dob Dib]

Melvin blushes. "W-what? I'm not- no, nevermind. Forget I said anything. Yeah, we can walk. We're just patrolling some high-class ritzy neighborhood. The sergeant gave me a map. Just head outside and go North. And here." He reaches to his book and takes something out from under the front cover, presenting it to Dibbles.
"Got all those crazy reports of people going nuts. Keep this under your hat; it wards off charms." he tips his hat to show that he has one under there as well.

[Streets]

"Oookay, weeeeell theeeeen-" In a flurry of activity, Lucy starts diving between several different stalls, sorting through them eagerly and setting aside half a dozen jackets and hats and some other things that reeeally don't look suitable for Sam. All told she's maybe dug out one or two jackets that look like they'd fit him. She turns back to her buddy and grins. "Well, whaddya think? Any of this any good?"

*****

[Dibbidi Dobbidi Doo]

Wilfred blinks and nods, taking the doohickey and tucking it under his hat. "Alrigh', thank y'fer tha'." He spends a little while fiddling awkward with his hat, trying to get the thing to sit right again. Can't seem to get it right though. "Alreet, well, lead on then!"

[Deathkeeper]

Streets

Sam seems increasingly uncomfortable as Lucy pulls out this series of increasingly garish outfits.
”Um, maybe the leather one? I know I’m blue Lucy but I don’t think I can wear some of these colors. Or a toga.” If Sam squeezes his extra arms across his chest he can usually get a decent idea of if something fits him before he has to ask someone to add the new sleeves to it.

Dibidibidibi Dob

Dobbers takes Dibbles on a scenic route. Unfortunately for Wilfred, spring is in full bloom. Plants are growing, bees are buzzing, and that one girl on the corner is selling ground pepper from her family’s garden.
”So you’re also one of the division’s magic users? Your uh, staff seems pretty nice. My book is uh, a bit of a hand me down.” Melvin babbles obliviously as they turn past the salt and pepper shop into the neighborhood they’re supposed to spend the day patrolling.
The one with the big sign HOME OF THE INSIDE FLOWER FESTIVAL. That one.

[Nova_Eclipse]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

Misty nods, and leads the way back out to the cruiser. The ride back to the precinct is quick, and Michalson has enough time to grab whatever equipment he needs, before he and Misty board the chopper and head for the location given to them by the shop owner. They're joined in the air by another helicopter with the Intersection crest on it, presumably, the back-up that was promised.

The ride takes a couple of hours, but finally, the pilot informs them that they're close to the site, which is a valley between two mountains. Looking out the chopper's windows, there seems to be a group of people in a clearing of trees. The pilot indicates there's another clearing close by where both choppers can set down. Misty looks a bit disturbed when she sees the people, but says nothing.

The choppers land safely in the aforementioned clearing, and as they disembark, Michalson is quickly greeted by another officer in SWAT armor from the other chopper.

"How much trouble are we expecting, Detective?"

[Morty]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

"Plenty of it," Michalson says with brutal honesty. "The thief we're after had enough juice to just up an' nab a whole warehouse's worth of goods an' people. Anyone he's workin' with is liable to be tough as nails."

[bc56]

Office of Horror

The poison doesn't seem to affect Tethrik, but getting hit in the legs by a stream of mud trips him up. He turns back towards the Aron and lifts the nearest heavy chunk of rubble at it.

Pontius'Custom Constructs

Sekhmet doesn't have enough self-confidence at the moment to think she could go far at anything. If someone were to tell her that, she'd be shocked and flattered.

[Earl of Purple]

Office of Horror

Tethrik used Rock Throw! It wasn't very effective, but Arnie still doesn't want to take another hit like that. He'll run, looking for somewhere to hide, whilst Hardening its body to try and help it survive any further punishment before the space demon gets bored or distracted.

Ben, meanwhile, is also trying to hide, and still puffs out Poison Powder, unaware of its ineffectiveness. This means that Tethrik could try to fight either fleeing pokemon, or go looking for Alfred.

Pontius' Custom Constructs

Pontius isn't going to mention it, since it's still very early in her apprenticeship and these things last a few years, usually, and things could change before then. But he's going to try to keep her on-board for those few years, offering encouragement and praise whenever it looks like she needs it.

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Streets]

"Oooh, yeah, I dunno why I pulled any more out after that leather one, honestly. Although they did also have it in brown, dark brown, dark red, dark blue, dark green, dark purple, dark pink, dark grey and darker grey if black isn't really your thing." Lucy sorts through the pile of clothes to fish out the black leather jacket in question, offering it up for Sam to try. In fairness, she has at least judged his size quite accurately, and look! It has two unzippable slots for extra arms! They're not quite sleeves, but no modification is needed for it to at least be wearable for him!

*****

[Dib Dob Dob Dib]

Poor Dibbles. With every fresh sneeze-inducing horror he gradually gets quieter and quieter, more and more nervous, his words short and quick as he tries to avoid setting himself off.

He's managed so far. Just about. But luck will only last him so long.

"I s'ppose it's somethin' ay've jes' always had a knack fer. But I'm nae anythin' special."