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http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/api.php?action=feedcontributions&feedformat=atom&user=Megkitty87 Final Kingdom MUSH - User contributions [en] 2026-04-07T20:29:57Z User contributions MediaWiki 1.24alpha http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-12-17T22:26:10Z

<p>Megkitty87: /* Acquaintances */</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> |footer=Discovered lightcycles and loves them - God/Faram/etc. help us all.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and his brothers were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> =Relationship Chart=<br /> ==Family==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Laurana "Laurie" Celene Taylor<br /> | Sister (NPC)<br /> | "..... I fear I have wronged you too greatly to expect your forgiveness, even if I had only the best of intentions at the time. I should have known better, and I hope that you yet live that I might make amends for my ignorance..."<br /> |-<br /> | Johnathan Taylor<br /> | Brother-in-law (NPC)<br /> | "...I only wish I'd seen the goodness in your heart sooner, and pray that you somehow survived, but as a guardsman... you would have been at the fore of the defense, wouldn't you?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Friends==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Mogina<br /> | Housekeeper (NPC)<br /> | "What incorrigible staff I keep! Although I suppose I would be alone in the world if not for you..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Acquaintances==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | [[Faruja Senra]]<br /> | Helpful!<br /> | "You are a good and honorable nezu, and I am most grateful for your assistance... but I will have a most delightful time finding out just how far your patience will go..."<br /> |}<br /> <br /> ==Blood Relatives==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Eric Bartholomew Mimsy II<br /> | Father (NPC)<br /> | "..... We may share a name, you may have my fear, but you will own me no more!"<br /> |-<br /> | Celene Norena Mimsy<br /> | Mother (NPC)<br /> | "You never really loved us, did you? True, you certainly went through the motions in raising us, but... I've since learned that mothers actually /protect/ their children, even from their husbands..."<br /> |-<br /> | Cedric Connor Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "Hah! You change religions faster than I sell furniture! I have no respect for a nezu who cannot decide even on his own principals! ...although I suppose your principals are entirely political, aren't they?"<br /> |-<br /> | Derrick Rowan Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "You... You are as adept at crafting the opinions of others as our father, but I still know you from when we were children. Have you really transformed into an honorable dragoon?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Enemies==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> |}<br /> <br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-12-17T22:24:13Z

<p>Megkitty87: /* Relationship Chart */</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> |footer=Discovered lightcycles and loves them - God/Faram/etc. help us all.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and his brothers were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> =Relationship Chart=<br /> ==Family==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Laurana "Laurie" Celene Taylor<br /> | Sister (NPC)<br /> | "..... I fear I have wronged you too greatly to expect your forgiveness, even if I had only the best of intentions at the time. I should have known better, and I hope that you yet live that I might make amends for my ignorance..."<br /> |-<br /> | Johnathan Taylor<br /> | Brother-in-law (NPC)<br /> | "...I only wish I'd seen the goodness in your heart sooner, and pray that you somehow survived, but as a guardsman... you would have been at the fore of the defense, wouldn't you?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Friends==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Mogina<br /> | Housekeeper (NPC)<br /> | "What incorrigible staff I keep! Although I suppose I would be alone in the world if not for you..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Acquaintances==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Faruja Senra<br /> | Helpful!<br /> | "You are a good and honorable nezu, and I am most grateful for your assistance... but I will have a most delightful time finding out just how far your patience will go..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Blood Relatives==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Eric Bartholomew Mimsy II<br /> | Father (NPC)<br /> | "..... We may share a name, you may have my fear, but you will own me no more!"<br /> |-<br /> | Celene Norena Mimsy<br /> | Mother (NPC)<br /> | "You never really loved us, did you? True, you certainly went through the motions in raising us, but... I've since learned that mothers actually /protect/ their children, even from their husbands..."<br /> |-<br /> | Cedric Connor Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "Hah! You change religions faster than I sell furniture! I have no respect for a nezu who cannot decide even on his own principals! ...although I suppose your principals are entirely political, aren't they?"<br /> |-<br /> | Derrick Rowan Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "You... You are as adept at crafting the opinions of others as our father, but I still know you from when we were children. Have you really transformed into an honorable dragoon?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Enemies==<br /> {| class="wikitable"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> |}<br /> <br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/A_Noblerat_Drops_In A Noblerat Drops In 2013-12-17T22:01:15Z

<p>Megkitty87: Reflecting Eric's newly hyphenated name.</p> <hr /> <div>{{Log Header<br /> |Date of Scene=2013/07/28<br /> |Location=Traverse Area - Traverse Town - WildKat Cafe<br /> |Synopsis=Faruja Senra is enjoying some beer at the Wildkat Cafe when a most unexpected visitor literally drops into a nearby alleyway. Burmecian nobleman Eric Bartholomew (Mimsy the Third) has only just reentered normal existance, with little recollection of Burmecia's fall at the hands of Alexandria save the initial explosion. After explaining the situation over beer (and being nearly incited to maul the man for a brief moment) Faruja offers to help Eric get back to his home in Lindblum.<br /> |Cast of Characters=Faruja Senra, Eric B. Mimsy III<br /> |pretty=yes<br /> }}<br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Traverse Town, with its sky constantly set to nighttime, made it rather hard to tell whether it really was night or not. Nevertheless, a black-and-white spotted cat was seeking a meal from a trashcan in one of the alleyways. Quite suddenly, with naught but a brief 'pop' sound of warning, something dropped from the night sky and landed in a pile of potato sacks right next to the trash can, causing it to fall over and the cat to flee with a startled yowl. Whatever it was didn't move or make a sound immeadiatly, so perhaps a concerned bystander should go check on whatever it is. The something was the size of a tall human, although once one got a good look at him they could tell he was anything but. He was a rather tall nezumi, six foot even, and was quite clearly unconscious. His clothes were rather odd for a Burmecian or a Cleyran - a fine black suit that seemed to have recently been sent through a wildfire filled with vicious animals. The jacket had several gashing rips in it, although one could tell none had made it through the white shirt he wore underneath from the lack of blood, and the entire ensemble was covered in ash with a few scorch-marks pock-marked into it. His black hair was entirely in disarray, a black top-hat in the same condition as his suit laying a half foot from the top of his head, and the tips of his ears had minor burns on them. A simple shepherd's-crook cane lay in a limp and open palm, which oddly radiated magic despite being nearly snapped in two, and the white spats upon his feet were scuffed as well as cloaked in ash. He remained unconscious, mouth gaped open with his head tilted back off the edge of the pile of rucksacks, completely alone. Or... not entirely alone - one who was sensitive to spirits could probably hear a faint, panicked cry for help.<br />Who would respond?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja Senra may not be able to hear spirits, but his ears work just fine. The sound of a yowling cat and someone crashing down in an alleyway is a relatively common occurance for those simply unlucky. Plastinger on a smile as he walks, slightly wobbly, from the Serendipity, the Templar manages to look not-smashed enough as he approaches the prone form. <br /><br /> His single eye widens a touch, as the rat notices what appears to be a fellow nezumi! "Be thee quite alright, Ser?" Calls out the Burmecian, already laying on with a solid Curaga and Regen spell upon the other male. A clawed hand is offered to the fallen nezumi...even as he inwardly cringes. The man's clothing practically /smelled/ of nobility. <br /><br /> 'Even noble scum deserve help at their lowest.' Thinks the rat to himself.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>At the query to his health, as well as the sudden surge of white magic, the prone noblenezu groaned into wakefulness. He sat up, blinking blearily with near-black blue eyes at the proferred hand.<br /><br />"Ah, thank you good sir," he muttered, a little slurred at first, but as the white magic took effect his voice became clearer as his eyes came more into focus. He took the Templar's hand, likewise cringing inwardly at the sheer volume of /religion/ screaming off his armor... although... was he /drunk/? Well well, that was interesting.<br /><br />"Heh, I suppose even Churchnezu indulge in these trying times. Eric Bartholomew at your-" he began to give a flourishing bow, but as he did so he noticed two things. One, the hat he was reaching for was no longer on his head. Two... his suit was ruined.<br /><br />"/Sweet Mother of Mercy!/" he loudly squeaked at this latter observation, eyes radiating honest surprise and indignation at the state of his attire as he jumped about a half foot into the air. He froze momentarily, emotion suddenly vacating his eyes as his expression went rigid and calculated. He smiled warmly, although it never quite met those eyes that appeared to be naught but a pair of marbles at the moment, and said, "Well, I suppose you chased off whatever foul beast did this to me, so I suppose I owe you my gratitude. Might I inquire as to what that explosion from earlier today was abou-"<br /><br />He blinked, noticing the architecture for the first time, and his eyes took up a look of honest confusion as he looked around and muttered to himself, "...This isn't Burmecia..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Well met Ser Bartholomew. Lord guide thee and protect thee! Temple Knight Faruja Senra, likewise. Yes, if I have but one vice, 'tis..." Returns the rat, not bothering with the bows for the moment as he looks the man over. Frowning, he finally notes the soot and general /burnt/ look. Then, his fellow countryman shrieks, causing the Templar to wince and cover his ears. Alcohol and sensitive ears don't mix well with sounds. <br /><br /> "Dear Lord! Come now, be calm! 'Tis hardly a...beast, Ser?" Understanding, at least in part, dawns. For a moment, the rat looks chilled. "No, 'tis not Burmecia at all I am afraid. Come with me." In but a few motions, there's a set of green robes draped over Eric to cover the damaged suit, as well as the rest of the bottle of booze he'd been drinking. Eric will need it more than him. <br /><br /> Faruja starts leading Eric to the Wildkat Cafe,pulling up a chair for the man, then depositing himself in one. <br /><br /> "What was the last think you can remember? This is the town of Traverse. If...'twas of home..." He can't hate the man right now, if his theory's correct. A deep sigh. "'Tis no more. The Alexandrians destroyed it."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Thoroughly confused now, Eric allows Ser Senra to drape him in robes and guide him, the soot-covered male taking a sniff of the bottle handed to him and making a bit of a face. Eric wasn't entirely a fan of beer... or drinking after others. He held onto the bottle, though, for no particular reason other than the feeling of cold dread radiating off of Ser Senra. Not Burmecia? That was perposterous - he was walking from the merchant's district not several hours ago... according to his assumption based on the sky. And where /was/ the rain that perpetually cast down on their fair city of birth? The cold dread was contagious, and Eric's only defense was to blithely ignore it. He accomplished this by inspecting the architecture with a little more awareness - it wasn't terribly dissimilar to that of Lindblum, but dissimilar enough that he could dismiss that theory. He'd lived in Lindblum for two years, after all.<br /><br />Upon entering the bar and being pulled a seat, Eric took it, setting the bottle of alcohol down on the table. He didn't think he'd have need of it. That feeling lasted for not even a second after Ser Senra's report.<br /><br />"Destroyed???" he asked, incredulous, then chuckled and said, "Don't be ridiculous, Burmecia can't be gone, and the Alexandrians have no reason..."<br /><br />Even so... Eric took a swig of the beer, and even as he tried to arrange his face into blithe amusement (after making a face at the taste of the beer), the glass mask over his eyes cracked, showing the creeping fear of the truth.<br /><br />"The last I remember... I was walking from the merchant's district - I'd spent two years in Lindblum, you see, and only just got back, so I needed some furnishings for a house and wares for the store - and there was an explosion off in the poor quarter..." he remained in ruminative silence, eyes taking on a distant look. Then he blinked, looked at Faru, and said with a shrug as he took another swig, "'Tis all..."<br /><br />That... wasn't entirely true. After the memory of the explosion, Eric could feel a wall of fear, panic, screaming, chaos, and... He was afraid to look any farther.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja sighs, shivering lightly as he sits. Remembering the horrible truth all too vividly, he lets his fellow nezumi slowly wake up. Part of him wants to leave Eric ignorant of it all. But he knows deep down it will only hurt his countryman in the long run. Better to give him the blunt, honest truth now than to let him be shocked into it later at the worst possible time. <br /><br /> Though his face is a stern mask, his tail trembles as fear, loss, and rage fill him upon recalling those days. "No doubt. The Alexandrians assaulted the walls, took them upon our weakest point; the poor distract. Once breached, they called upon their fell heartless and Black Mage Daemons, whom consumed and lit aflame civilian and soldier alike. By the time myself, Lady Fray, and the rest of my squad arrived, the entire area was swarmed. We were ambushed while trying to lead several of the Sisters of Silence and other civilians to safety." <br /><br /> A grin, humorless and bitter marks his muzzle. "...His Highness and the Royal Dragon Knights fled the city. 'Twas the last before my sight, aside from my squad being devoured as the Alexandrian soldiers looked on. Then, those Mages, well..." Faruja motions to his bandaged head.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric nodded numbly to himself as he listened to Ser Senra's explanation of events - it made perfect logical sense, if one ignored the lack of motive. He'd heard rumors in Lindblum that the Alexandrian Queen was... odd... so perhaps she /had/, in fact, snapped. Or mayhaps not entirely, to have successfully sacked the entirety of Burmecia.<br /><br />"I suppose it does make sense - they must have swept through rather quickly to catch me up in it where I was..." Eric said, taking the edge of a sleeve of his ruined suit between two figners. He rather doubted he'd ran /towards/ the battle... except perhaps for one thing, but even then he'd never fancied himself a brave enough nezumi.<br /><br />At Faru's accusation towards the King, however, Eric narrowed his eyes in a confused and mildly irked manner as he said, "I doubt our King would have abandoned Burmecia lightly... or with anything less than a heart weighted down in sorrow for those left behind. Was he right there with you in the poor district? Did you see some look of cowardice cross his brow as he turned with his Dragon Knights in retreat?"<br /><br />He folded his arms then, and quirked an eyebrow at Ser Senra as he observed, "It sounds to me like you wish to place blame at his feet."<br /><br />Eric wondered to himself when he became the King's staunch defender - he'd become a bit infamous in Lindblum for making jokes about His Royal Highness, and had begun to attain the same reputation in Burmecia. He had never, however, been terribly afraid to poke someone in a sensitive spot, and this Templar struck him as masking some sort of rage on that front. Of course Eric always wished to avoid the unpleasant reactions that generally ensued, but that somehow never seemed to deterr him no matter how many times he crossed that invisible line that would land a fist in his face.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> ERic's definitely caught Faruja at the wrong time. Standing up, slamming both hands on the table, he cracks the wood as sharp claws dig into the material. "He left our people to rot when we needed him most! Leaders do not flee while their people die, they fight, or at the very least they lead them to safety! Not run while the city lays besieged!" Booze and the reminder of days gone by have him yelling. Several people stare. Breathing heavily, the rat slumps down into his seat. <br /><br /> "...It does not matter now. Only the survival of our people does."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric just about jumped out of his seat and shielded his face with his arms - yes, /definitely/ not quite the time to bring that up - fully expecting to be soundly clocked by a gauntlet-clad fist. As Ser Senra yelled instead, however, Eric lowered his arms slightly and listened, trembling slightly. As the Templar sat back down looking quite exhausted from his rage, Eric lowered his arms, and he nodded, "Yes... that is certainly what matters..."<br /><br />Eric thought for a moment - he'd only /barely/ avoided gaguing Ser Senra's strength the painful way, so he really shouldn't be irking the knight any furth-<br /><br />"So, how go your conquests on that front?" Eric said, placing both elbows upon the table, his chin in both hands, and smirked with eyebrows raised sugguestively.<br /><br />..... Even he knew he was a great clodding idiot. No, he was not recovered entirely from the shock of Burmecia being gone. On the contrary, this was his default coping mechanism for almost everything - poke people until he finds the magic 'I will punch your face in' button. Funny thing was, he'd always had the pain-tolerance of a paper napkin. Another funny thing was that he had a similarly low tolerance for most things /that variety/ of indecent, but he could certainly dance around the subject well enough that none would suspect such.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja's arm goes back, claws out-stretched, the Burmecian looking just about to remove the noble's face. Just as he's about to swing, with a supreme force of will, he stops himself. No. He wouldn't hurt a fellow countryman when they've just fallen out of the ruins of his home. Even a noble. Even one as monumentally stupid as to prod the rat on the issue. <br /><br /> Faruja sits back down, eye narrowed, smiling. "We have enlisted several allies, and even now make overtures to others. So too do we train with weapons far more destructive than those upon our world. When the hammer blow of Burmecia and its allies falls, Alexandria shall be crushed utterly." His words are absolute. It seems the rat has great belief in his people.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>/'Steady does it,'/ Eric told himself as Faruja's arm went back, fixing a look of nonchalance on his face as his heart pounded in terror of impending disfigurement, casually placing his arms upon the table so he could duck more easily if the need arose. The nezu hadn't even lifted a fist during his tirade about the King - let's see just how far he'll go. His eyebrows raised in surprised as Faru's arm lowered. Well well, Churchnezu had some /supreme/ force of will there - most males whose primary instinct on that matter was violent protest didn't have the discipline to check themselves, and even fewer had the discipline to do so while quite plainly /drunk/. Faruja Senra was a profoundly noble-hearted male of any sentient race, if not merely among nezumi. Color Eric's respect gained... which was most unfortunate for dear Faruja - Eric teased those he respected to a near-merciless degree. He would quite enjoy learning what all the buttons on this particular Burmecian were.<br /><br />"Quite," Eric said, boomeranging straight back to serious, "After an assault such as that we can't well let them off unscathed or with the run of Gaia."<br /><br />At least that was a front upon which they agreed... even if most Burmecians still living or with any common sense would.<br /><br />Oh, and Faru, you have quite forgotten to mention one quirky thing about this whole situation...<br /><br />"I suppose my next course of action should be to pay a visit to Lindblum," Eric said, nodding to himself as he sipped the beer, which actually was growing on him, much to his own surprise. "I still have a store and home there, unless of course Alexandria has destroyed Lindblum as well. Of course they can't have had time to assault them, unless they assaulted both Lindblum and Burmecia simultaneously."<br /><br />Alright, perhaps two things...<br /><br />"Where on Gaia are we, anyway?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Indeed. However, 'tis become more troublesome. They now have allies." Pausing, Faruja sighs, and continues. His tail stills, traces of his earlier anger gone. After a long look at the nobleman, the Burmecian again speaks. <br /><br /> "Though mayhaps you shan't believe it...Lord knows I spent the first three weeks believing all about me insanity...Gaea no longer exists. Currently, only the lands of Alexandria, Cleyra, and Lindblum remain since our world's fall into Darkness. It resides within the 'World of Ruin', a mixture of multiple lands that hath survived their own world's fall. This is the land of Traverse, a seperate place, whereupon many worlds meet...and those lost oft turn up. Such as thyself, for instance. Though Burmecia's fall may seem as yesterday, 'twas more than a year's passing for myself." <br /><br /> Letting it all sink in for a moment, he nods. "Go to Lindblum, the Alexandrians and their allies Baron and the Empire hath naught conquered it yet...though methinks 'tis only a matter of time before they strike. Should it be necessary, I shall provide transportation." Offers the rat.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric sighed. "Is it not always thus?" It seemed that, every time one enemy appeared, ten more sprang up behind it. Not that Eric had ever fought before, at least to his recollection.<br /><br />As Ser Senra recounted the absurd impossibility of the world they now found themselves in, Eric's eyes grew larger and larger, his brows knitting together first in perplexity, second in concern, and finally ended in complete and utter incredulity. His head tilted to one side, and had his brain melted as he felt it had it would have come dribbling out of his ear.<br /><br />"Do... do you honestly expect me to believe that we are presently sitting in one of several interconnected multiverses, and that I have been asleep God knows where for the past /year/???"<br /><br />And then Eric did something that would probably startle several bar patrons. He laughed, in great, rolling, squeaky, utterly hysteric giggle-fits. Several probably wondered if Chip and Dale were somewhere close by pulling pranks on the unsuspecting, but likely not - this was nezu-laughter... or at least Eric's laughter. If nezu laughed such they probably typically grew out of this squeaky laughter. After about a minute of completely and utterly losing his head, Eric's laughter suddenly cut off, and he sat up, adjusted the greed robes back upon his shoulders, and cleared his throat, "My apologies... I have no reason to disbelieve you aside from that... well... it /sounds/ like rather a large piece of insanity to be the least bit true."<br /><br />At the offer of transportation, Eric momentarily appeared to be about to politely decline but, after a moment more of thought, he sighed, "I suppose that would be best - if what little remains of Gaea is truly hodge-podged in with the remains of other worlds, I would likely get lost navigating it on my own."<br /><br />He reached into his pocket, saying, "The least I can do is cover your bar tab, it-" but he cut off as he withdrew a hand and looked at the distinct not-gil-ness of the bits of paper in his hand. He momentarily appeared as if one about to go on a tirade, but he stopped, chuckled good-naturedly, and said, "Let me guess, the fairies of this universe replace all coinage with this... I do hope this is legal tender..." If not there were some fairies he needed to have a /firm/ and potentially /fiery/ discussion with. While it was true he wouldn't miss it overly much, he didn't much care for pickpockets, and at the moment he had no access to the rest of his funds in Lindblum. He could assume what he'd left at his temporary accomodations in Burmecia were a complete and absolute loss... which was a shame, but not something he couldn't recover from with time. Besides, he was fortunate to have anything at all to return to.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja patiently waits through the disbelief, and the laughter. The ratling expected it. The Templar waves a hand dismissively. "Nay, nay. 'Tis insanity, truly. Yet so too 'tis the truth. My advice? Think naught overmuch upon it. Find what remains of thy life, and cling to it with all thy strength, Ser Bartholomew." <br /><br /> A swift nod, and finally Faruja smiles. "Excellent. 'Twould be my honor to see thee to somewhere familiar." He glances about. "Traverse has never been to my liking. Too dry, too unchanging." <br /><br /> A small chuckle exits the rat's muzzle, and he stands. "As thee wish, Ser, and thank thee for the kindness. Entirely legal, though hardly satisfying. Give me a solid gold gil rather than.../paper/." Luckily, he hadn't really drank /too/ much. Tonight was cheap beer night. <br /><br /> Standing, the rat motions to follow. "Come, let us find thee a hotel for the night. 'Tis only one, and free. Though, do not remain out past ten. Heartless roam the halls. The rooms are safe, however."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric nodded to Faruja's advice to cling to what he had left, that was what he planned to do, after all. He momentarily wondered how much Faruja had left of his previous life. Eric nodded again, entirely oblivious to the oddity of Traverse Town's sky, "Yes, Lindblum's a bit parse for rain as well, but..." he paused, eyes looking distant a moment, but then he shrugged with a grin, "'Tis not as dry as other places." He was suddenly glad he'd decided against moving to Alexandria those two years ago - that would have writ him a grave disaster now that Alexandria and... the remnants of Burmecia were enemies.<br /><br />He sighed relief upon hearing the paper actually /was/ accepted as money, "Good, t'would not do to be a penniless noble," and paid Ser Senra's tab at the first opportunity.<br /><br />When Faruja stands and motions for him to follow, Eric does so rather dutifully, taking up the tattered hat and broken cane he had brought with him from the alley. All things that would have to be replaced, but that would come in good time.<br /><br />"T'would never think of it..." Eric said, getting a mild tingle up his spine as he wondered what exactly a Heartless was. He had an ominous feeling he'd once known the answer and hadn't liked it at all... but perhaps that was only because Ser Senra's tone made them sound plenty dangerous, especially coming from an experienced warrior such as himself. Eric would ask in the safety of daylight... and keep his room locked.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Welcome_To_The_Grid Welcome To The Grid 2013-12-17T21:58:20Z

<p>Megkitty87: Reflecting Eric's newly hyphenated name.</p> <hr /> <div>{{Log Header<br /> |Date of Scene=2013/08/07<br /> |Location=Manhattan Flynn's Arcade and Flynn OS<br /> |Synopsis=After weeks of work, Beck has finally repaired the laser. However something goes horribly wrong. The moment the laser is powered, it starts digitizing every single person in the room. At long last the programs have returned home however? Can they get their user friends out alive?!<br /> |Cast of Characters=Faruja Senra, Avira, Deelel, Maira, TRON, Blackbird, Oblivion, Serah Farron, Beck, Paulo Mysidi, Eric B. Mimsy III, Arthur Drover<br /> |Tinyplot=TRON Train<br /> |pretty=yes<br /> }}<br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The progress had taken a lot longer then Beck was hoping it would take. Figuring out what was known as 'user tech' wasn't easy for the young mechanic program, but he managed. He also had warned TRON there was a strong chance that things could still go badly once they now started up the finished laser and that he wasn't sure what would be waiting for them on the other side.<br /><br /> After all, last he was in the Grid, he was being chased by CLU's forces.. when that TRON... No. He wouldn't think on that further. It had been several cycles since he had left-- no-- longer then that and he was sure that Mara and Zed probably thought he too had died. With the death of Abel.. that... may be to much for his two friends to even handle.<br /><br /> "Come on.." He said softly as he tried to connect the last two wires in hopes to not get zapped. "..just a bit more.." the two wires flickered and sparked at contact, until he was able to get them to charge together so he then could wrap tape around them. "..There we go.."<br /><br /> Beck then carefully placed the laser up on the pedestal, hooking up the final cables, before giving it a quick check. He then walks over to the computer typing in a few command structures to make sure it was all reading correctly. Yeah. He watched how TRON did a few of the bad tests, so he got this rather memorized. When everything showed green, he then smiled brightly, before running up the steps, "Hey TRON! I got it!!"<br /><br /> That wasn't going to catch anyone's attention at all in the Arcade who hung around...<br /><br />******************************************************************************<br /><br /> Probably after some conversation with TRON and most likely those who were hanging around with Deelel and him. Mostly since by this point everyone who was in the Arcade were either friends or people chilling inside the 'closed' Arcade. Beck quickly started to make his way back down the steps in his own excitement, pausing at one step. "I am sure I got it this time. No blowing up fruit or anything." He says holding the apple in his hand. No. It wasn't an orange. Beck doesn't do oranges.<br /><br /> So as he goes down to move to the final step. He pauses there as he picks up an odd sound. He wasn't sure what it was, also there was something funky going on suddenly with the computer. "..oh sparkets!" He quickly turns the corner and suddenly he is staring at a laser. "...TR--" Its all Beck has time to get out till suddenly the laser snags him and does its thing.<br /><br />******************************************************************************<br /><br /> The laser now seeks for anyone who comes down the room. One by one or by two. The laser will get you!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>In today's case, Avira was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was friends with TRON and...well, sort of friends with Beck but as far as figuring out the computer stuff, Avira was only so-so. She'd used computers, even shopped for some, but hadn't been a programmer. Installing software was also kind of limited so her working on the laser was not a thing that happened. <br /><br />She did like coming in and playing the arcade games, though, which is why she was here today. Beck grabs her attention with his little announcement. Curious, she follows after him down the stairs into the 'secret' room she was privy to. Not far behind Beck, she is pretty much RIGHT THERE to see him get digitized by the laser. Already aware of it's purpose, Avira's quick to turn around and shout up the stairs. "DON'T COME DOWN HERE! THE LA-" <br /><br />Her words are cut off as she too disappears.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel has found out some of what was going on back home from Beck, something else from a dream had stuck with her haunting the back of her minds, yet? It was her home she has no idea truly how messed up it had become but it had been home and from her point of view she'd been gone a very long time. It hadn't taken Beck more than a few words to get her in on it. Going home one way or another was something that was long over due for her. <br /><br /> "We;; this is good news isn't it we got it up and running, you'd managed to get it working. As for fruit I think I tripped over one on the other OS once I wonder where it came... from?! Oh so not good!" <br /><br /> She had invited some of the people he?d known fairly well over her nearly year long time in the world of the users. She hadn't expected this to happen the laser gets Beck and rapidly takes him a part digitizing him. She's trying to run trying to warn some oft he others to get out but Deelel is caught shortly after. She seems to turn to a almost block like pattern of herself. Rapidly bit by bit the digitization laser takes Deelel apart and soon there's nothing there to show the world that Deelel save her voice fading away almost in a wail. <br /><br /> "Look out!!!" <br /><br /> Well she wanted to get home but not quite like this.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird took a deep breath. It's been the first time she's been back in the arcade since she's been IN the machines that were in the arcade. She looked around, touching the cabinates to familiar icons from her childhood. Then more exploring, a droped quarter and a trip past the tron machine later she's staring at an old terminal.<br /><br />She can tell it's been used. She knew her hardware and had worked on going through a lot of vintage stuff over the years. Touch interface in the glass, impressive uptime. As in impossibly fantastic uptime.<br /><br />Then suddenly LAZOR!<br /><br />"OK." She looked around once the sensation ended and she was somewhere else. "This... is not good." She was shaking trying to keep from going bonkers. "This is very not good. Big huge laser under the arcade. Big huge server." Deep breath. "Hello? Am I alone in crazyland?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira wasn't quite as into the video games as Avira was, but she did like to watch and hang out with her friends, TRON and Deelel. She was dressed in street clothes to fit in around Manhattan, not exactly expecting to get LASERED or anything. Manhattan was one of the few places now that she felt pretty darn safe, especially with Avira beside her. <br /><br /> Whech Beck calls from the basement about something or other working, Maira sets down what she was doing (knitting) and scrambles after Avira. "Hey what's going--GAH!" she exclaims, as she is then zapped. Well, she knows what this means! <br /><br /> Then she wonders if there will be cake.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja is here with friend and fellow Shard Seeker Deelel! He's honestly curious about the Program's world, and wouldn't miss an opportunity to see what it's all about for anything. Besides, a distraction from his recent troubles would do him well! It helps that he has other friends too, some he hasn't seen in a while at that. <br /><br /> Ear-perk. Two voices, one familiar and the other not, has the Templar performing the thing that many people adverse to long term survival doing; running towards the shouting. Spear and all, glowing, the Burmecian calls out. "Ser! Deel!" Leap! Down the stairs! <br /><br /> "By the Lord, what is the...oh bloody he..." Squeak! <br /><br /> Digitizer uses Hyper Beam on Temple Rattatta. It's super effective.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON had tested the laser a few days ago in his haste to help deal with the Space Paranoids incident. This was even after Beck had warned him of possible things going wrong--and that was only to the Wise OS in order to jump into Game Central Station through the portal outside of the End of Line Club. Turns out all was well and everyone went in and got back out alright, but Beck had wanted to do more calibrations to make sure of it. <br /><br />So when Beck emerges from the basement and explains that all is well and the laser is fully operational, TRON doesn't think anything of it. It's when Beck goes back downstairs that things start going wrong. Various cut-off exclaimations pulls his attention back in that direction as people start heading downstairs, and the Security Program moves as well. <br /><br />"Wait!" He calls as he jumps down the stairs-- <br /><br />--Only to be blinded by a bright flash of light and feeling that gut-wrenching sensation of being digitized, a feeling he knows far too well. But where are they /going/?!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Forgemaster Drover is into any kind of machinery or technology. He'd met Maira previously, and was generally known to Deelel as well. His capacity for artifice and understanding of what he'd call "systems design" is well enough known. So the arcade has drawn him in the day before, and for the Sugar Rush Race on a prior occasion. Today though, as he perused the frontroom, the synthesist had spotted this back room's door. Less likely to heed a "keep out" sign with the flashy gadgets around, he stole inside. Glowing lights, a panel or two. Interesting enough. His fingers were just running over a likely-looking bit of machinery, instinctual knowledge in the older man sparking first assessments, when light blotted out his world. <br /> <br />He had seen others around, but honestly with a piece of 'tech in the room, Arthur has eyes for little else. <br /> <br />When the smoke - and mirrors - clear, he's running his hands over his torso to check that it is still there. It is not. <br /> <br />Or rather, his satchel, equipment, items - represented but not the same. His clothes are glowing around the sleeves. Gaudy but secondary to the larger problem. "That was quite a thing." He assesses his surroundings with a trapper's trained eye. <br /> <br />Routes of egress and access. In his younger days, he was renowned as a monster hunter, now he's renowned for never running. Arthur leans against the nearest safe thing he can find to lean against, and tries to take it in and get his breathing under control.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron heard the commotion going from the arcade. Deelel, which she had found to be around along with recent events in the Game world. She spent some time playing with the machines too, a bit impressed with some of the games. She spent a bit of time on the Sugar Rush racing game too, since she actually inside of it before. She figure that maybe she can train with it where she won't get deleted if she messes up at least.<br /><br />But then there's shouts coming from the back room. It gets her curious, and a bit worried... and noone actually seems to finish their sentences for some reason. Maybe they are unconcious, and need healing? Well, let's go take a l-<br /><br />LAZER!!!!<br /><br />-.-<br /><br />She should have known better. She really doesn't understand much about these digital worlds, even ifs he has the feeling she's been here before. A pink haired girl, that might fit more in the aforementionned candy land game, now part of the digital world. At least she didn't trip her way in like some of the others, fortunatly enough. No rat pancake under her relatively light weight at least, but she does offer him a hand up "You have any idea what's going on here?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric was distracting himself by inspecting the artwork on an arcade machine - /How delightfully colorful!/ he thought secretly to himself - when suddenly a familiar shout rang out.<br /><br />"Ser Senra???" the Burmecian nobleman said, nervously walking towards the source of the sudden commotion. Yes, he had heard various other shouts, but he'd not thought much of it until Faruja's. He hadn't known the Templar long, but he didn't seem one prone to exclamations without reason (that weren't some religious speech, at least). He started walking at a brisker pace now, as more people sounded like they were disappearing.<br /><br />"Ser Senra, if this is a practical joke then I must say for a Templar you have rather a rather interesting and tricky group of friends!"<br /><br />Eric rather liked practical jokes - mostly playing them - but he didn't like being the victim of one involving fright. When he reached the doorway to the room, he gave pause, then inquired, "Ser Senra?"<br /><br />He hesitated a moment, then went down, looked around, and managed to say, "Ser Senra, this really isn't-" ZAP!<br /><br />He gave an awkward squawk of alarm as he found himself suddenly elsewhere, but suddenly noticed he had extra digits and no claws and no- "WHERE'S MY TAIL?!!!"<br /><br />No, Eric was not in the top percentage of rattatas, so to speak<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi has been there during the whole laser. Really that device itself interested him-- as well as having conversations with both Deelel and Beck about technology. Although the sage from a vastly different culture does not understand all of the specifics-- he is gradually understanding the concepts. Frequently he is writing notes in that large book of his. Irony as it is-- he doesn't even notice the laser-ing due to him writting. Even during the entire process he continues to scribble away-- possibly one of the few not to get the immediate shock effect. That comes after his head raises from the book.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck is spat out of the laser and goes crashing across the Arcade floor that was a copy of its real life safe. He slides a bit, before rolling to a stop against one of the equipment cases. He places his hand down against the black floor, before slowly lifting himself up. His hazel brown eyes glance around, before he stands up. The he sees the next person get popped out-- then the next-- then the next. They kinda keep coming really.<br /><br /> By this point Beck is just kinda standing there with his mouth slightly open before he clamps it shut. Once he believes everyone is out, he reaches back behind him and looks at his disc. Then-- all the people here who don't even /have/ discs. How does that work?<br /><br /> Along with the fact a few seemed like they were probably freaking out. While others seemed rather calm. This-- was going to be a fun cycle.<br /><br /> "..Great.. I guess.. that means will have to go to Purgos.." He then glances out the frosty window for a moment. "..and we are in TRON city.." He voice holds some concern. This could be a problem with this many people. He then takes his disc and flips it around before he connects a white site with his own.<br /><br /> "Ok. Everyone. Listen up. First off, you guys OK?" Beck asks before he twirls his own disc for a moment. "Secondly, whatever you do. If you see anyone in red, you may as well classify yourself as dead." He then connects the disc to his backside. His light suit which was black starts to voxel up to white before it covers his entire body. White lines flash against the suit, before a blue T suddenly forms on his chest.<br /><br /> He looks like he is wearing the exact same suit as another program here. Then a helm slides up, before a black visor then slides down covering his face completely. "Third.. don't call me Beck here." He looks over at TRON. "..Its TRON." He almost said that with some sadness in his voice really before he turned away from everyone. "..or as CLU's forces like to put it. The Renegade. If you try to call me by my name. I will ignore you, I will only acknowledge you if you call me TRON."<br /><br /> The Renegade then lowers his head as he sees a light suddenly move through the frost windows. "..and about that see red your dead. You may be seeing allot of red soon." He then reaches for his disc, before it flicks on. "..because you see... to them.. most of you are what we called Strays. Strays get put into the games. You /don't/ want to be in the games."<br /><br /> "Now ready yourselves!"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird looked over at Serah and quirked an eyebrow at the suit. She herself was wearing hrer motercycle leathers thankyouverymuch! "Welcome to..." She gestured expansivly at the inside of the recieving area where lazored things go, "Wherever this place is!" Then a helpless shrug and look around. Curious guy with one eye, Other people. <br /><br />"Hm." More loking around. "Uh huh I don't see a terminal or laser on this end so I kinda don't think standing around will get us back." Calm voice, or at least attempt at calm voice. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted the teal glow line along her pant legs and more faint lines along her outer sleeves.<br /><br />Then she spotted TRON and blinked. Blink. Blinkblinkblink. STARE. "I... thought you were one of the game sprites. Sorry?" She shuffled about. Then coughed. "Uh... anyone know where we are?" Lame question, unsure voice.<br /><br />Then Beck er... Tron. She looked from Tron to... uh... Tron and frowned. "Games? Strays?" This is mah clueless face.<br /><br />She shrugged and looked to Beck. "Well you're the tour guide. Lead on."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi doesnt realize he is even digitized until he raises his head. "What the..." Fill in the blank. Well at least he looks about the same. Roughly. The gold on his robes are now a nice hue of blue-- otherwise he is still a robey sort of fellah. "Never a dull moment," replies the young man-- closing his book. He smiles-- putting it away. Being seconds from 'dead' seems fairly common lately. It loses its sting until it happens!<br /><br />"So... can't we just leave?" wonders the sage as he tilts his head. Mostly this question goes to Deelel.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Ow. Faruja grumbles, clanking and making several distressed noises. Which only redoubles as Sarah lands on him. Luckily, she's rather light. "...Good 'eve Lady Sarah." Seems he's acted as a cushion for the woman before. <br /><br /> And our dear noble friend Ser Eric is freaking out. Admittedly, the place is a bit odd, but not /too/ bad. His armor and clothes are mostly the same, though amidst the green of his robes there's lines of green. A bit hard to see, if it weren't for the glowing. <br /><br /> Then, Faruja Senra tries to stand. Up! <br /><br /> "Dear Lord, Ser Bartholomew! Will you very kindly cease making a rack...OH DEAR FARAM WHERE IS MY TAIL!?!?" <br /><br /> Tumble, thud! The rat is no longer a rat, but a human. He's still missing his eye, and the bandages are there as well as the burn marks beneath. From the way things look, he's having more than a little trouble balancing, as he quite literally tumbles head-over-missing-tail. That cry of dismay does still sound a bit rattish. <br /><br /> "...Oh Faram preserve me, it turned me into a human." Faruja sounds positively /miserable/. At least an ear is perked towards Beck. Seems like he's listening. Hopefully Deel will fill them all in! <br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON digitizes in a spare space and drops to a crouch as soon as it's complete, the circuitry lines on his white bodysuit flaring to life. Immediately, a rush of data hits his processor--data from the Other, the original TRON. A memory of a beacon of light piercing the dark skies, heralding the arrival of-- <br /><br />He rises to his feet, voxels darkening to black as his pure black opaque helmet fully obscures his hair and face. Faint dots and dashes of bluish-white light are the only indication of his identity, and only if someone knows this certain form. <br /><br /><"There iz no time to try getting back to Uzerzpace."> His voice is completely modulated, not even a hint of his usual tones audible. <"They already know we are here. We need to go."> He nods over to the Renegade and unlocks his Silver Disc from his back--strange how that didn't change over as well. He still has a Black Disc on his back, though.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira likely bumps right into Avira after they are both digitalized and sent into Flynn OS. She is not freaking out because she has done this before. Sort of. Not this OS, but she figures it must be a similar situation at least. Why did those lasers seem to have minds of their own? Furthermore, why did every single one of them run down into the basement to get zapped!? Bunch of lemmings. <br /><br /> Maira steadies herself and looks around, frowning softly. Beck addresses them, and she listens. She'll go ahead and still assume water is lava, but hopefully fire is alright? "Guys in red? H-hey, we can defend ourselves you know..." she replies, looking around. She knows a great many people here and they are /tough/ <goosehonk>s. <br /><br /> Upon looking around, she then almost falls over in shock. "FARUJA!?" she asks, running over to help support him. He must have come in behind her, for she didn't see how injured he was. But first--"Faruja you're--you are--oh my goodness!" she says, then hugs him gently. "--And what /happened/ to you!?" she asks. <br /><br /> Maira then looks over to TRON, eyes widening. "What do you mean? Are we in trouble? Ugh..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira falls backwards as she reforms from the laser's blast, landing on her rear. Her heart falls as she sees person after person arrive after her. So much for following instructions. <br /><br />She pushes herself up to her feet, her usual clothing retaining the same shape but now a matte black, overshadowed by the white lines that seem to outline the various edges. "I'm fine." <br /><br />She looks to Beck, now TRON, tilting her head with confusion. The Renegade...ah yes, their first encounter. <br /><br />"What do you mean by Strays?" Avira questions sharply, arming herself with her weapon, the Spine. The Spine is just as glowy as the rest of her clothing here.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Wise OS had been close to home as was Game Central? Yet neither were quite right for the basic. She'd dreamed of home some times when her memory had been restored. Home came to her, she'd given her nature? Was able to look at her own memories in perfect detail yet? It was a memory it was not experiencing home once again. It was not fully logical, yet it well it was true in a way. She'd wanted to go home so badly for so long, yet this wasn't quite the way she'd planned on it. She feels the world shift and everything goes back. She's not even opened her eyes yet but things feel right as reality comes back to her fully it felt right, the temperature, the air, everything felt right she pushed herself up off the floor and looks over at everyone for a moment. <br /><br /> "Purgos? ... Right." <br /><br /> She shakes her self a little bit as she looks about for a moment and looks rather sheepish as she addresses everyone here. <br /><br /> "Welcome to the grid. Listen to what he has to say." <br /><br /> She checks to see her batons are still on each hip and she's got her disc, also Deelel outfit has changed it's now lacking any pretense are being human made as she looks to black birds. <br /><br /> "Strays are programs who have lost their discs and their minds. The are rounded up even still now to be repaired or ... worse." <br /><br /> "No, I didn't leave the grid conventionally I'm still not sure how it happened." <br /><br /> Faruja wait that's Faruja? By her user, it is him and he's looking human. <br /><br /> "...it seems this world has an effect on outsiders like several others. You don't look too bad as a human Faruja. He's correct its time go move." <br /><br /> Deelel pauses as suddenly a hamlet much like the other programs appears over her head masking her identity as well as a half cloak forms about her. Her voice now is likewise distorted. <br /><br /> "Numbers it's as TRON said, things have got bad we need to get moving. We can talk more once we are somewhere safe. This isn't how I wanted to show you my home but it looks like we're going to get a crash course." <br /><br /> She only had two cycles it wouldn't be enough they might need to get a better transport. <br /><br /> "TRON, we're going to need some form of transport as it's going to be a ways to Purgos."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck will let Deelel expain stuff, his focus apparently was on the door and his disc was lit up. He seemed pretty tense and with the other light going through the window.. he was getting very tense.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird Headshook and looked around and lingering at Faruja and the concern and apparent change. "So hm. You going to be alright?" She waited for an answer then saw Deelel pop up. A RECOGNIZEABLE FACE!<br /><br />"Alright Deelel you say we need to move we move. Just... we're a huge group. Do we split up try not getting noticed or rounded up all in one clump?" Curious voice. She had questions. LOTS of questions, but they werne't safe. iNstead she closed her eyes and focused, holding her hand out flat til a small flame appeared in her palm before fading out. "Yep. Magic still works. Anyone need healing before we get going?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi has no idea what is going on and nothing so far has helped clarify the situation. He looks around for someone to test the waters out with. "Nope," says the man as he holds his hand out. Flame to Ice to Lightning to Holy to Flame and POOF! Well at least some of the basics work. That is a strange relief. Noticing Maira, he makes light of the situation-- creeping over, "Oooooh. We are in a strange placceee. Fire war?" Yes. Paulo is not taking this seriously. Lets play a game of fire war-- where we burn each other up until one of them needs BURN HEAL.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The older man has taken his moment. "Oi, lass." This at Avira. "Lad, head outta the clouds." At Paulo. The two hadn't parted on the best terms, but this doesn't seem to be a huge problem. He digs around in his satchel and finds that his emergency supplies are still there, perhaps digitized but present nonetheless. "Likewise on the healing, I've tinctures that can mend at least. Let's heed the warnings of our kind hosts and not risk a fight in another's territory." <br /> <br />The smith has been walking as he spoke. He stares down whatever streets he can find, the digital glow discomfiting, but this is not so terrifying as it is strange and new. He's checking for any sign of encroaching forces. He's ALSO peering into bins for discarded data he can understand, or signs of aid. He's more vulnerable than most. Someone who fights using the environment is off his footing when put in unfamiliar space. "And here I was two days away from retirement." he intones, deadpan, taking a dagger out of his pocket and trying to score the ground beneath his feet in order to see what effect this might have. The dagger is mythril - or it was. Who knows what it is now?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur Drover says, "I've lived a lot, lad. That's why I'm scared for my blessed life right now, but it's a good fear, gets the muscles pumping. An' if ye don't show some respect I'll reach into your claudication and turn it insie' out. Don't think I can't." But there's mirth in his eyes as he lets out a "thbbbbt" in return."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Glorious, glorious hugs. And there's no fire involved to boot! By Faram, Faruja Senra has needed hugs these last few days. Cue hugs without shame, and even a little Reize-esque crying. "My wonderful, wonderful friend, hardly could I say. And...bah, no time!" The now ex-Burmecian glances, about, slowly getting to his feet. TRON. Avira. Maira. Deelel. He feels safe already. He's not sure about some of the others, but the group in general seems tied through various associations. It's a good indicator. Even if there's a noble along. <br /><br /> "Red enemies, and they yet know of our arrival. Simple enough. And quite the response time, I must say. Impressive." <br /><br /> Smile! He gets steady on his feet, for some amount of steady. "Dear Lord how do you humans move without a proper tail..." grumble grumble. His spear is out, and already he's in front of Maira. Tank go! <br /><br /> "Lady Deel, thy bar tab is mine own when next we go out! Er...thank thee..." Blush! Dang compliments. <br /><br /> He tilts his head slightly, already vexed at not being able to move them to hear. A wave of the hand to Blackbird. "I...shall manage. The sooner we are gone, the better methinks." <br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron has been in some of those digital worlds before, but she doesn't know what's giong on this time. Last time she entered through a similar 'laser', but it feems a bit different this time. She blinks at Tron's announcement "Strays? Are they considered... as bad things?" She knows all about being an outcast. She has the reflex of rubbing her upper arm, where there's a bandange covering. "... I rather not stay around to see what happens in person." <br /><br />Not to mention that 'Purgos' kinda sounds like Purge, which is something that happened, and she pretty much caused because of the events there..." She decides to stick close to Mr Rat Knight too.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird glowers at Paulo. "Too flashy and wastes resources we don't have to spare." Hard voice and snappish lady as she checked her pockets, pulled phone out and frowned at the inert black rectangle. "Also my phone is dead." She closed her eyes. Nothing. "Still dead.... but Magic works and we're fugitives on the lamb... or something. I'm with that guy there." She points to Arthur. "It's alright to be scared. I'm scared. I'm not much good in a fight, but i can keep you meatheads going. Anyone else know healing magic?" She's speaking fast now, panic creeping in. "What do you think, magi in the middle, ring of tanks?" Shifty eyes looking 'round. Good idea yes yes?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira looks over and flashes a smile to Paulo, fellow mage and mischief maker it would seem. Maira laughs lightly, shaking her head. "I'd win," she says with a wink. <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Arthur, nodding. "Well obviously, I don't want us to get caught in a fight if we don't need to, if we need to move lets move--and I have healing too. Phew, that's really nice. A lot of people with healing magics and potions. I've gotten so use to usually being the only one," she admits. She is sort of the resident medic for VALKYRI, after all. <br /><br /> Back to Faruja, Maira leans in to press a quick kiss to his forehead. He has obviously been through quite an ordeal. "Later, we'll talk my friend!" she comments. <br /><br /> To Blackbird, Maira smiles gently. "We'll be alright, we just stick together. Someone will guard you if you don't fight well, don't worry miss." Maira has her trusty not-currently-a-rat tank, even injured as he is. She gives Faruja a look, but just shakes her head. She's not going to make an issue of it in front of all these people. A man needs his pride. Sometimes.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi shakes a glorious fist at Arthur, but all the while he is grinning broad. He turns to Blackbird and raises an eyebrow, "Wait-- what? Speak for yourself! I have plenty of resources." Its true, he does. Most of them in sugar form. Of course to the 'who can heal', Paulo shrugs, "I'd answer but I dont want to 'show off', your highness." <br /><br />Finally, some kindred spirits. Paulo goes to nudge Maira, "When we get out of here-- you are so on."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel knew trouble was coming but if she could settle her friends it would hell their odd of surviving. <br /><br /> "Any magic may be seen as viral possibly keep that in mind." <br /><br /> She looks over to Arthur for a moment nodding a little but her face hidden and wonders if Arthur is temping fate with that comment. There's little she can do about it. <br /><br /> "We have to be prepared also please don't use my name. I have not been flagged for anything except perhaps being missing. Just keep that mind mind as well. I have faith in you, agreed. This could be bad, the grid is far more militant now then when. We only have two people who know the region at all, even then we'll still be in a huge group. Better to keep together unless TRON calls otherwise."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Alright." Arthur reaches into his pockets. "I don't trust my potions, my bow no longer remotely resembles a weapon..." he gestures the the old horn bow, now a blocky pixellated monster with no string, "and I'm no mage - but there's one thing that should be the same on all worlds." <br /> <br />What shimmer in the smith's hands are like jewels as they pour form the pouch, red, blue, green, white, orange, all glowing from within. "Maira. These are a result of our experimentation in Gummitech. I managed to bind a spell into the material. Consider them your payment. Each is different, I don't have time to explain. Throw and run." <br /> <br />A pouch, glistening with a silvery shimmer unlike the burlap which birthed it, is tossed to the woman. "Share with those as need." <br /> <br />The items were a new discovery, made of the stuff from the space between worlds. It's probably as alien as it gets, and in response to Deelel's warning, he adds: "Best save them for emergencies. They're about two thirds the power of a spell cast by a journeyman, but you can use a bunch of them or lay traps if you see the delay catch on the side."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric had tumbled to the floor upon entry, and had noticed the distinct lack of claws on his hands when he'd tried to push himself up, also noting the strange light-blue lines on the sleeves of his black tuxedo. His top hat was likewise bedecked with a line on each side forming a ring on the top of his hat, and his glossy black cane had digi-lines all down it. Now he kept trying to stand and faceplanting, because Nezumi typically stand with ankles raised off of the ground, and human legs just didn't have the musculature to keep that up for long.<br /><br />"Strays?!! We are not animals on the street!" Eric exclaimed in indignation, huffing and crossing his arms irritably - he'd rather given up on the rather ungraceful business of standing for now and was sitting cross-legged on the floor. At least that was still doable.<br /><br />Eric was a little jealous of all the coddles Faru was getting, but then these were his friends, so Eric settled for stating with a smirk, "Methinks your girlfriend is a touch doting of thee for such mixed company."<br /><br />He was joking, really, and what a wonderful first impression he was giving everyone.<br /><br />His head perked at the mention of fire wars - he was likewise irked at the lack of ears to twitch about - but he kept his face neutral. It sounded fun, aside from actually burning anyone. He spared a glance at Ser Senra<br /><br />"W-wait, you mean we can't use magic?!!!" Eric squeaked. This was a touch problematic for all the mages here, which he was one.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi shakes his head to Eric, "No. It means if you use magic you'll be treated as a virus. A virus being a bad thing." Lets be honest here, a royal sage from Mysidia doesnt really know what a virus is outside of the Bio spells. He continues on, "Though if what Be-- er TRON-- was saying is true-- being a virus seems the least of our worries. We are already 'Eradicate on Site' to the locals. So breathe. Breathe in... breathe out..."<br /><br />The young blonde sage looks to Deelel, "We are breathing right. This world-- air goes in us, ya? Or is this psuedo not-really-air air? Or can we not call it air, for fear it has been classified as another 'Nono' word and will amplify our potential for destruction from the locals?" Yes. Rules. Blerg.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird nods. Healing and or Magic might seem Viral. Wait.... Viral? She looked from Deelel to Tron to Beck and shook her head."OK. Dumb question. Where did hte laser spit us out at?" Thoughts and ideas bumped around and collided in her head. "This place is giving a very space paranoids vibe. I don't want to be the person to ask stupid but knowing the enviroment might be helpful to us newbies.."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> It wasn't to long until those lights out side suddenly blazed right onto the building. It came right through the door. The sound of marching feet could be heard not to long after Beck had tenses up fully. And soon the door was suddenly kicked right down. Two by two they marched in. Massive wide shoulders and no real faces to see. Their circuit lines were red and staves in their hands that had glowing red tips.<br /><br /> Beside them were much thinner units, with disc in their hands. CLU's forces were here.<br /><br /> One of them spoke up. "All Programs," Their voices were deep and slightly distorted, almost robotic. "You are to stand down and be.." Suddenly they stared at Beck. "Its the Regenade! Then these are.."<br /><br /> Another one speaks up. "Get him and those programs!"<br /><br /> And thus the sudden charge of at least ten different guys came rushing in fully.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The Renegade however was ready for this, so when they marched in. His hand was already tense. He leaped into the air and fired off his disc with a spin. Before catching it, sending it at another guard. Then at another. "If you can fight, FIGHT! If you can't, stay at the rear!"<br /><br /> Then the Renegade ran up a wall before he flipped off and just tossed his disc once again for good measures. He wasn't sure what to do to get them out of here. TRON city was a big city. They could take the back ways and underground tunnel, but they have to get their first.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird eyenaarrowed when the lights went out. No more questions. time to move but... but but... Well when in doubt BUFF. She looked over to TRON, the one in black, the one she sorta knew. and started layering on magic.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Yes...let's, my dear." Responds Faruja to the good, reliable, lovable Fire Lady. Really, who could ask for a better friend? <br /><br /> A sharp intake of breath. That isthe sound of a Templar trying to not strangle a noble. "Oh, she is most tolerant and kind!" Breathe out. Save the violence for the guys in red. If he still had a tail, it'd be lashing right now. <br /><br /> There are good questions being bandied about, though, and the rat listens. <br /><br /> There are people rushing in, however, before he gets any good answers. Kicking down the door, in fact. Faruja frowns. <br /><br /> "Fah! While thy response time is most admirable, Sers, thy lack of an intimidating presence as a whole as well as thy emotionless delivery deducts three points. Seven out of ten points. BACK TO TRAINING WITH YE, KNAVES!" Cue Faruja sweeping in with his spear, stabbing and swatting at anyone who dares get close to Maira.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Yeah yeah yeah," Paulo says-- despite the obvious danger he has difficulty taking it seriously. Digital Paulo holds his hand out-- chanting wordlessly as his lips part. When the hand closes-- a hexagon-like barrier appears towards Faru, Deelel, and Maira. "Running or staying?" he asks the fearless leaderships.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Well, there goes the plan of leaving as quietly as possible... They are spotted. And they aren't happy either. She heard about not using magic, but... there's not much choice here either. She pats Faruja's shoulder encouragingly as she takes a step back, and takes a sweeping look at everyone around her "I have your back, you can count on my healing!" She announces to them confidently.<br /><br />She brings her hands together, looking as if offering a prayer, as she chants up her magic, two shimmering shields for magical and physical protection surrounding Faruja and Deelel. She's the White Mage of this party.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur moves quicksilver fast. Whipcord muscles tug something from his pocket. A weapon? <br /> <br />Arthur has produced a much-loved and dogged picture of his wife. <br /> <br />Yeah, a weapon. He takes a delicate moment to fold it up and place it in his pocket. Arthur doesn't run, he doesn't rush. He famously doesn't rush. The forces encroach and there's a moment's grunting assay. Their posture, their yell, this is hostility both open and malicious. <br /> <br />"Group together. " He hurls a dagger - or the digital representation of a dagger. It flies with surprising accuracy. There is a string tied to it. It has a group of violent orange gummis tied to the handle. A moment later, it explodes into a line of flame intended to bisect the battlefield, cutting some of the enemy forced aside and giving Tron his opening. <br /> <br />But the fire doesn't stop there. This time he hurls a spheroid object overhand, and it lands in a gust of wind that fans the flames higher still and rains purple-green data down on the opposing force. Once this is done, the smith begins to hum. <br /> <br />"Ding, dong didero~ Black coal yellows..." <br /> <br />Whatever the black, faintly shimmering, poorly voxelated object is, it was once a Dwarven catalytic stone. Now it might as well be hellfire. "We all go home, kids." <br /> <br />The flames leap like a living thing, the violent orange probably offensive. No point hiding it now. Once the mirror's broken, it doesn't matter how ugly you were.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>No magic? No problem for Avira. She's trained for this! Some brief words are exchanged with Faruja before things really get bad and she marvels over the whole 'Faruja is a HUMAN' thing for a few seconds. With a few quick steps, she's over by Maira, standing close to her, shoulders hunched. <br /><br />"Stay close to me." she warns her, idlily wondering if Maira was carrying a gun on her now that Mercade gave her lessons. She...really should. Especially for situations like these. But at least Arthur has her back! With /Gummi Grenades/. <br /> <br />The nearest...blackguard is it? that ventures too close is suddenly assaulted with the spine, which is just as sharp and dangerous as it is in the real world. Even without magic, Avira proves herself to be extremely capable with her unusual weapon.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON twirls his Silver Disc between his fingers as his attention temporarily disconnects from the conversations around himself. Perusing the data Flynn gave him, evaluating the images, trying to... remember...? Just /why/ is it so terribly easy to access this data when it is a distraction at best even in Userspace? <br /><br />There is no more time. <br /><br />The doors derez in a shower of voxels, admitting a new group of Programs--red lines, armor--so terribly familiar, but reskinned from what he truly /knows/. His Silver Disc activates with an ominous hum, illuminating the black glassy surface of his full-face visor without revealing the face underneath, and takes a defensive stance. <br /><br /><"You heard the Renegade!"> He finds it far too easy to let Beck take the lead considering the circumstances. <"And whatever you do--ztay together!"> <br /><br />He lunges forwards a step as he throws his Disc, aiming to have the frisbee-like object ping-pong amongst as many of the 'security forces' as possible. He grabs a pike from another, attempting to wrench it out of the Program's hands and use it against he and his fellows, before catching-and-throwing his Disc once more into their midst.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel sees the red lined programs oh this was going to get crazy, this was so going to get crazy as more and more guys come in he disc comes out. She says nothing she's not going to talk she hears The Renegade call out orders and her disc is already armed at this point, she's gong to fight where she has to but she's aiming to not kill just disable them, it's faster anyway. <br /><br /> She runs several command lines boosting her combat abilities. However her friends were going to get so much notice. They are her friends but she just sees how chaotic they can really be. A thought strikes her about them but that's something best saved for later, she's not even sure how Beck would take the comparison. She' now closes as her friends are forming up into combat with the local Blackguard. This was going to be a heck of a welcome back. She twists she shifts she moves to disable as she planned. IF anyone notices her efforts who knows? She's not about to let a friend get killed but ...doesn't feel right to kill if she doesn't have to.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira nudges Paulo back, laughing quietly. "Alright, if you're sure!" she replies. That should be fun and interesting! Better make sure to, you know, live. That is of rather paramount importance, actually. <br /><br /> Maira looks then to Arthur, her eyes growing round as he passes her the bag filled with gummi--infused with spells. "Ohhh...." she says, a world of possibilities entering her mind. Oh, they're gonna need to talk after this! "Ehehe...alright, I'll be careful with them! And I will try to keep my magic to a minimum but its...really all I can do," she says, biting her lip gently. She's no Avira, who has some spells but is also a badass warrior. Maira is squishy. Like, really squishy. <br /><br /> Thinking about that, is of course the moment that the big scary dudes break the door down, assume they are all the enemy, and start attacking. Maira's eyes widen and she reaches for Blackbird to move her behind her--hey, maybe she's even squishier, or at least less used to people trying to kill/kidnap her. Blackbird has the right idea though, its buffing time. She can fight, but its probably best if she stays toward the back, which she does. <br /><br /> The mage smile and nods to Paulo as she recognizes his protection spell being applied to her, and waves her hand to do likewise--though her protection is different. Maira takes a breath then reaches up to press a hand against her chest roughly over where her heart is, letting out a few soft notes that ring pure through the otherwise discordant din of battle. A warmth is carried by her brief song, settling over Paulo, Avira, and Faruja. <br /><br /> She took a level in bard, okay?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira then takes a moment to look toward Eric, his comment finally registering. "I'm not Faruja's girlfriend, silly. He's just a dear friend," she replies with a smile. She's not embarrassed. Amaaaazing.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Well Eric was already breathing, but he was finding himself following Paulo's instructions for some odd reason, upon which he said, "Hey!"<br /><br />But that was when /things/ suddenly came through the door - human-looking things with red lines army-marching through the door! And Eric started following Paulo's instructions anew - he didn't have the courage of Faruja and certainly didn't have the battle experience. He was just a spoiled, rich little merchant who does magic tricks for kids, that's all! Although even magic tricks can be deadly, and with panic mounting into rage, Eric summoned a ball of fire into his hand, lobbing it overhead to strike at whatever red-lined enemies weren't being cut apart by the blades of the warriors.<br /><br />To Maira's comment, he simply smirked and said in mock-disbelief, "Certainly, my dear."<br /><br />Eric, stop yanking your allies' chains mid-battle.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck's own disc comes slashing through the troops. Knocking a few of them back and derezing one of them. Then Faruja's spear slams through one of the thinner guards, and when the spear was pulled out, his whole body crumbles down to voxel of cubes onto the ground.<br /><br /> The Flames impact the others, causing them to stagger back as their bodies nearly catch on fire. They knew what fire was. They had explosion here on the Grid, just like they had weather. A few of them end up getting burned alive and they too, become voxels.<br /><br /> Yet more continue to storm in. The news of the Regenade was here was passing quick and one of them even yells to kill the Regenade and capture the others for the games.<br /><br /> Avira' sword comes in and one with a disc quickly counters the weapon, as one of the larger ones with a staff ends up slamming it right into Avira's hammer. The red end of it which makes contact may send a bit of a jolt through her body.<br /><br /> Though the Dwarf attack was most effective, many of the guards quickly moves away after the first group got put onto fire. This means now that several of them are on the move and heading right for everyone. Disc being thrown, staffs being swung Though one a few get targeted. As it seem the numbers were indeed thinning out.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird growls low as she looked at the guards before running at one of the thinner ones. Suicide? Madness? Nope! As she ran she pulled her pistol out, an old 1911 colt. She didn't know if it would work here, but it dind't matter since it was empty. She just used it as a convenient focus. Instead she leveled it at her target and opened fire; channling fire and lightning through the weapon and sending each in small orange and blue-white blobs out. And then if she wasn't already cut to ribbons she'd try pistol whipping the poor guard with the butt of her pistol.<br /><br />It's only in mid-run that she noticed Thing had hit her. Oh well Thing hadn't actually HURT her yet. So KEEP GOING.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja at once is Protect'd, Shell'd, and Song'd thanks to the combined efforts of Serah, Paulo, and Maira. A nod to the trio, Faruja already feeling better, makes for another attack. It's wobbly, and his newness on his feet shows. He glances to Avira, muttering prayers for her inclusion. He can certainly trust her to protect Maira should his new problems cause him to falter! <br /><br /> Then, there's fire. Faruja gasps, old fears welling up inside of him. He grips his spear tighter, breathing hard. The smell of burning bodies fills his nose...<br /><br /> No. He grits his teeth, and moves that much closer to Maira. Think of /her/. The warm, friendly flames. Not the ones being thrown by his fellow ex-Burmecian. <br /><br /> Frown. "My, my, my. Back to training indeed." Mutters the rat. But, of course, the weaklings have numbers. They must not get paid much. <br /><br /> Spear-thrust! "Shining light, spill down with divine retribution! Holy Explosion!" The heavenly light of Holy Explosion slams down, seeking to reduce more security to voxels. They're not playing nice, and neither is the rat. Not when his friends are in danger. Then, up goes his spear, parrying and generally keeping the heat off of Maira like a good PalaDragoon.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck somehow manages to go ignored. Maybe because of what TRON did. Either way he slides through some of the guards, "Excuse me." Before snatching up a few batons that have fallen to the ground.<br /><br /> The white suited program then quickly uses one of the guards to jump onto and spring board off, before he yells over to a few. "Catch!" He then tosses out for batons to four people. He then flips one of them over. Before he then spins his disc around the area. Allowing it to ping pong off the walls, before jumping up into the air to recatch it and then, tossing another one through some of the guards.<br /><br /> Before tossing out a few more batons.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The Synthesist notices the approaching forces. "We should be thinking about retreat, now." He calls it aloud. No point worrying about being overheard. "We've all got a reason to leave and no one plays the martyr. Play the man instead. Savin' yer presences." <br /> <br />This is directed generally at those of a female or feminine persuasion, and followed by a genteel smile. His voice turns more gruff as he adds: "And if any of you die, remember that a forgemaster rules hell, and he might owe me a favor. Now come on!" <br /> <br />The movement is languid, almost practiced. He pulls the bow from his shoulder. <br /> <br />Arthur is leery. A consummate artisan, now armed with a blocky mess. His bracers didn't manifest. A string of energy springs to life on the weapon, as if it remembers what it is and what it is for. He nocks an arrow, which looks blocky and not at all pleasing - but it holds. <br /> <br />The "string" is ephemera - light and air and little more. When he fires the arrow, he doesn't fire at the forces of Oblivion, he fires straight up instead. <br /> <br />Where the shot hits the ceiling, it turns into a starburst, bright as a second sun - assuming there is a first sun, he hadn't checked and doubted it could be called a sun. <br /> <br />But the light doesn't blind, it's a warming thing. Not magical, just pyrotechnics and a vaporous distribution of regenerative chemicals. Or so it would have been in the real world. <br /> <br />Here it might as well be hope. <br /> <br />At that moment, he kicks backward, momentarily not under attack. Another practiced move as Drover tries desperately to find an alleyway not clogged with the red tide. Above, the sun blazes like a beacon, unafraid for all it probably sends ripples of awe or notice through the system.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi looks back and over to the beneficial spells. A thumbs up goes back to Serah, "I'll leave the defensive magic to you!" He paces forwards-- towards the hordes as he finds a spot nearby Faru. Yes-- right in the thick of combat. His hands start glowing where an orb barely shimmers. "So, you getting used to your new form? I haven't seem you fall yet," he engages in candid commentary to Faru-- flashing a grin back to Maira who he ends up nearby through proximity to her protector.<br /><br />"Whoa," the sage deflects a blow-- returning what looks like small laser beams from his fingers-- held like pistols as he goes, "Pew Pew." Western-Paulo. Take that, programs.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron watches as the first troups are easily taken down by the front row attacks. She looks over to Paulo and Faruja, nodding to them "... Was that all of them you think?" She hopes it won't get any worse than that at least. She has a mind to check on the downed soliders too, not wanting anyone to die either, wether they are programs or users. Although she doesn't know what a 'user' is either. "... We probably should leave before more arrive, we probably made alot of noise and that will attract more of them."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira made a promise that Maira wouldn't get hurt by these! That means, of course, getting in the way of the guys that come to fight her, even if her weapon doesn't seem to do much on first pass. She grunts angrily at the jolt and sidesteps around Maira, keeping her back to the fire mage. Avira makes sure she remains as a tiny wall against the incoming guards. <br /><br />Programs exploding into voxels...well, it's not something Avira's seen before like this. She's seen damage done to Deelel, but it's always been very little. Not complete destruction! She doesn't let this bother her at the moment and remains focused. <br /><br />"This is bad, we need to get out of this warehouse or we're going to stay trapped here." A battle of attrition did not look good. She continues her close quarters combat with that one guard, stepping forward and jabbing multiple times.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON rips the staff out of a heavy Blackguard's hands and twirls it, blocking a Disc or two that flies his way. He sweeps the staff low, twisting to face the incoming reinforcements-- <br /><br />A Disc clips the side of one knee, barely scratching the black surface but a noticeable blue voxelization appearing in its wake. It's not much, but it does hobble him. <br /><br />He drops the staff for the moment and removes his Black Disc, tensing noticeably as Arthur's light washes over him. He can feel the effects strengthening him, and wastes no time in throwing both Discs at the incoming enemy in a constant rhythm of throw-bounce-return-repeat. In-between Disc throws, he catches spare batons from Beck and tosses them further back to the others. <"Grab one, get ready to uze it!"> He doesn't keep one for himself, as he already has one at his hip.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi grabs one of those baton-- things. You know who is a BA sage? This guy right here. He throw it on the ground and says, "Superbot, Activate!" Just kidding. Not cool, Paulo. Not cool. Nothing happens. He picks it back up admist the action, "Some assembly required, boss." Over his shoulder he points the hand-lasers and pew pews three more guards that come in.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Swiping red-gold hair hastily away from her face, Maira's eyes dart from friend to friend, making sure they were all alright before she settles on a course of aggressive action. She catches Paulo's look and nods, smiling. Yup, time for the mages to do some damage! <br /><br /> Though Arthur catches her attention next, and she remembers the pouch he'd tosses her. Aha! "If anyone finds an exit, I can help cover our escape!" she says then, stuffing the bag of gummies into her pocket for the time being, wanting to save them for when they will be most useful (as much as she wants to see what they do NOW). <br /><br /> Maira watches Faruja and Avira closely, shouting a quick "Down! Incoming!" to warn them that she is going to start slinging spells. Maira raises her hands, which quickly ignite, sheathed in bright flame that is very real, heating the air around her for several feet. She throws one hand outward to direct her energy, closing her fist as a fire ball flies from her hand to sail toward the enemy forces.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel even with her experience in user space she's still surprised as she's been able too disable two of the black guards with east, she's grinning behind her faceplate it seems she truly has grown past her original purpose and that's just the final proof of it to her. She quickly snags the two downed guards batons and will toss them out to anyone who still has needed of them. <br /><br /> "Catch these are out tickets out of here. They form lightcycles, that we can get out of here on. I don't want to remain before they start being the really heavy firepower here. Just watch me." <br /><br /> Deelel is now effected by more magic an other powers sending her combat abilities much higher much to her surprise. <br /><br /> Deelel pulls the baton off of her leg and holds out she makes sure it's easy to see how she's activating the bite from the baton which forms in a wire frame about her fleshing out a fully forms current gen lightcycle. Most noticeable thing about the cycle is it almost seems Deelel is a part of the bike herself from how she's now formed almost into it. <br /><br /> "If you used a cycle in user space same basic set up the controls are the same. If you haven't?" <br /><br /> Deelel takes a moment to explain the basics of their operation and prays to her User they are enough for her friends. Her own machine revs it's engine. <br /><br /> "We shouldn't waste time, tanks and worse will be on the way at this rate."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck's own attacks came racing in. One of them got knocked right over, while several more were voxeled away. A few that attempted to defend themselves from the Renegade's attacks suddenly get blasted through by the backside by Blackbird.<br /><br /> A few them started to stagger back now. The programs they were facing (unaware that most of these were not programs at all!), were putting a hurt on their numbers. Faruja's own attack came in and several of them were able to defend themselves. Including also when Avira moved in as well. Then the laser beams from the Sage collide into several of them who were not ready for it and they get turned into voxels as well.<br /><br /> TRON then performed some nice feats of fancy getting a good deal of them corned and causing a few of them to actually head for the door as they try to defend themselves. Actually retreating! Which may be a good thing-- or a bad thing.<br /><br /> Maira's fire then clears out several more into nice voxels, while Deelel is able to knock out some guards and take their batons. As for the rest. They are running away.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja nods towards the others, frowning. "Agreed. So much as I appreciate a proper martrydom, time and place, Sers and Dames!" His head tilts. Paulo speaks. Wobble. <br /><br /> "'Tis not as hard as it initially seemed! One merely shifts their center of gravity just a touch..." Oh, wait, spells. FIRE! <br /><br /> Luckily, Faruja doesn't have to be told twice, that familiar non-friendly Maira heat on his back. Duck! <br /><br /> "Now, about that method of transportation? Oh dear /Faram/ why did I not bring Arista along?" Somehow he doubts summoning her would work well here. Nor does he seem to get the use of the batons! <br /><br /> Until Deel explains. Faruja turns to the group at large. "Human...or program in this case...technology is not my forte." Explains the rat quickly. Nope, he'll not be the driver tonight, Sers and Dames.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi watches Deelel-- taking note of the 'how' and 'why'. If nothing else, Paulo is a very quick study. "Got it," he says with a cocky grin-- looking over his shoulder to see more baddies coming. With a quick motion of his hand, digital wind kicks the baton to his hands. He runs forward-- leaping and kicking into a bike. There we go, there is the BA transformation he was looking for. It revs up right in front of Serah as he tells her, "Come with me, if you want to live," in his most masculine voice possible. Note: Still not very masculine. He is only 19. The engine revs.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Some people already called it right. They need to get out of here and Deelel was already going over some of the cycle basics. "If you don't know how to ride a bike. You can catch a ride with me." The Renegade says calmly as he then hooks his disc to his back and pulls out his own.<br /><br /> "Stay close to me and follow my lead. These guys have cycles as well and some far worse things." The Regenade then activates the cycle inside the arcade. He revs it a bit as he keeps his foot down on the ground. "..and is everyone alright?"<br /><br /> Now the question was.. tunnel.. or Outlands..<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Completely missing Faruja's reaction to his pyrotechnics, Eric grinned as he did a small mental dance of victory at seeing some of the things flee his fire... until he realized they were coming for the rest of them. He squeaked, about to cast a spell, but they were fleeing again as everyone else drove them off. He felt rather impotent, but at least they were all alive!<br /><br />He caught the baton and looked at it in open confusion, wondering why anyone thought it was a good idea to give a melee weapon to a Black Mage. And then Deelel said something about them being their ticket out of here and... woah! He gaped at the lightcycle, not entirely certain he could pilot something like that, as nothing like it existed in Gaia. He looked down at the batons.<br /><br />"Exactly how fast can these go?" he asked, rather unable to mask the boyish hopefulness in his voice. One of his favorite things he'd ever managed with his magic was zipping around in a kid's wagon on an aero when he was eight.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron picks up the 'baton', wondering what to do with it when its tossed her way.<br /><br />She even uses it to scratch the back of her head for a moment... but then Deelel does that little demonstration "... That's neat. I wonder if that'd work in our world too..." Well, if she can even bring the stick back with her, might be fnu to try. But for now...<br /><br />She holds the stick with her two hands, leaning forward slightly. The cycle materializes under her, forcing her into an even more prone position, and surrounding her with that sort of bubble protecting the driver, as she ends up sitting on top of it.<br /><br />"... Wow, that's incredible!" She exclaims from inside that bubble, looking around. She wobbles the stick a bit, and suddenly it rides off.<br /><br />She only has time to go ACK before she slams into a nearby post. She groans, the cycle disapearing and leaving her on the ground, on her knees. "Maybe I'm not good with driving..." She sighs, but puts the baton away in a pocket, as she looks up to Paulo's offer. She has a giggle, shaking her head "Cute, but let's go quickly." She slides up and behind Paulo quickly, ready to drive off.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird twisted around, still firing one handed while snagging a baton from mid-air. These guards were down and so she holdered her weapon and concentrated on the baton. "How does this work?" She shook it holding the thing like a sword handle.<br /><br />"HOW?!" Blackbird's mind spooled back to Deelel summining a bike. "Just throw it? Are there commands? Thought pattern? What?" She was shouting so she could be heard. In the middle of a battle and running for your lives was NOT the best time to suddenly be expected to know how to use New Thing.<br /><br />While she waited for a response she cast about with her healing magic focusing on TRON and Deelel. They were apparently natives here. Priority: Keep those two alive.<br /><br />And then Deelel gives a demonstration of how to USE the light cycle. Oohkay press button and throw. She remembered seeing Deelel do this before but now... Throw. She caught the handle bars right as the cycle formed around her. It felt like a full body glove actually. Shes ridden many bikes but this felt almost like she was laying down and gliding along the road. Pity she always wante a recumbant like off that one anime. oh well. <br /><br />All thought of being chased was momentarily cleared from her mind as she let out a joyous noise. "WOOHOOOHOOOO! YEEAA!" And away she went off to wherever Deelel was headed.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira gladly snags a baton. She's familiar with the light cycles-and by that she means she's had to fight Deelel while she was riding one in the arena a while ago. Carefully, she watches Deelel hold the baton so a light cycle is summoned in front of her. <br /><br />"I know how to ride a motorcycle. Mercade taught me." she announces, leaning over so the bike appears beneath her. "Maira, get on my bike and get those gummi grenades ready. If they chase us, I want you to bomb the crap out of them."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur takes hold of one of the batons. He waves the incomprehensible rod, taking time to inspect it before anyoner flies off. "Avira, this is highly experimental." He doffs his satchel and passes it over to the inventor. "Throw it and make sure you are far away. It was an early failure, I don't have two. A thing should be elegant and beautiful, even if it is a tool and even if it will die in its use." <br /> <br />This cryptic explanation passed, the synthesist waits to see if anyone is tagging along with him, and should they do so, he will take off. In any other circumstance, the old hunter rides alone - keeping to the rear with the surprises still in his last remaining pair of satchels.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira looks up as a baton comes flying in her general direction. Reactively she catches it in a hand still wreathed in flame, though she quickly extinguishes it before it can do any damage. She then looks to Deelel, watching the light cycle appear, her eyes widening in proportion to her grin, which becomes downright maniacal as she realizes what she holds in her hand. Girl has a serious need for speed. GLEE! <br /><br /> She has no real idea how to drive one of these things, but there is absolutely zero chance she isn't going to give it a try. Zero. <br /><br /> Maira mimics Deelel's motions and summons the light cycle around herself, accompanied with a slightly unnerving girlish giggle of utter excitement. "Avira! No way! I'm driving! Someone has to take Faruja Faruja, hop on and come with me!" she calls, reaching into her pocket then to pass Faruja the pouch Arthur had given her. "Okay, we're going last and we're gonna cover our escape, got it? Throw these behind us as we go! Trust me! Go go!" she calls to the others. <br /><br /> Assuming Faruja does indeed hop on, the two of them will wait for the others to all clear out before Maira peels out on the lightcycle. <br /><br /> There are only two modes Maira knows; Stop, and Hold-Onto-Your-Everything-Break-Neck-Speed. <br /><br /> She does the second one, bwee'ing in wild abandon! "BWEEEEE!!!"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira loops the sachel over her shoulder immediately. Only once she has it secured to her does she peek inside. There is a moment of pause as her eyes widen, "Oho, this will be /fun/ to deploy." she doesn't want to pass this object off to anyone else. <br /><br />Maira refuses her ride and Avira frowns. Oh well, if she was with Faruja, she'll be in good (human!) hands.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi revs one last time for effect. Have to have effect. Paulo promptly speeds off with the bike group with Serah in tow. It is kind of like that one game with a hero wielding a sword and princess wielding a bow. Only Paulo has a beard-- and cant use a sword very well. Its nothing like that, actually. Either way, the sage revs around-- banking left and right to test this things manueverability. "Yaaaaahhhooooo," he yells to the digital wind as he drives.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel still kinda shudders at all the voxels everywhere it's just well a mess in her point of view she's reving the engines and she smirks at the question. <br /><br /> "Fast enough, damn fast actually compared to say what your used to for a mount." <br /><br /> Deelel's machine revs she's ready to ride. Sure it's not as fast as her classic first gen bike but it's a heck of a lot harder to ID than that would be. Given there were a handful of them around on the grid when she was last here, now there might not be any of them left. <br /><br /> She revs her engines. <br /><br /> "The cycles do, lets chatter lets get going just follow us and have a little faith." <br /><br /> Deelel intends to ride guard given her better experience with lightcycles over her life. She's also mentally checking her friends. Everyone is okay more or less she does look over to Faruja for a moment. "Well my dear Dragoon lets see how you handle this if you want flight maybe we can provide for that later, but that will need lessons." <br /><br /> Maira, and Avira are all set up it's time to get rolling but she's not so up to date on the grid's layout. A lot could have changed while she was away. So she calls out to Beck. <br /><br /> "TRON, lead the way, boss."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alright, Eric, don't be a showoff. You don't have to prove your nez- manliness by pretending you know what you're doing when you clearly don't. You don't have to try the super-cool-awesome-looking-thing while being chased down by a pack of hunters. You don't have to- Maira was doing it. And Faru was riding.<br /><br />With a grin, Eric pushed the button, tossed the baton into the air... and squeaked in minor alarm as the lightcycle formed around him. Even more stupidly, once over the initial surprise of what happened to everyone else happening to him, he revs the engine to full throttle and goes peeling off in glee, "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!"<br /><br />..... Dead man driving...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja takes the pack of gummi grenades, holding on. The ex-rat peers at the light cycle suspiciously. "Oh Faram, this is one of those contraptions Lady Deel rides." Squint! A foot pokes the cycle. He turns to Maira. He watches that grin spread on her face. <br /><br /> Faruja hops on, distinctly silent for a moment. <br /><br /> Then, he speaks, the slightest nervous tremble to his voice. "...Now, Maira, please let us ride at a reasonable spe...EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" <br /><br /> Off into the sunset, Faruja holds onto bike and Maira for dear life. <br /><br /> Blink. Something catches his mind as he tries to distract himself from BREAK NECK MAIRA RIDE. He pulls out a voxel. Deel's voxel. Blink. He remembers those guards. "...D...Dear Faram this could be Deel's spleen." Yup, he's now thoroughly disturbed. He puts Deel Spleen Voxel back in his inventory.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The black form of TRON seems to glance over at the others if the helm-cant is of any indication, many of whom are getting the hang of using the Light Cycles. These particular designs look strange to him, but he's far more used to... well, /his/ Grid's Light Cycle. Pity it can't take passengers. Then again, as fast as it can get? <br /><br /><"Take whichever route you feel iz better for our group,"> he replies to Beck. He unclips his own baton--oddly just a plain glowing-blue cylinder compared to the more intricate batons of the others--and grasps it in both hands. He snaps forwards as the wire-frame of a completely-canopied Light Cycle forms around him, solidifying into a blue Light Cycle of much different (and older) make than the ones the others use. <br /><br /><"Once we get moving, I will zcout around and enzure we are not followed."> His voice is further distorted, as if speaking through a subpar speaker with a modulator. <"Renegade, lead on."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja is holding on for dear life alright! <br /><br /> "Uh, Faru!? Could you not hold onto to THOSE?" she calls back in mild alarm.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Aaand users are driving around. Beck glances over to TRON. There was a bit of a deadpan look behind the black full face visor. Man. Did they need to get a lasso? However TRON suggest to roll with it. So the Renegade TRON only nods his head.<br /><br /> He is thankful Deelel also called him by what his title is here and he gave a nod to TRON when he told him to lead on. Maybe some of these users will get it, or the first TRON will have to play rodeo with his much faster light bike. "..You know," He says to TRON as he revs his light cycle again. "..when we get to Argon-- you are going to snag a ton of attention with that thing." He almost sounds playful. "..I know someone who be jealous of it too."<br /><br /> and then The Renegade is off, to lead the charge to the Tunnel! It should be a nice one way shot into the backside of Argon and much closer to Purgos and hopefully Tesler isn't-- waiting or.. something.<br /><br /> Fraggin' Tesler.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>At Maira's shout, Eric shouted above the digital wind, "Dear Lord Faru, is now really the time to be groping your girlfriend???" before breaking off into peals of squeaky laughter as he zoomed on ahead.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The tunnel was long and forces were indeed waiting. Thankfully TRON and the others had methods of handling the troops and they kept on moving through. However the tunnel had collapsed in one section and Beck had to find another way through the old tunnel system. They eventually did make it into outlining every of Purgos and right into the old city sector.<br /><br /> Most everyone got ignored, at least at first. Though some started to scatter when they saw the Renegade. Others wondered why there was so many, till they saw the Renegade as well. By the end, the street was nearly vacant, beyond a few who still remained and those few only watched on.<br /><br /> Up high on buildings were billboards and those billboards explained it all.<br /><br /> The Renegade.<br /> Wanted dead or alive.<br /> Assassin program. <br /> Approach with Caution.<br /><br /> Now it was the question if they could get the discs they needed...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja's nose bleeds, and his entire face is beat red. Hands go on the /waist/ now. "Erm...my deepest apologies! Merely...grasped for the most, ahem, convenient and graspab...shutting up now, my dear!" Poor thing sounds honestly embarrassed. Then Eric speaks. <br /><br /> "SHE IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, MERELY A DEAR FRIEND! BESIDES, HATI'S ARE..." Pause. He clams up. Noope, not finishing that one. No need to dig his hole further! <br /><br /> As they pass by those troops? Cue the occasional gummi grenade. Faruja grins. "My, my, my, I shall have to acquire a few of these..." Someone is impressed. <br /><br /> Then, they're in Purgos. Faruja peers about. "My, my, my. 'Tis...beautiful, in its own right." Mutters the rat upon seeing so many large, tall buildings, somewhat reminding him of manhattan. Only glowy!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Riding alongside Faru and Maira-- a rogue Paulo head turns to witness Faru's blight, "Suuuuuuuuuuuuurrr," he goes on-- which should end with a 'rrreeee' but his engine revs at that moment. Despite not being a real tech guy-- Paulo handles the bike very well. Reading the wind and adjusting quickly suits this method of transport. It is a lot like flying or floating at fast speeds. The bike sways with Serah on it as he makes it a fun ride. Sure, they might get obliterated at any moment, but at least he will have had a good time.<br /><br />"Man. He wasn't kidding about being wanted," serious-Paulo notes seriously about the sign. Just who is this Beck? Why is he wanted? What did he eat for dinner?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Despite having never driven a light cycle before, she manages not only not to crash and kill them both, but to actually maneuver around obstacles. AND she finds the breaks. She hits them as the others ahead of her do, though she didn't slow down much first, thus turning the bike to the side to drift it sideways until it comes to a stop, as if she were an action movie star. <br /><br /> Maira dismisses the bike and begins bouncing around like a crazy person. "THAT WAS AWESOME!" <br /><br /> She spots the billboard then and quiets down, looking around sheepishly as she winces an apology. "Ehe....sorry..." <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Faruja, blinking. "Hati's are /what/?" she asks. The end of that better not have been 'better!'<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The Renegade pulled in and grunted a little at the craziness that was the tunnel and in some ways, thankful for the others help. As the people started to scatter, it was a harsh reminder of the truth. The truth of what lies were created about him. Either by CLU-- or by someone who left a mark on him.<br /><br /> "..This may be trickier then.." he mutters to himself, but doesn't continue. Looking back at the others. The Renegade then responds to Faruja, "..Purgos is one of the older cities. It use to be Argon proper.. really, until Argon became larger and sprawled out from it. Now it is a sector of Argon city that-- lower, more.. unable programs come too.. Because of that. There is a rather large black market here.. and not the best of people."<br /><br /> Then to Maira, "..Its ok. There is a long story behind it.. but no real time to explain right now."<br /><br /> The Renegade looked then over to Paulo, "..and no. I wasn't kidding." Then Beck dismounted from the bike, allowing it to return into the baton, before attaching it to his hip. "Just trying and keep a low profile for a bit. I need to go find someone who may be able to help us out."<br /><br /> Renegade then looks at TRON, "..You think you can keep an eye on them while I go see what I can do." He then does a quick head count. "It shouldn't take me to long. They are not far from here." He places out his hand to TRON. "..and thanks.. by the way.."<br /><br /> The white suited program then backs away from the others before he then takes off into the allies.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel was thinking this was one of those cycles and she totally agrees with the idea of getting a lasso a user roundup may be needed. She's going to have a mental image of Tron and Beck with cowboy hats for a while at this point. She speaks up at the mention of Argon. <br /><br /> "I'm not going to like the state of Argon ... am I?" <br /><br /> Even distorted one can hear the sadness in her voice, it's her home and she has no idea what's happened. She ignores the comments between Eric and Faruja, oh she so totally does. Also they are heading to the tunnel thankfully they are able to get through with no fatalities and it takes a while for them to get through but she can't help but look, damn Beck really has made an impression here. She also thinks Faruja is digging himself so darn deep today at this point. <br /><br /> "It's ... home. This is the world I spoke to you of Faruja. Do you see now why only seeing it would do it any justice. It's the same for your world really. They don't like TRON, what can I say they are pulling a grand old SARK and MCP to be sure. As for where we're going we should be able to get what we need to help with our little problem. Her bike returns to the baton from which it came. It snaps back on to her leg as she gets moving with the group. <br /><br /> "Insert foot A into Mouth Port B, Faruja?" <br /><br /> She can't help but take this chance to poke at him. She meanwhile looks about doing head count, to make sure no one got lost.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird has spent years around bikes. She is familiar with their operation and how to Not Die while riding one. Yet eventually the trip ends and she manages, somehow, to cause her bike to collapse back into a baton... which she hides in an inside pocket of her coat.. Then... Deelel spoke. TRON... SARK MCP. These names are Strange... yet hold a ring of familiarness to her. TRON was also Bradly's nickname when Flynn was around. Sark... Sark was't that from one of the games Flynn made? MCP.<br /><br />!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />She... wait. "This... We're in..." She tried speaking, articulate hat had jolted through her brain. "Master Control Program, as in what was running the Encom mainframe and primary network right before Flynn took over?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON drives the Light Cycle expertly, lagging more towards the back to assist Maira and Faruja with keeping the enemy at bay. Usually by using his bike's Jet Walls to herd the enemy into the Gummi Grenades. Turned out to be relatively effective, all things considered, but TRON feels a strange wobble in the front end that has only gotten worse since they've left the Arcade. It seems the damage suffered from past usage is affecting such things as handling. <br /><br />When they arrive in Purgos, he notices the billboards alright, the sheer number of them reflecting off of the canopy of his Light Cycle. But there is always a story, a matter of perception and perspective... and he feels like he's /missing/ something. Like he should know but simply... doesn't. <br /><br />Right. The Other. Must be some strange feedback or something. <br /><br />The blue old-style Light Cycle, predating anything on /this/ Grid if the assortment of modern-day Light Cycles in their convoy is of any indication, grabs a lot of attention by itself. Most don't even know what it is, but if the rider is with the convoy, they don't want to get anywhere close. It just proves that they're way too conspicuous out in the open like this. <br /><br />His Light Cycle dissipates and he lands on the ground with practiced ease, looking around with neither his stance nor his visor giving any indication of his thoughts nor identity. He only gives Beck a quick handshake before the Renegade runs off, then he motions to everyone else. <"Let'z ztick together and get out of the ztreet."> <br /><br />To Blackbird, he simply shakes his head. <"Negative. That iz..."> His voice trails off for a moment, then back as if nothing had happened. <"That iz another matter entirely. But there iz no time to explain now."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur angles the bike well. He's ridden a bucking chocobo. This is much smoother. He doesn't have any way to communicate with the other pairs - instead beaming along solo. Then they are coming to a stop. He manages, by sheer accident, a bootlegger's turn. Appropriate for a man who spent some of his younger days selling snake oil out of a caravan. The smith's feet find the ground and he immediately stows the rod in the band of his belt, where a sword would go. But he carries no sword. <br /> <br />The forgemaster takes small chips of light out of his pocket. Once this was a powder, now it seems to have digitally congealed. As the others come to a stop, presumably to reconnoiter, Mr. Drover begins planting the chips in a wide circle, like a druid's ritual of warding or a magician's conjuring trick. He does not appear to be attentive. He is counting under his breath, measuring his steps. Something like string is drawn from his pack, once it was a loop of fire imp hair, now it is something else- shimmering like fresh-laid solder. His archer's gloves, made glowing by the reality of this place, handle it well. He loops it around a few of the little pips. The entire thing does not take long. It is much like a hunter setting snares - because it is. <br /> <br />"Miss, my sympathies. Ye'll have to come to the forge for a drink when this is over. You know this world. You give me an order and I'll follow it, and I know that goes double for my young charges." Here he points at Paulo, Avira, Maira, voice somewhat harsher. <br /> <br />"No time for big questions - but perhaps a little one, what is our route of escape? For that matter, how'd we get in here?" <br /> <br />He's peeking into bins, behind buildings in bad repair, never going an inch out of view of the group, but he speaks amid constant movement. This is a habit his "forge buddies" would be familiar with. <br /> <br />When Tron says no time to explain, the older man's ears perk, and he turns, all attention and keenness. <br /> <br />But a few gold colored chips are thrown down one corridor, where they stick to the ground and erect sharp points. No civilians around, time to use the nasty tools.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Admittedly, Eric never found the brakes, but a good wind spell would do whenever he needed it! Or whenever he needed to blast some red-lines away! He shared Paulo's reaction of 'suuuuuuuuuuuure!' to Faruja's embarassment, the sage and black mage practically in-sync. Yup, totally liking this kid. As Eric rolled to a stop, a gale abated, whipping up what little might be whipped up in this strange world. As the light cycle vanished, he darted up to Maira squealing, "I KNOW, RIGHT?!!!"<br /><br />As his fellow ex-nezu dug his hole deeper, he couldn't help but chuckle, "Ohohoho, so Ser Senra has 'hotties' on the side?"<br /><br />Okay, yeah, he totally didn't get that that was a name, but he was still pulling the Templar's leg. Faru made it too easy!<br /><br />As Eric looked around at the billboards, however, his mood changed entirely.<br /><br />"Oh my..." he squeaked. He'd rather depleted his magic with all the saves he had to pull on himself to prevent a crash - he wasn't sure how much use he would be now.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron held on to Paulo throughout the ride, also marvelling at the speed and sights of the virtual city around them. Its quite beautiful. Her arms are tightly linked around Paulo's sides, not wanting to be knocked out or slip out by accident. At this speed, it'd be dangerous. "Its remarkably stable at this speed." She notes to him or noone in particular really.<br /><br />She hops off the cycle on arrival, smoothing her skirt down a bit after the ride "Is the exit here, or did we just go even deeper into danger?" She wonders. She thrusts TRON knowing more than she does at least, but it doesn't make it any less worrisome when you end up in the middle of 'enemy territory' like that...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Looks like Avira never got the chance to use the toy Arthur gave her moments before. Avira's actually alright with that meaning she gets to save it for later. She'll save that bike for later too, even if she can't use it in the real world. <br /><br />Assuming they all get back to the real world at some point. Right now, though, it seems like they're a little stuck. <br /><br />"Low profile. Right. Got it." Avira's steps are swift and every now and then she looks over at Maira who was no doubt acting a little crazy right now. <br /><br />"So I'm hoping you can answer now that a little of the heat is off." Avira speaks up, directing her words to Beck. "What do you mean by 'Strays'?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi observes to Serah, "My sage-like senses tell me-- deeper into rabbit hole." Or is it chocobo's nest? There is a nod that is given to Beck-- he didn't doubt the program it is just that this all seems too surreal. So surreal that he might as well take everything literal. He adds in with the informational pow wow as he tries to keep a low profile in his extravagent robes-- "I am also curious. Just the name itself-- an unwanted creature. In a place this structured... I get it things won't end well if we get captured. So-- another thought. Where is 'out' exactly? I'll defer to friends as to where we are going, but I'd like to know a bit about our escape plans here. Even mountains fade to enough wind."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja opens his muzzle, and it just hangs there. The Templar's head just /hangs/ as that question sits in the air. He feels about five inches tall. Eric and Deel don't help. Make that two inches. <br /><br /> "...Hati has the form of a sleek dancer, slim and lithe, and powerful! Wild and strong! /You/, my dear, have the form of an actress: fetching, lovely, and with a natural warmth and comfort that makes thy hugs pleasant and enjoyable! Both of you are utterly beautiful, and frankly 'tis a wonder these male Programs are not bowing down before thy beauty!" Save! <br /><br /> Faruja nods to TRON. "Mmm, the poor quarter then." Ex-rat tank go? He stays in front of Maira protectively, single eye peering about as he listens to the others.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird frowned and scuffed a toe at the not-ground. The supposition FIT. THey looked in a very VERY space-paranoids like world. The Laser looked a lot like the SHIVA ENCOM was experimenting with way back about the sametime. And now The three initials of a thing ENCOM didn't really speak about much given at the time there were accusations of unauthorized networking into SAC and other even worse things. She didn't believe half of it but she knew a Master Program that was sortof a super traffic cop DID exist at one point right before... Her brow furrowed and she wans't quite sure where she was. After all she had to dig deep for all this old obscure info she only lerned about from refurbishing a bunch of the old mainframes kept in the boneyard. Funny. Flynn's desk had gone missing awhile back. Well mroe desk sized minicomp similar to the one that was back at the arcade. No that wans't this it just happened to be a popular formfactor..<br /><br />"Low Profile. Nothing ofrigins." Blackbird was a sortof distracted monotone at this point. "No magic, or at least nothing flashy." Slow nod. "I hear you." No she didn't. She was trying to make sure two plus two didn't end up equelling Fish.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira has always wanted to ride a light cycle. Well, for as long as she's known about them. So...well, months. STILL! It was really awesome. <br /><br /> Maira grins to Eric, even though he's being kind of a butthead, then grows more sober. She walks over to Deelel and places a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, watching Beck as he moves off to try to help them out. Yes, they are terribly conspicuous. <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Faruja, and facepalms, turning red. "Okay okay Faruja, I get it I get it..." she grumbles, punching him quite lightly in the arm before she wanders over toward Arthur, watching him curiously. "Whatcha doing?" she asks, head canted to the side slightly in question, hands clasping behind her back.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi heard 'No flashy magic' somewhere in there. Did it register? Maybe. Maayyyybeeee.<br /><br />The young man looks back to Faru and gives him a hearty slap on the square of his back, "Relax. Low profile. Like... ninja. Or a treasure hunter. Moreso a ninja." Ninja.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel thinks the idea of getting off the street is a good one, and Faruja's suffering continues to suffer eternally from the rest of the party she can't help but be amused with it. She tilts her head to Serah for a moment. <br /><br /> "Not really we got a chance to make our lives easier..." <br /><br /> The mention of Strays by AVIRA get her looking at her. She's going to let someone else field that, who know the subject better. It's not a present thing to think about really, also an old nightmare comes up. The faded memory of seeing friends here being experimented upon by a mad version of herself was something hard to forget. <br /><br /> "You are correct Paulo." <br /><br /> She looks back to Faruja for a moment and she laughs at Faruja's attempt to get himself out of trouble. <br /><br /> "So what does that make me hummmm?" <br /><br /> She looks to Blackbird for a moment and nods. She's sizing up the situation things go through her mind like her home is it still there? Or has it been idled out and re-purposed for something else? She'll have to go check later there could be supplies there, failing that it be a place to hide out. Also she'd have to check the grimmest thing on her mind. Is anyone she cares about still alive or did they all get cubed? No first focus on the living if Cel and the others are all right currently they should be able to wait a few cycles longer. She keeps an watchful eye on on the rest of the group and hopefully they can find what they seek. A way to either get them light suits and hopefully find fake or if they are lucky real discs for them.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and resting the flat of one foot against the surface. He watches Arthur secure their location with traps and such, but doesn't relax despite that, still keenly looking around just in case. <br /><br /><"I believe, Avira..."> He hestitates, relying on the data he has. <"CHIEF once told me that Programz advanced to the point where they muzt have a Dizc in order to hold all their data."> He motions towards assorted Purgos Programs hanging around. <"Thuz, if zuch a Program iz zeperated from their Dizc, they zoon forget who they are and what their function iz. Thuz, they become a 'Ztray' until they are reprogrammed with a new purpoze."> <br /><br />He takes his Silver Disc off of his back and idly twirls it between his fingers again. The lines on it are glowing and it hums ominously. <"Doez that make zenze?"> <br /><br />He cants his helm briefly to the others. <"Az for an ezcape route... I do believe that iz what the Renegade iz looking into. It zeemz we are zafe for the time being."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck had a rough road to hoe. Most of the Sirens here didn't even want to deal with him. Most of his connections had dried up thanks to CLU's forces and Tesler's actives while he had been gone. Some even went as far to tell him that he abandoned them.<br /><br /> However, Beck would get his chance at last, including bring the Siren slowly to the group.<br /><br /> As for the others. They got a rather quiet, uneventful time. Beyond a few people who lurked and watched. It seemed none of the guards were coming and the people were to frightened to get near the group who was associated with the Renegade.<br /><br /> Yet. Slowly Beck would return with a female in high heels, silver short hair, blue glowing eyes, and a white skin tight suit, that was almost silver in color with bright white lines over her body. She glances at the ground, before looking to the Renegade, then to them. "...there is so many of you.. you poor things.." She then steps forward before placing out her hand. "My name is Aurora. Please come with me." Her hand then returns to her side, before she walks past the Renegade and back into the shadows of the alley with only her light lines giving away her location.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja taps his chin after rubbing his arm, now quite satisfied at /not/ getting slapped. See, he's not Ivo! Paulo speaks, and the rat wobbles. <br /><br /> "...Stealth hath never been my forte. I prefer charging into the battle of love and beauty!" <br /><br /> He leans into Deel. Whisper whisper. "Athletic, stalwart, and a most determined figure!" Pause. Peer. "Graceful, yet warm...Mmm. A Cleyran dancer, were thee a nezumi!" <br /><br /> Then, they're off, and Beck comes back with a Lady. All the techno-talk goes over his head. He bows. "M'Lady." Follow the Lady in white!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird bowed to Aurora but said nothing. She hand't really been paying attention to what was going on, but this lady seemed friendly enough and this is wehre they were headed. Plus if it was a trap assumptions of her harmlessness would be vastly innacurate.. "Uh Deelel, Tron... Miss Aurora, Is there like a data cube or book or something i can sift through?" She smiled softly, "Memory's a bit fuzzy and always good to keep a copy of what's what on hand. Don't want to go blank when something important gets brought up."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi follows Beck but shares Faru's love of dramatics. "When we get out of here-- we need to train together and come up with a combo. Like-- fiery lancer stab of love and justice. Or something smaller-- like Holy Prism Lance." Chin rub. Then he motions to Maira, "We improv'd one once. That was hot." Literally, hot. Like a supernova. Poor Horned King.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck does return with a Siren, but the Renegade remains quiet. He waits for everyone to go ahead, before he checks their backs to make sure they wont be followed. He already warned her this would become a normal ordeal. People coming in probably now.<br /><br /> So the Siren would need to stay clean and help those who would come to her. She seemed ok with this and he was thankful that she still believed in what he was trying to do.<br /><br /> So once everyone goes. Beck will follow.<br /><br /> <span class=" bold_fg_w bg_n ++ hw">CONGRATULATIONS!!</span> <br /><br /> You all obtain a identity disc and new light suit cloths!<br /><br /> Now you can look like a program and walk around with your identity discs! It even comes with fancy program handles if you so want one. Huzzah!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira laughs softly at Faruja and Paulo, nodding. "Yes, we did. That was pretty great!" she agrees before turning her attention to the approaching program. She curtsies. In jeans. Whatever. "Nice to meet you Aurora, I'm Maira...um, okay," she says, then would follow, shrugging lightly<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron notices that the new program, Aurora, is a girl. Well, its not surprising in itself, she knows about Deelel after all. But seeing TRON and Aurora like that makes her wonder if genders really matter in this world, like in her world...<br /><br />Not that she wants to ask... That'd be rude.<br /><br />She sighs at her own curiosity, but follows in stride "Are we really safe here though... I'm worried..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel she notices the Siren, Beck has found, this is stroke of luck, they get hopefully get legit discs from this. She knows it may cost a good bit but she's willing to pay. Given you can't put a price tag on helping to keep your friends heads intact, right? Faruja's comments get a grin behind her face plate as she's leaned into by Faruja nad he makes her compliment. She seems in a good mood as she shuffles after the groups. The Siren gets a look over for a short moment. <br /><br /> "I am in your debt Aurora." <br /><br /> She's relaxing now and just looking about the place and the others a she tilts her head. <br /><br /> "Even before I got lost? This was not a spot that security liked to go if it didn't have to. It's the bad part of town more or less." <br /><br /> her helmet snaps back from where it came as did her cloak, she just kinda flops down. <br /><br /> "As for energy I'll see about getting us some tanks of it, it should be easy enough."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur spends some time receiving explanations, but sleep and family are calling him away, so with brief parting, and an explanation to the others about the traps laid out - he meanders homeward - there's much to be done tomorrow.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Lamia_Seekers Lamia Seekers 2013-12-17T21:45:10Z

<p>Megkitty87: To reflect abbreviation of Eric's name.</p> <hr /> <div>{{Log Header<br /> |Date of Scene=2013/08/13<br /> |Location=Chocobo Fields<br /> |Synopsis=Kidnappings lead Faruja and his considerable posse to investigate rumors of Lamia mischief. <br /> |Cast of Characters=Zeke, Faruja Senra, Skoll Ulfang, Tifa Lockhart, Shiki Misaki, Zia, Nagetta, Deelel, Synestria, Evja, Alma Hyral, Eric B. Mimsy III<br /> |pretty=yes<br /> }}<br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> ~~OUTSIDE LINDBLUM, A SMALL FARMING COMMUNITY~~ <br /><br /> The small rural community outside Lindblum is in an uproar. About a week ago, a prospecting miner fell right into the underground den of a family of Lamia. Aside from surprise on both parties, things were swiftly smoothed over; both local humans and snake-people alike were content to trade and otherwise stay out of each other's business. That is, until three days ago. First, it was a baker's son. Then the local priest's cousin. And finally, the mayor's grandson. All three dissappeared, with no explaination! Only shadowy figures and strange eyes in the darkness. <br /><br /> Faruja Senra and his companions from the Shard Seekers stand before the bald, short, hunched figure of an old human. Leaning on two canes, sitting back on a barrel, his beard very nearly touches the floor. What passes for local militia, two burly farmers with pitchforks, stands guard. The entire community seems keyed up, and eyes the strangers before them with suspicion. <br /><br /> Faruja inwardly sighs. For the last half hour, the old man has been lecturing the group about 'horrible, evil, man-eating snake women' coming from the darkness to eat their fellows. Finally, the rat's had enough. <br /><br /> "AHEM! Honored Mayor, 'tis all well and good, however let us get down to the point of the matter; where is their den, and how long ago did they dissappear?" <br /><br /> The old man huh's, and blinks. "Ehhh? Three days ago! To the north! Weren't you paying attention young man?" Whack! A cane swiftly swats the Burmecian's head. "And don't talk back to your elders!"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"You heard the man. Don't talk back to 'yer elders." Skoll muses, standing right next to the rat with his arms crossed. He then pats the Burmecian's shoulder and smirks at him. "Come on, let's go." Skoll actually paid attention throughout the entire thing, which is in a ways amazing. But then, knowing who and what Skoll is, one has to have an enormous amount of patience one way or the other.<br /><br />The werewolf quickly looks behind Faruja at the others who might also have gathered here. Sure they brought Chocobos for the ride? Assuming the Chocobos didn't /fall asleep/ while listening to the priest drone on and on... and on... and on...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>If this sort of scene didn't call the attention of another of their number, who knows what would? <br /> <br /> Synestria, as a result of this call, has joined Faruja's little band, whether she was part of the Shard Seekers or not. She stares at the mayor, but then pats Faruja on the shoulder. "Come on, Mousey. The sooner we find why their doing this, the sooner we can either convince them to stop, or stop them."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Shiki Misaki isn't quite sure what to make of all this. She remembers meeting Nagetta- so she knows for a fact that lamia aren't just like regular monsters. She's not quite sure what to make of this disappearence, and she's mostly coming along to make sure nobody gets hurt on either side. Or if the worst comes to the worst, well... snakes don't like cold.<br /><br /> She hopes it doesn't come to that.<br /><br />However, because she's so unsure, she's been quite silent- hanging near the back of the group, following in a funk. She's certainly NOT been bored asleep by the priest.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart intercepts the cane whipping suddenly, an open hand stopping it just an inch over Faruja's head. She gives a glare to the man, an invitation to never do that again to people that would be helping them.<br /><br />She took the Shard Seeker's invitation to help out with the search, since she's been around the Chocobo Fields alot. Its close to home, to her bar, and to the ranch, and she's visited the area alot while training her chocobo.<br /><br />The sound of a 'kweh' comes from behind, where the fire red chocobo is standing, ruffling his feathers a bit, trotting around the familiar area as well... as if it was already doing some searching on its own.<br /><br />She shakes her head, leaving the old man be for now "So we should be starting the search up north hm?" She turns over to meet up with the chocobo, hopping up on its saddle.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>It's probably a good thing that Zia didn't come to this particular mission without her cloak. If the old man has this much of an issue with snake women, what would he think of a gargoyle? Better not to find out. "Crazy old bat." She mutters under her breath, making sure she's out of ear-shot and out of the reach of his cane.<br /><br />The white gargoyle glances at Faruja, then the array of others, but since the poor Templar has already got supporters crowded around them, she sinks to the background, walking along with her cloak dangling near her feet, trying not to let the great taloned appendages be seen. Why must there still be worlds that look down on certain non-humans. <br /><br />It just so happens she's standing near Shiki as they head out, and the gargoyle offers her a look from her cloak-covered eyes. "Good thing ye didnae show him yer cat-friend. He'd probably had us all chased wi' pitchforks."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma needed something to take her mind off /things/. Angsty /things/ that don't need to be recounted here. <br /> <br /> Fortunately the Shard Seekers appeared to be offering her an oppurtunity to do that. And while her first impression of them was horrible on the account of being made a scullery maid in Mullonde for a few days by Faruja after blessing him in the name of another deity when she couldn't pay the fine. Her second impression was even worse because of the incorrigible Ivo Galvan taking advantage of an amnesiac when she visited their headquarters.. she decided to give them another chance. <br /> <br /> Third times a charm right? She hoped so. <br /> <br /> Faruja gets whacked by a cane, and she winces, giggling just a little bit. I mean /what/!? He deserved it! Scullery maid! She was wearing her typical White Mage robes, even if a pair of denim jeans and boots peaked out from beneath the hem. <br /> <br /> Once she stifled that giggle she states in a voice that's entirely too solemn, "You really should pay more attention, Faruja." <br /> <br /> She gave some of the others gathered curious looks, she didn't know most of them, but introductions could come in time. Her gaze lingered on Zia for a moment, as she reminded her of the Gargoyle she'd seen with the TDA.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Oh hey, Alma's here. Shiki gives her a little wave.<br /><br /> I'm so sorry about Ivo! I'm so, so sorry! her eyes seem to say.<br /><br />How could you maintain a low opinion of the Shard Seekers when Shiki's here? And Mr. Mew is here too! He pokes his head out from under Shiki's hat and just seems to give Zia this deadpan look.<br /><br /> How, we're not sure.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel had met a few Lamias in her life notably one that was a dragoon, that was one of the most crazy sights she'd ever seen. Not in a bad way but for how amazing the world was. She knew still this could be a problem. Just what was going on with the Lamias? She'd kept quiet after all she wasn't human and well? Given the stare the people are in they don't need to know something that some would consider an unnatural creature was lurking about, actually helping them. <br /><br /> She looks over to Faruja she'd not been fond of Chocobos for ride, honestly. She preferred something that became an extension of herself like a lightcyle. Sigh she does not look too good as she hangs on to the Chocobo looking like it might explode at any moment. <br /><br /> "How do you all ride these things?!?" <br /><br /> The others words are not ignored but she's looking wigged out by the darn bird. The chocobo almost seems to be enjoying her discomfort.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke shared Deelel's dislike of riding birds. "I dunno love but horses these things aint." He looked positivly green. As for Lamia... given who and what he had in his crew and said dragoon-lamia had an open invitation to join if she had need or inclination he was more than willing to give anything a chance. "Please," He sounded more tha na little despirate, "What's the secret of these ruddy feathered beasts?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III wasn't entirely sure why he was here. Maybe he'd wanted to get out of Lindblum from a busy day of catching up with business, or maybe he was actually interested in rescuing inhabitants of Lindblum... or maybe he'd just heard Faruja Senra was here. Really, any of those three could be it, but the last one was oddly poignant. Fortunately for his attention span, and unfortunately for his understanding of the situation, Eric happened to appear at the back of the group just in time to see the mayor bop Faruja on the head. He winced even as a chortle escaped him.<br /><br />"Not entirely fair of thee to be bopping humble Churchmice on the head, now is it?" he called out from the back, waving at Faruja good-naturedly. He was pretty sure being called a mouse would grate on the fellow Burmecian's nerves... which was the entire point.<br /><br />"Eric Bartholomew, at your service," he introduced himself (incompletely) with a flourished bow and a grin to anyone who didn't happen to already be acquainted with himself... and simultaneously unintentionally volunteered to help with the quest at hand.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Synestria, is generally left unmolested, appearing human as she is. When they're away, Faruja responds to her. "Agreed. Mayhaps, M'Lady Syn, you shall be the key to such!" The rat doesn't necessarily explain /why/ that might be. <br /><br /> Saved by the barmaiden! Faruja casts a thankful glance to Tifa as she catches the cane, the Burmecian quick to get on with things. Skoll pats him on the back, and Faruja shakes his head. "Next it shall be the paddle or somesuch." Huff! He's not a badly behaving child! <br /><br /> "North, 'tis M'Lady Lockhart. Should be easy enough travel." Indeed, the Chocobo Plains are as flat as most plains tend to be! <br /><br /> "Heard that ya stoney lass!" Yells out the old man at Zia. It seems his ears are one thing that /isn't/ going. <br /><br /> Faruja grits his teeth as Alma speaks. Deep breath! And out. "A lesson I shall keep in mind Lady Hyral." Grump grump! <br /><br /> Ear-perk. A brow rises. "I AM NOT A MOUSE, SER BARTHOLOMEW!" FAruja's lungs still work. <br /><br /> The Templar may be cheating a bit, astride the wyvern Arista as she flies along lazily above the ground. The creature keeps occasionally looking at the birds (or their riders) hungrily. The pair of knight and mount occasionally argue in draconic, leading to a grumpy looking wyvern. "Simple, Lady Deel, good Captain! Treat the bird as thy friend, and hold on! Light pressure upon their neck to steer!" Comments the rat. <br /><br /> After some traveling, monsters generally leaving such a large group alone, the party comes across a gaping hole in the grand; or at least what may once have been such. A tent covers the entryway to the lamia's home, brown and large. A sign is hammered into the ground, stating; "Private lair! Tresspassers will be bitten and possibly eaten! Salesmen and Ajora's Witnesses /will/ be eaten!" <br /><br /> As the group nears, a figure slithers out from the tent. The human portion of the female looks no more than twenty, with short and messy blonde hair, and large green eyes. She wears a simple striped t-shirt and jacket covering a relatively slim frame that transitions to brown, dusty scales and a ten foot long tail. In her hands, she has a shotgun. <br /><br /> "HEY! You're on our land! You with those yokels near Lindblum?" Yells out the snakess. While she doesn't level her weapon, she looks quite peeved, and perhaps a bit scared.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke glowered at the townsfolk but said nothing. He wasn't needed yet, they were just cowardly superstitious and upset. Grumble Grumble "Hey." He tried finding a comfortable position on his bird. "Look birdy I'm not much of a rider so mind going easy on the rolling lumpy gait?"<br /><br />WARK! HOP! Zeke looked sick shut up and didn't open his mouth til he saw the 'trespassers will be bitten' sign and shook his head. "Can't say that's an entirely effective deterrant. i've known half a dozen or so people stupid and or drunk enough to roll around in something godsaweful just to see what the reaction may yet be." And then he lost his lunch.<br /><br />Mighty man of the sea lain low by a common bird. He'll never hear the end of this.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart smiles as some of the others ask for ways to control the birds "That's because you're thinking of them as objects. They are intelligent creatures, they sense your confusion or insecurity. Try to make friends with them, understand them instead, they communicate int heir own way. If you give it your trust they won't let you down either." She leans against the neck of her chcoobo, petting under its beak. Premium Heart 'kweh~' happily as a reply, as if it understood what was being said. It doesn't really, but it understands its about her at least.<br /><br />She nods to Faruja, pulling up on the reins and following over the fields... until they come up with the Lamiass... Well at least they seem intelligent enough to talk, so dialog is possible... "I'm impressed that they 'slither' their 's' sound even when writing." She shrugs at that, but she slides off her chocobo, if only to show good intentions that she's not going to charge in atop of it at least.<br /><br />Plus she fights better on foot if need is.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke glowered at the townsfolk but said nothing. He wasn't needed yet, they were just cowardly superstitious and upset. Grumble Grumble "Hey." He tried finding a comfortable position on his bird. "Look birdy I'm not much of a rider so mind going easy on the rolling lumpy gait?"<br /><br />WARK! HOP! Zeke looked sick shut up and didn't open his mouth til he saw the 'trespassers will be bitten' sign and shook his head. "Can't say that's an entirely effective deterrant. i've known half a dozen or so people stupid and or drunk enough to roll around in something godsaweful just to see what the reaction may yet be." And then he lost his lunch.<br /><br />Mighty man of the sea lain low by a common bird. He'll never hear the end of this.<br /><br />After regaining at least a little composure he looked over at Tifa. "Pardon lass but horses i know. Fish and whale aplenty I know." He patted the chocobo's neck. "This beast be a mystery to me. And it seems to like making me suffer for it."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Red chocobo. Why did it have to be a red chocobo!? Skoll looks back at Tifa's Chocobo with a bit of a nervous gaze, before glancing towards Zia. She was right of course. The man was a crazy old bat. But if it hadn't been for crazy old bats - her crystal would still be broken right now. So you have to give the elderly some respect. Being near Lindblum, there's plenty of demihumans around, so it's very possible that the Gargoyle's attempts might just be for naught. Still, it matters little. They'll be leaving soon after all. "Aye. You heard the lady." Skoll agrees with Alma, while he continues to regard Faruja. Poor mouse. Then suddenly Faruja goes yelling at Bartholomew. Oh hey, another Burmecian!<br /><br />"But you're fine with us calling you Mouse." Skoll comments to the Nezumi with bemusement.<br /><br />Cut to Skoll helping Zia onto a proper /yellow/ Chocobo. Nice and safe. They ride off into the distance, and soon come upon the Snakessssssssss. Skoll notices immediately that they aren't really all that... scary looking. Other than the one with a shotgun. "Seriously? A Lamia with a shotgun? What'll be next?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>It isn't the first time lately that Zia has been stared at, and the gargoyle nervously glances back, then tucks her cloak closer around herself. Among those who know her, she's hardly shy about her appearance, but with the village so close by, the last thing she needs is someone drawing more attention to it. Maybe the mouse could pass for something harmless, but a creature with great bat wings and talons is going to have a bit of a harder time explaining that they aren't the source of the problem, somehow. <br /><br />Her gaze meets the deadpan expression of the cat. "Well, ye are a wee bit unusual, Sir cat." So long as he doesn't have a knife out, the gargoyle doesn't seem quite as nervous around the plushie. Most of these others she's seen before, so the gargoyle doesn't bother with introductions. The only one who does is Eric, to whom she inclines her head. "Good day te ye." She winces as the old man calls behind her. Oops. <br /><br />As the others deal with their various troubles (or not) with their chocobos, Zia actually offers a hand out to the resident werewolf, pulling herself in behind him for the ride. Normally, she'd fly the distance, but... not right in front of the village. Luckily, it's a big bird.<br /><br />When they arrive, she's quick to slide down, if only because riding doesn't come naturally to her. "Ah dinane think Ah'll ever get usedte burden beasts." The gargoyle rubs at her tail, and then finally draws back her hood, unclasping the cloak so she can toss the thing up across Skoll's saddle and not worry about it. Most of the people knew what she was, anyways. "Shakes wi' shotguns sounds like the sequel to Snakes on a Plane." She notes, absently.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Hopping up on a chocobo herself, Synestria sits side saddle the whole way to the cave. <br /> <br /> Once there, she slid off the saddle and smirks at the sign once they get to the cave. "Well that's a wonderful welcome, isn't it?" She then walks her way forwards towards the Lamia and tilts her head. "Yes we're on your land, but we've come here with a few concerns, it seems." She then holds up her hand. "If you could lower the shotgun, please?" She then looks to Faruja. "Be civil, Faruja....please?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma offers Shiki something of a shy wave and a smile. She barely knew who Shiki was other than the person fixing up a custom Cactuar costume with the Shard Seeker's <br /> <br /> To Faruja she just smiles quite sweetly. She'd forgiven, but she hadn't forgotten, and seeing a little bit of cosmic Karma coming his way was always a little comforting. <br /> <br /> Alma rides on a yellow Chocobo, a rental that she'd literally named Trouble. She'd only fallen off.. twice. "You are causing me so much grief, bird." She mutters to it as she follows along, lagging behind the group only a little bit. It only replied in a sing-song waarkkwarkwarrkkk. Tifa's lesson didn't even need to be said. She was taking it to heart that they were indeed intelligent creatures. She just had a feeling that it was trolling her. <br /> <br /> Alma asks to Skoll in genuine confusion when Faruja yells at Eric, "So wait, he doesn't want us calling him Mouse? Is that offensive to his people? What should we call him? He's not a rat is he?" Also because she was fixated on Skoll's ears which she finds pretty adorable. <br /> <br /> When they arrive at the Lamia's lair, she looks at the sign, commenting, "Well that's more honest than Feige Abramson's /Not a Secret Lair/ sign from trustworthysigns.com." When the Lamia comes out, she just observes it with curiosity, uncertain what exactly to say that would make this situation better.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Let's bounce before he busts a blood vessel," Shiki suggests, cringing a little bit. She sucks it up and puts on her best smile- after all, she's surrounded by so many close friends, she can't help but do so when the pressure's off. She's got to make sure she doesn't look glum, or that's a lot of people she'll be making concerned! <br /><br /> Fortunately, she's experienced with Chobobos and riding thereof, or at least more experienced than some people around here. So she doesn't have much of a problem when they go riding. It's pretty relaxing, and she just sits back and lets her worries subside.<br /><br /> You could almost hum Ukelele de ChocoSHOTGUN?! Where did a lamia get a shotgun from?<br /><br /> Shiki gulps as they end up facing down a lamia almost immediately, and Mr. Mew hides again. He's made of fluff, shotguns are bad for him. <br /><br />Still, Shiki can recognise the fear in the lady snake's expression. "Easy," she says, also dismounting. "We're just looking for some lost people."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel is still clinging to her chocobo and looking most uncomfortable from the looks of her but she's going to make due, she's really going to make due with it. The comment of calling Faruja a mouse manage to get a bit of a laugh out of the basic. She knows it wasn't meant in any sense of unkindness, still how flustered Faurja got over it? Made it pretty priceless. <br /><br /> "All right, I'll try...?" <br /><br /> She sounds uncertain as she follows Faruja's suggestion about how to handle the bird hopefully it will work and she won't end up having a meteor dropped on her head for her trouble. No she has no idea which breeds can or can nod do that. She gives the Lamia's a surprised look, Lamia's with a shotgun? Okay that was new. <br /><br /> "Greetings!" <br /><br /> Yes keep it cool Deelel, nothing bad could happen right? Well if she stays civil something strange has to be going on here right? Then again perhaps Nagetta has given her a different outlook on the Lamia race than many would have.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric grinned in satisfaction when Faru shouted at him - score!<br /><br />"Generally Burmecians don't like being compared to rodents," Eric answered Alma's question, despite the query not being aimed at himself. "Rats and nezumi aren't even that closely related as species, and being called a rat is rather a bit of an insult even amongst our own kind."<br /><br />The beginning of that last statement would be perplexing to anyone who knew Japanese, since nezumi actually translates literally as 'rat', but Eric didn't even know Japan existed. Oh, hey, Faru, Eric's making mild implications about evolution. Faru, go defend your religion!<br /><br />Eric followed along on his rental Chocobo - he would have loved to own one himself but rather didn't like the idea of being too busy to visit it every day - and was rather good-natured right up until the Lamia with the shotgun. To this, he squeaked and shrunk to the back of the group, rather a bit intimidated since he'd dismounted his chocobo by this time. He still had hold of the reigns and was petting the chocobo in a soothing manner, but it seemed to do more for his own nerves than the chocobo's since the yellow bird gazed on in a stalwart manner. Lamia apparently did not frighten it.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Nagetta's on tail herself, most Chocobos run away when they see the lamia. Of course this means she's a bit behind everyone else. At least until they're stopped with the lamia with the shotgun. There are other talking lamias besides her and Syn? She looks a bit surprised to hear that. Which why she's been remaining so quiet. "Hello...we're not going to hurt you. Could you please put the weapon down?" The snake girl moves to the front of the group, hoping her presence might calm things a bit.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja goes red in the ears, those two appendages folding back at Skoll's comment. "...'Tis a term of endearment." Mutters the rat, a bit squeakily and sheepishly. Then there's Alma. "...Nezumi or Burmecian, if 'tis pleasing, M'Lady Hyral." It seems no one has clued him in to the idea of what 'nezumi' means in japanese. The poor rat just sounds defeated at this point. <br /><br /> "Well said, Eric!" Faruja sounds more than a touch happy at the man picking up the explainations. <br /><br /> The lamia looks over the group, frowning as some members address her and others make gestures of being 'not threats'. Out of all of them, Shiki and especially Nagetta seems to get the woman's attention. "...That true?" Faruja gives a nod, and a flick of the tail to the pair of women. A thumbs-up, in nezumi! <br /><br /> "Yes, M'Lady. It seems as though the villagers blame thyselves for their missing...." starts the rat. Hisss! The lamia shakes her head. <br /><br /> "Wasn't us! I swear! Yeah, we've gone to the village a time or two, but it wasn't like that! Always during the day, too! Just a bunch of idiots blaming the first non-human thing they can spy!" <br /><br /> Faruja raises his hands plaintively. "We believe thee, M'Lady, truly!" <br /><br /> Before the rat can say anything else, the lamia sighs. "...Really? Well. I guess someone who's running around with one of us isn't about to lay the blame on us. Sorry. Just tell those idiots we're missing people two. My two daughters are missing, and so is Jane! Two days we saw some beady little yellow eyes in the darkness. Tried to get everybody inside, but...couldn't." Finally, she puts away the gun. "Come on in." She calls out. Faruja dismounts his own mount, and heads off behind! Should the rest of the group enter, they'll find themselves led down to a twisting set of tunnels, large enough for three to walk abreast. Down one forked passage, two lamia women stand guard, the way further blocked off by piled up boxes, and other assorted junk. The group halts there, the lamia woman nodding. "That's where they came from, those.../THINGS/! And ya know, the others were talking about hearing screams. Not lamia ones. Human ones." <br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke slid off his chocobo and patted it's side. "Good bird. nice bird. Sorry I'm out of practice riding." He huffed and grumbled. Then got headbutted by ye olde bird. "I take that you like me then aye? Well be a good bird an when we get back I'll see about getting you something crunchy deal?"<br /><br />Kewh.<br /><br />And with that said Zeke slowly pulled his coat off, anyone in party or in the lamia community would see a few pistols rattling around, hear many other things. He kept slow as he draped it over the chocobo. "Jus' t'show I mean no 'arm.," He explained before approaching. "Ah only came along on request fer some extra eyes an I dunna kneh tha situation on account of bein land-sick on yonder bird but it seems people be missin. Noone here is assumin ye be th'cause or that yer intent be anythin other than self defense but we seek information. If ye wish t'help tha'd be right grand an we can all part ways on good terms. No harm done and maybe a little good in th'long run."<br /><br />What? Zeke was a merchant, this was a possible customer market. Plus they could probably use a few friendly helpful faces about now. "Truely we mean no harm jus' a few questions an we be out o yer scales." This is Zeke's sincere Face.<br /><br />This is also Zeke's Grateful Face when Nagetta slithered to the front of the crowd. He didn't say anything to her but he stood beside the lady snake and waited, hoping.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Shiki makes a disgruntled sigh. "I'm sorry. It's tough when people judge you by appearences." She sounds like she's talking from experience. She glances at Eric and Faruja, and then at Alma- and when she spots Nagetta, waves her over. "Long time no see!"<br /><br /> Unfortunately, she knows all too well what the description is when it's given- she's gotten very used to recognising yellow eyes in the darkness, and it tends to mean only one thing. Mr. Mew takes point with a flashlight when they head inside, although it's really only one of those tiny ones you use to read by. Still, if someone laughs, then that's a victory in his book.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Synestria smiles to the Lamia. "Two of you." She says before looking back to Nagetta and a friendly wave can be seen until she follows the Lamia down the tunnels. "Man this would be a tight fit if I was normal." Of course, she stayed with Nagetta as well. She not only considered Nagetta a friend, but an unofficial member of her clan, whether she realized it or not. However, at the end of the tunnel, she cracks her neck. "Issssss there another way around, or issssss thisssss the only way through. <br /> <br /> Not, that's not a lisp she's sporting suddenly.....<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The white gargoyle's ears tip down a little at the prospect that she might have been speaking ill of her dear mouse friend for such a long time. "Ye have m'sincerest apologies. Ah didnae know it was offensive." Clearly, she's taken aback by it. "Ah'll try te be more careful in the future." She probably feels that much worse about it, since her lack of using names means that Zia has called Faruja a mouse... a lot. Oops.<br /><br />Staying a step back, Zia ends up standing not far from Alma, meaning that the white mage can probably now see the gargoyle form that was hidden before. She allows Faruja to do the talking, feeling a bit chagrined about having made certain social mistakes, her tail idlely twitching behind her. <br /><br />It isn't until the Lamia begin to lead them that she speaks up again, "Yellow eyes." She notes, "Tha sounds a wee bit familiar, aye?" Looking to the others, she hesitates. Afterall, almost everyone here has run into the Heartless from time to time. Clearly, that's her first guess as to the identity of the kidnappers. "Then again, Ah dinnae know if we'd even hear screams if it were Heartless."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart is glad that they don't have to fight right out at least. "I'm sorry for the disturbance then. If we find your missing kindred we'll be sure to send them back your way." As for the villagers... well, humans are bad untrusting creatures, as sad as that makes her. Living with other races like Zia, Faruja and even duckpeople, she doesn't share that feeling anymore at least.<br /><br />She slides back on top of Premium Heart "So black creatures with yellow eyes huh... sounds like heartless... but they usually don't capture, or so I thought." She makes sure she's not within hearing range too "I thought they pretty much just tore anyone's heart away, not put them in cages or something..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Aye. Sounds like heartless." Skoll answers Zia, frowning deeply. He's letting the others do the talking for this whole mess. He does take his time to get off of his Chocobo upon arrival, and then offers a hand up towards Zia. Heh, calling Burmecians a mouse is an 'endearment'. He'll have to keep that in mind too. "Take my hand." Skoll whispers to Zia, in an attempt to help her down and then follow after the Lamia.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>She listens to explanations from both Eric and Faruja. Before finally deciding in a voice filled with consternation.. "I'll just.. go with Burmecian. Less ambiguous." <br /> <br /> There is a moment when the Lamia mentions beady yellow eyes that Alma looks like she's been shot. Her expression wide with... fear? Before she closes her eyes, beginning to breathe quite rapidly. It takes some time for her to calm herself down, far more than by all rights, it ought to have, before finally stating to Zia, "M..more familiar than y-you know." However her fear was not of Heartless... after all. They weren't the apex predator with yellow eyes. Not anymore if mad SCIENCE had anything to say about it. <br /> <br /> However she then falls into a sullen silence, as if she were trying to get over a shock that was seemed appalling traumatic to her.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel is more focused on the Lamia issue than further comment on Faruja's nickname. She does give Shiki a look and a faintly smile before turning her attention back to the Lamia for a moment. Also speaking of Lamias she does notice Nagetta and hopes just by her presence that they might be able to talk this out. Discrimination is a problem but it is also known some Lamias did eat people. On the other hand nothing seems to give away that. <br /><br /> "Wait more people have gone missing?" <br /><br /> Was something targeting both the Lamias and the human settlement? It seemed to be very likely. She hops of her bid and gives it some greens, that seems to placate the bird which is still amused at this. <br /><br /> "I do not like the sounds of this, Zeke? you got any ideas on this?" <br /><br /> At the mention of yellow eyes she has to nod in agreement to Zia. <br /><br /> "Sounds like what I think it is, Zia." <br /><br /> Alma meanwhile gets a bit of a look too as she's also clicked, Deelel doesn't quite go for her disc yet? But the weapon has been unlocked should it be needed. <br /><br /> "Shiki keep with me also I have some pictures to show you later..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Yes, it sounds like the heartless." Nagetta nods in agreement with the others. "They kidnapped a few other of the others...we have to find them!" The normally soft-spoken girl is louder than usual. There's no telling what they might do. It figures, she finally meets some more lamia and there's already trouble. Hopefully they weren't too late. "Oh yes, hello Shiki. I have something I need to ask you about later." The current matter was a bit more important.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Synestria chuckles a bit as she sees Nagetta get right to the heart of the matter, but she doesn't really mind. "At leasssst we're not hunting Lamia here." She says as her form shifts from the slight human she was before, into a lamia that's a bit larger than Nagetta, and perhaps the other Lamia that are there. "All right. Much better...."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> With so many polite efforts on the party of mixed non-humans and humans, the snake lady seems to relax a bit. Paranoia is replaced by open worry over the fate of her kin. Looking from face to face, she finally smiles lightly at Shiki. <br /><br /> "Heh, yeah...you're not so bad though. Uh. Sorry." That seems to be directed to the humans of the group. The woman peers at both Nagetta, and then Synestria. "Good to know we're not alone, though. Worried we were the only lamia around...but yeah, only way in, only way out. We stored all of our furniture there. Big room. Well, we did until all of /this/ started. Though, ya know...one of the kids did say they heard something collapse back there. Little bit before the screams started. Never got a chance to investigate though." <br /><br /> Faruja doesn't seem too upset, merely shaking his head. "Worry naught, my friend." Smile! Alma gets a strange look, almost worried as he notes so much fear. <br /><br /> The party's in agreement, in general. "Quite. Heartless...most curious however..." Faruja echoes, before nodding to the guards. <br /><br /> "Well, at the least, we know where we must go. Sers, Dames? Shall we?" The two guards look to the lamia woman. "Let 'em through." Two snakey women begin to haul stuff out of the way. Faruja draws his spear, lighting up like some sort of candle. Though the way in has been lit by torches, the inner cavern is dark. <br /><br /> "Shall we?" Into the caverns we go!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke hmmed as he followed the crowd. "Mayhap their tactics be changin' let us do their work for 'em an keep one from joining with another t'keep from gettin shredded." Thoughtful voice as he sought Deelel out. He felt naked with so few weapons, just a pistol and his sword, but a show of trust never hurt... except when it did. "I be thinkin these heartless be smarter an we've believed. Then 'gain it takes a mind t'figure on stratagy like this an all t heartless 've seen be little better than mindless maws." Let that sink in and stew for awhile as they walked.<br /><br />"Mayhap a good idea t'send one of us back t'give th'villagers an update on th'situation t'head off any potential rabblerousers hopin t'start a fight."<br /><br />The more he thought of that the less he liked it. Look around. He frowned and grumbled. "I be goin back t'give word about what's what an fetch m'crew t'aid in preperations. If this be a battle they be wantin' best have a place of safty ready." With that he bowed slightly before making his exit. This meant going back via chocobo which didn't do his stomach any favors, but as he put his coat back on and convinced the great yellow bird to let him back on he hmphed. "Personal discomfort be damned to th'pits. There be business afoot."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Shiki just gives a goofy laugh, 'cuz she can't think of any other way to respond.<br /> Shiki... gives Deelel a glance, as if to say 'just a moment'.<br /><br /> She walks behind Alma and gently wraps her arms around her from behind as they walk, because she really looks like she could use a hug right now. Shiki's pretty good at this empathy thing lately. It is a hug that asks for no explanation and gives none of its own.<br /><br /> "Heartless are sly little things, even if they don't look like it. Those ones that can press flat into the shadows are really good at getting behind someone." Like the others, she's privately worried that they won't find anyone because the Heartless will have basically eaten them, but like the others she's hardly going to say this. If only there was a way to get those people back...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Her voice is literally shaking with fear "Or E-Empties..." It wasn't rational fear. It wasn't the sort she could puzzle through and wonder why she was more afraid of them by far than Heartless that she'd seen literally cause the end of her world. It was the sort that clung to the deepest recesses of the subconscious even if the memories of the nightmare had long since faded. <br /> <br /> And hers had been a long nightmare. <br /> <br /> After a time, she swallows, and follows them into the caverns. Shiki gives her a hug, and she manages a faint smile, but it hardly puts her at ease. Hollow yellow eyes belonging to green-haired girls were all she saw in the back of her mind.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart hops off of the chocobo once the group reaches the cavern. She notes Alma's fear and trembling voice, and offers her shoulder a reassuring squeeze with her gloved hand "Don't worry, we're all together, and we're stronger as a group than we could ever be alone, right?" She smiles, and moves on ahead toward the entrance, taking up the front line as she always does. She rather be hurt first than letting others stand in the line of fire when it comes to it.<br /><br />She crosses her arms, looking at the opening "I never thought that heartless would really 'hide' anywhere either. It sounds like heartless, but the parts don't seem to fit perfectly... I wonder what's going on.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> ~~LAST TIME~~ <br /><br /> Our noble heroes followed the trail of evidence to the lamia's den. Missing men, missing snakes, and beady-yellow-eyed devils in the darkness followed, with a curious mystery hanging in the air! The green-haired, shotgun toting lamia waved off the would-be heroes as they left to find the source of it all. <br /><br /> ~~NOW~~ The group sets off into the sealed off portion of the den, holy light and other more mundane means peering into the unlit darkness. The cavern is in good shape still, given how recently it was abandoned, old torches still hanging in sconces nailed into the compacted soil. At first, everything is eerily silent. Five minutes pass, before a fork in the tunnels is reached. The leftmost cavern seems to head downwards, while the rightmost seems to remain mostly level. <br /><br /> Faruja frowns lightly, stopping. "...The Lady made no mention of another passageway."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Shiki's a fast-talkin' streetwise girl on the scene!<br /> Mr. Mew's filled with polyester and he has a torch!<br /><br />Together they are: DIG DUG! Wait, no, this whole idea is awful, can it. Do something else, anything else.<br /><br /> Shiki is still walking along that tunnel! It feels like we've been walking for hours. Days, even! Maybe even a whole week. But we gotta do it for the kids! The snake kids! And the other snake people. And the other people. And kids. There's no half measures.<br /><br /> "OK, first thing we do is /don't/ split up, horror movie 101."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Slithering down the tunnel herself, and probably taking up most of the tunnel herself, Synestria looks back towards the rest of the group, especially Faruja, and chuckles. "Perhapsssss she forgot. Anywayssssss, letssss ssssee if we can get their ssssscent." She says immedinately sticking her tongue out. <br /> <br /> Cuz snakes have a more sensitive tongue to smell than their noses do. Strange, no?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart nods to Shiki's statement "Strength in numbers... especially considering these." She left her chocobo behind as they got to the tunnels, so she strolls toward what catches her attention. She has a good visual acuity it seems, as she moves toward the side of the tunnel, tracing her fingers along the walls.<br /><br />"These aren't natural. There's claw marks, as if it was dug straight out of the rock and dirt. I'm not sure that's a good thing for us... but it looks likely whatever waits us down there is what took away the lamias and humans alike..." She kneels to look at the ground around the entrance as well, tracing fingers over the marks, just trying to estimate their size compared to her hand.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma flashes back to her Dungeoneering 101. The class on splitting the party specifically. <br /> <br /> To sum up the class in a single word. 'Don't.' <br /> <br /> The class clown made the addendum: ...unless you want make out time. <br /> <br /> This causes her face to screw up a little bit with suppressed laughter, bringing her out of her foul mood. "Going to have to agree on the not splitting up thing."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Underground tunnels have always felt a bit strange to Zia. There isn't enough room to move her wings, or to be able to walk without risk of bumping into someone. It might be that, or the fact that every time she's been in some underground place, it seems to lead to trouble. <br /><br />Her eyes naturally adjust to the dark, though the colors wash out a bit as she walks along, taking care not to step on anyone's toes or snake-bits with her oversized feet. It isn't until Tifa points out the claw marks that she peeks over at them. "Ah dinnae know much other than Gargoyles 'n monsters tha can make clawmarks in stone." <br /><br />As the others chime in their opinions on not splitting up, she nods along with it, "We sould probably spread out a wee bit, though. If there's a rock-slide down here, we dinnae want all of us endin up caught in it." The thought of being trapped down here sparks a hint of claustrophobia. <br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel has been keeping with the group the talk of there being heartless in all likelihood behind the toruble sof both the Lamias and the humans? It makes a disturbing sort of sense to her. She's already got her disc out and armed. The powered edge also adding a bit of light on top of the light that Deelel herself normally generates. <br /><br /> She looks over at Shiki for a moment and seems amused <br /><br /> "Stick together is generally the best idea, Shiki." <br /><br /> Synestria seems to have an idea and some abilities she lacks such as powerful sense of smell. The nature of the tunnels is notably not natural something dug them with some sort of intent. As everyone else Tifa to Alma chime in that splitting up is a bad idea. <br /><br /> "Then we stick it out together and your right Tifa it is the most logical source of both settlements troubles."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"I do." Skoll answers Zia, looking at his fingers for a moment, before glancing back at the Gargoyle. He's remained close to her this entire time. And it seems like everyone is getting rather dire about this whole situation. The wolf continues to follow along and then finally...<br /><br />Yoink.<br /><br />Skoll suddenly grabs Zia's tail and lifts it slightly, and wags his tail at whomever is behind him. "If it gets too dark, grab the nearest tail or whatever, so that we don't lose anyone. That's the best way to stick together." He declares as if this was the most obvious thing ever. This might end up with Faruja's tail being held by a nobleman... who knows.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The lack of light isn't an issue for Nagetta. In fact she sees better in the dark. She feels almost at home here. "Yes, we should stick together." The other lamias in here might not be as as friendly as the ones they've met so far. There's also likely heartless down here as well.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>LAST TIME ON PLANET ERIC<br /><br />"Madam, so long as I am not mistaken in his nature due to our short acquaintance, I do believe Ser Senra would have politely informed you of any discomfort to himself by now," Eric said to Zia, by way of assuring her the nickname was likely nothing. "Like many things spoken of in general terms, there are situational exceptions - I've heard some Burmecian mothers refer to their children as 'little mouselings' with nothing short of an overabundance of affection, and I've seen a Burmecian in Lindblum who was commonly called 'old rat' rather amicably at the bars he frequented."<br /><br />Eric, way back when, had wanted to set the offending bar patrons on fire, but upon realizing they were clearly all old friends had settled for steaming at his table. He'd gradually grown accustomed to it over the years, and in fact was known for making self-deprecating humor about his own people (much to their chagrin).<br /><br />As everyone went down into the tunnels, Eric hung back momentarily, gaze flicking between the descending party and the group of chocobos they would be leaving unattended with the lamia. Not that he /expected/ them to eat the chocobos, but well .. Okay, he totally expected to come back to find a chocobo barbeque - a thought that caused him more than a small amount of distress.<br /><br />The chocobo he'd brought headbutted him practically facefirst into the ground, giving a loud and commanding 'WARK!' as he choco-punted Eric after the questing party. Rubbing his possibly bruised posterior, Eric called back, "/Fine!/ But if I come back to find naught but your bones left I'll be paying you a piece of my mind in the hereafter whatever that happens to be!"<br /><br />Yeah, Eric wasn't religious - religion always gave him mental hives. And he bowed and muttered a short apology to the lamia present before darting off after the rest of the party. Trust the nobleman to be a stupid racist. And here he'd thought he'd surpassed his upbringing<br /><br />PRESENTLY<br /><br />Eric looked nervously down the two tunnels before them, silently agreeing that it would take a stupidly strong creature to make claw-marks in solid stone. Claws that could shred a poor Black Mage like so much tissue paper.<br /><br />He was brought out of his fear by Skoll's suggestion of tail-grabbing, to which Eric flushed bright red from eartip to snout, grabbed his own tail and squeaked, "My tail is /not/ for grasping! And unhand the Lady's tail this instant - /have you no shame?!!!/"<br /><br />Eric was finding this all most uncouth and was getting quite a bit flustered over this.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> One of Faruja's ear perks towards the tunnel as the others speak, the ratling too moving to feel a claw mark. As others approach, a very faint hissing sound can be heard off in the distance. "Mmm...I hear something. 'Tis...nay, it could not be. 'Tis like the airships of home!" The hissing may remind others of teapots, or perhaps, steam engines off in the distance. <br /><br /> Faruja nods to each individual. "Agreed, Shiki, Lady Hyral." Glancing to Zia, his tail flicks. <br /><br /> "More than enough room, certainly. The tunnel seems a touch more narrow. Not too far ahead, not too close Sers and dames." <br /><br /> Faruja peers at Skoll for a moment. "...'Tis...a sound plan." /Sigh/. The rat so happens to be in front of Eric. "Just do not pull /too/ hard!" <br /><br /> A sensitive lamia tongue would pick up the scent of snake-people, oil, and something best described as 'fuzzy'. It may make one want to hack up a hairball. <br /><br /> Faruja takes a deep breath. "Come now, Ser Eric, needs are as they are! Think naught of it. No doubt out lighting devices and magic shall make such an event utterly unneeded." The Burmecian waggles his tail, before starting off. "Behind me, Ser Eric. I shall protect thee." <br /><br /> ======= TEN MINUTES OF HEADING DOWNWARDS LATER ======= <br /><br /> After some time, the tunnel levels out. Faruja coughs, the sound of that hissing in the distance echoing. Roughly the length of two Syn's fully stretched out ahead, the tunnel crudely turns. Following the tunnel, seeing may just become problematic as Faruja's light gutters out. Dense fog fills the area. <br /><br /> "..Of all the Faram-damned places! 'Tis Mist! Pray thee careful with thy magicks, and with thy emotions." Pause. "...Start grabbing tails and sleeves everyone." Up ahead, in the fog, tiny yellow dots can occasionally be seen amidst the thick Mist. The hissing sound grows louder.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Use my tail, everyone. Put your hand on my tail and leave it there, and I'll try and go ssssslowly." Synestria says before looking to Nagetta. "Stick with me, my friend, and be ready. I don't truly like mist." She hisses out as well, taking a deep breath before puffing out a bit of fire from her mouth. "Well that didn't work. Can't ssssem to burn it away."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart doesn't have a tail to grab... and even less sleeve, but the leather flap of her shorts works though. If anyone reaches for her that's probably what they would grab. At least 'down there' its the most grabbable part.<br /><br />She reaches over to grab the nearest person as well "I've been in mist before, unless you're exposed it to for a long time, as in days, it shouldn't affect us too bad... let's just no stay around here for long... and hope the ones kidnapped haven't been here for too long..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel says "My own information is lacking as well, there's far too many breeds of hostile predators in the world of ruin." <br /><br /> It's as wonder anyone survives at all honestly when she thinks about it. Still it's a testament to how hardy the locals really are, far as the program sees it. However Skoll may have a better idea thankfully. <br /><br /> "Right, I can provide a bit of light but not enough I'm afraid." <br /><br /> Enough light for herself and perhaps those near here. <br /><br /> "It often depends on the context and the delivery I'm finding, it's very not a binary sort of thing." <br /><br /> Users, always full of surprises really she's learns something new about them everyday. <br /><br /> "Why Eric you seem positively flustered humm? Or would you just prefer one of the fine ladies here be the one to grasp yours." <br /><br /> She looks back to Faruja she almost says something but she holds off now isn't the time for such teasing, this however is only a delay in what she has planned for Faruja. As the trip goes on and they encounter the mist she grimaces. <br /><br /> "Lovely." <br /><br /> This could be a problem for Deelel given she really has no grab able sleeves given the form fitting nature of her clothes and she's got no tail, sense of say Zia, Eric or Faruja.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma Hyral just stares at Skoll as he grabs Zia's tail and lifts it. She might have some anime style sweatdrops and a stark blush on her face as she looks away politely. This blush turns into anime style blue wavy lines once he explains, "Uh..yeahhh, I think I'd prefer we just um. Link hands, or maybe a hand on a shoulder... Something less..." She closes her eyes as she gropes around for a word, coming up on empty. "...less /that/?" <br /> <br /> She might have been a little more critical but he does in fact look like a dog/wolf so that's easily attributed to that. She then made a mental note that if someone was to grab her 'tail' that she would definitely blast them. Anyhow she starts following Faruja, and is not tempted to grab the tail. She is definitely not tempted to grab it despite it waving around in a hypnotic manner, calling to her, beckoning to her... that it was cute was definitely not in her mind at all. Definitely... not. <br /> <br /> In the end she resists the temptation to grab the adorable Burmecian tail. There were a few close calls. <br /> <br /> Until the Mist rolls in, and hastily she gropes around for it, eventually settling on a hand on his side instead. ...more anime wavy blue lines as she continues to walk. "Mist. It makes me wonder where it all comes from..." She squints down the tunnels, unable to see much, "...you'd think there'd be large deposits of Magicite nearby."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Please be careful with my tail..." Pulling on it too hard could send Nagetta to the ground. She stays close to Synestria feeling a bit strange. She's already a monster technically so there's no telling what it might do to her. Sure there's lamias here, but not the ones from her world.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The explination offered up by Bartholomew certainly does help in some ways to settle some of her uncertainty, and the white gargoyle offers him an understanding nod. "Ah dinnae wante cause any undue distress." She murmurs softly, keeping her voice down, because in the underground, all the sounds seem to carry. "M'kind just dinnae refer te others by name often, so it was meante be a kind way of callin a friend."<br /><br />And then Skoll has to go grabbing her tail. "Wha are ye..." Okay, so he has an actual decent idea there, but she shyly tucks her loincloth down. No peeking, Sir Wolf. Uncertainly, she continues forward, feeling more than a little silly. <br /><br />With Eric being put in step behind Faruja, Zia offers him an understanding sort of look, "Ah could just hold onte yer sleave if that would be more appropriate, good Nezumi?" She asks, offering out a talon. <br /><br />Regardless of if the nobleman takes the offer or not, Zia continues along, up until the point where the lights go out. Her ears twist, listening for the sound nearby. Her eyes glow with slight alarm, but not enough to really see by. <br /><br />"Keep yer wits about ye, lads 'n lassies." She suggests, eyes scanning the darkness, trying to spot any movement in the shadows.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Shiki is liking this almost unanimous agreement with her plan! 'Don't let's die.' It's the platform she built her campaign on. She doesn't have as much experience with tunnels, whether naturally formed ones or otherwise, than Tifa (although to be fair if they did a head to head comparison it's probably just 'mythril mine' for both of them), so she just nods.<br /><br /> The idea of a rockslide though makes her feel a little less confident in herself- she hadn't even considered that idea before Zia floated it. She immediately begins to wonder if she could hold rocks up with a piercing pillar if needs be.<br /><br /> She's brought right back to bemused amusement when the subject of tails is brought up. "This brings a whole new meaning to 'getting some tail'."<br /><br /> Don't ask her to explain the joke.<br /><br /> Another thing Shiki has no experience with is Mist! Hence why, when they come upon it, she's going to say "Cliff notes on why for the first-timers?", as she finds a piece of fabric to breathe through if necessary.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>It would appear that while his idea is in some ways accepted, his tail remains untaken. And he's fine with that - just as long as people are safe. "I hope we won't need it, of course." Skoll answers, even though he continues to hold Zia's tail. He tends to have a sense for these kind of things, and just ends up sticking his tongue out at Zia and continues looking up and forwards like a gentleman. No peeking.<br /><br />Soon enough they come across the mist. But what's more, Faruja's light had gone dark. He's not as familiar with this kind of mist as the others are. So when it is brought up, the wolf lets out an odd sound. "Mist? Like from the world of Mist? Surely not." <br /><br />Seems much like Shiki, he's going to need an explaination.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>To Faruja's words, Eric flashed all shades of irritable pinks and reds, folding his arms over his chest, but following Ser Senra just the same. Hopefully the Holy Dragoon's light wouldn't go out.<br /><br />ONE HOLY OUTAGE LATER<br /><br />"DRAT!" Eric squeaked as Faru's light sputtered out, thankful for the darkness that concealed the way he was flushing crimson. He did, rather hesitantly, grab ahold of Faruja's tail - no sense getting lost somehow. To Zia's offer of grabbing his sleeve, Eric actually still remained mysteriously uncomfortable, which could be told as he said, "That... would be preferable - I'm afraid my tail is a wee bit grabby."<br /><br />That sounded like an excuse, although admittedly it was true his tail practically had a mind of its own when met with a solid object, and he quietly hoped to himself that all Zia touched /was/ his sleeve.<br /><br />"Yes, I pray we're not here too long..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel says "Hand Linking works very well to me." <br /><br /> Nagetta gets some notice from Deelel but she doesn't grab hold of it she's keeping with the group however she may offer a hand to those who'd take it as she puts the disc back on her back, so she does not like cut someone up by accident. <br /><br /> "I plan to Zia." <br /><br /> Shiki's joke however has Deelel laughing, it seems she's learned enough to get Shiki's joke. The nature of the mist does worry her but he's had no real encounters with it before. So she's at a bit of disadvantage compared to some of the others here who are aware of it. From how Eric is talking it could be very bad for their health even her own.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric somewhat belatedly realized something and wrapped his tail around one of his own ankles - it wouldn't do to trip the poor lady if her leg were to brush agai- Aaaand he locked that thought down with a steel-door trap - /definitely/ not a gentlemanly thought.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Huh?" Nagetta doesn't get Shiki's joke and has no clue why Deelel is laughing. It seemed to be an odd time to be doing so. Of course she's worried about the other lamias to have much of a sense of humor right now. She would have to ask Shiki about it later.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "The Mist oft interferes with spellcasting, heightens the emotions of those within it, and attracts monsters most vicious. Some even claim it led to the creation of my own people. Absolute nonsense of course, but it nevertheless causes odd behaviour in creatures. Particularly Viera." Shudder. Faruja remembers /that/ all too well. <br /><br /> He too is glad for the darkness, his face glowing red beneath the fur even as his tail flicks and sways as he concentrates. It's like some kind of Alma-hypnotizing device! The same one with a hand on his side. Could this trip get any more awkward? <br /><br /> The rat proceeds to get plenty of lamia tail, holding onto Syn's. "Lady Syn, if you would, use thy nose...erm, tongue...to get us through this? Lead the way, M'Lady. Keep together everyone!" Pause. "Truly, Shiki, to 'acquire some tail' would be most beneficial for all tail-less sorts!" Clearly someone /doesn't/ get the joke. <br /><br /> Like a bad lightbulb, Faruj'as light flickers on. As Syn slithers on forward, the group would be led through twists, turns, and even a light bit of water underfoot. Yellow eyes always seem to be at the edge of each person's vision, yet nothing appears. After some time, the noise of hissing is joined by the sounds of mechanical chugging. The Mist slowly becomes lighter as the tunnel heads upwards. Yet, so too does it move, looking to be actively spat down the tunnel where the group just came from, settling upon the ankles in heavy streams before rising as any bit of steam tends to do. <br /><br /> The group finally exits. Before them lays a stone cavern, glowing mushrooms lighting up the area. Crates, and wood are scattered about, as well as clothes and curiously little bits of metal ore. The bulk of the cavern is taken up by a large wooden airship, it's propeller smashed and it's side similarly wounded from what may have been a crash landing. Mist spills from the wound in the ship, the sound of a Mist engine steadily chugging within. <br /><br /> Faruja peers at the ship. "...Still running? Amazing. Hmm?" <br /><br /> Atop the deck of the ship is a cage. Within, several people can be seen. Voices both snake-ish and human cry out. "Help! Hey! Get us out of here before they come back!" One of the eldest, a lamia looking to be about twelve shouts out. <br /><br /> That's when yellow eyes peer from the wound in the ship. They crawl out, and emit a horrible sound. <br /><br /> Slitted, beady, yellow feline-like eyes gaze at the group. Four clawed, spindley limbs scrabble about as purple wings flap. Dozens of creatures known as Gimme Cats stare at the group hungrily. <br /><br /> So too is there a hunched figure among them. A robed old woman walks forward slowly, glaring out. "Fah, so /that's/ what all this racket is! Blasted kids, get off my cavern! Just as bad as those snakes, or those bumpkins!" <br /><br /> Faruja glares. "...Just let thy captives go!" Demands the rat. <br /><br /> The old woman reaches down, petting one of the felines. <br /><br /> "No! They're mine! MINE! This cavern is mine, and these little ones are my new children! And you WON'T take my cats away! Pretties! Get rid of mommy's enemies!" <br /><br /> The Gimme Cats rush forward at the behest of the Insane Gimme Cat Lady, swarming at everyone!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>When the gimme cats swarm in to attack, Synestria immediately coils herself up to protect herself and, perhaps others that are nearby. However, her attacks are less than protective. He extends her arms and fingers, casting lightning from her fingers into each of the non-grounded gimme cats.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel makes note of how the mist messes with spell casting and emotions? The former didn't mean much to Deelel, the latter however? Ya that would likely effect her. Since magic already does she figures it is only logical that it would effect her in that regard as well. <br /><br /> "You could put it that way Faruja." <br /><br /> It strange when some user humour goes over a users heard and she gets it, she also just seems amused still at how Eric took her own joke towards him. Her circuit lines give some light, well enough to see where one's going at least but there's something a bit surprising to her as she notices the nature of the cavern with there being a old airship this could explain much of it. <br /><br /> "It does seem to be functional this could explain it. <br /><br /> She hears a voice and she narrows her eyes a bit. <br /><br /> "If you wish to go that way then we have no choice to use force." <br /><br /> Hopefully they can take this old lady alive, then again she may be effected by the Mist now that she thinks about it. <br /><br /> She runs several command while hanging back and letting the others get the cats attention. She'll be moving in shortly, she just needed time to prepare herself.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart isn't sure if she's relieved or not that its heartless, but Gimme Cats. She likes cats, but those... are rather creepy with those big glowing eyes. Ugh. She wonders what's up with this scene though. Normally people hold cats as pets. Now its the pets wanting to keep the humans/lamias? Looks like its all in reverse. "They didn't ask for this! Just let them go!"<br /><br />Looks like talkign won't work here, as the cats swarm all around her. She tries to swipe them out of the way, but that doesn't work very well, there's too many of them. They pile and scratch at her, before she grabs them and tosses them off with a screech as they left their marks on her exposed skin "Stay away!" What she wouldn't give for some sort of catnip trap to lure them off right now. But as the next wave of hopping cats approachs, she lashes out with her legs to knock them away.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Shiki sighs.<br /><br /> Human chains mean that she can't put anything over her mouth, and Mr. Mew's not going to attach himself to her face this time. He's also not going to hold anyone's hand, because he's much smaller than all of you. In fact, it's difficult as all get out to see where he IS in this mist, what with it being so low-hanging and all that. You can't even see the torch any more!<br /><br /> And so, on we go, jokes being hit and miss, mostly miss. <br /><br /> Shiki is... face...faulting... a little? "How did an airship get underground?!"<br /><br /> This doesn't make sense! We definitely went down a lot of tunnels! <br /><br />But more important to Shiki than the airship is the...-<br /><br /> Flashback. Flashback to a mountain, filled with flowers. A mountain with a problem. A scraggly, yellow-eyed, winged, annoying, infuriating problem.<br /><br /> /Gimme Cat/.<br /><br /> "Don't give them any diamonds!" Shiki blurts out, seemingly for no reason. It was a bad time. Also, cat attack.<br /><br /> Several of them go leaping at her and she runs crazy through the mist, pausing only to pull out her mythril rod. If a cat gets near her, BASEBALL BAT TIME.<br /><br /> ...where /did/ Mr. Mew go?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The gargoyle does take hold of Eric's sleeve, but doesn't go further than that. She's properly polite, afterall. For all his protestations, she decides to keep her mouth shut. This is just an adventure, into a dark tunnel, with horrible monsters, and possibly gruesome death. "Maybe we should be a wee bit quieter." She notes to Eric, perhaps trying to get him to not exclaim quite so loudly.<br /><br />She protects herself from the Mist with her scarf, pulling it up over her nose, which leaves her looking like some sort of gargoyle assassin. It's not a bad look, if not a bit strange.<br /><br />As they finally come upon the source of the trouble, Zia ends up pulling her tail free from Skoll's hand, taking a step forward as her wings flare out behind her. The people in cages are enough to tell her that there is danger. And then, it's crazy cat-lady. At least she doesn't have a cat-zooka. "Ye better no' get beaten by cats, wolf-boy." She mutters, and then considers the fact that there's two mice here. Poor Nezumi.<br /><br />Since there's more room in here, the gargoyle takes to the skies instead, or at least takes to the upper level of the room, her claws digging into stone as she hangs upside down like some giant bat. "Ah'll see if Ah can slow them down a wee bit for ye!" She calls out, weaving a spell that causes some water to roil up from the ground and dampen the felines, followed by cold to freeze their paws to the ground. <br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Cats? Nagetta certainly wasn't expecting that. At least the lamia children seemed to be alright for the time. Still they would have to deal with the felines first. She wonders if the woman has spent too much time in the mist gauging her reaction to them. There isn't too much for her to think about that.<br /><br /> At least there was enough room for her to jump around in here. The dragoon coils up before springing into the air, bouncing from cat to cat.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The Alma hypnotizing device continues to work her magic. At one point she gets swirly eyes and starts to reach it. <br /> <br /> Fortunately lights, and the appearance of the Mist ship snap her out of it just in time. The appearance of people in /cages/ do that more than most. Alma's expression becomes rather flat at that moment, as she just stares at the Insane Old Woman. "Overpossessive much?" <br /> <br /> A yellow corona springs over her at that point illuminating part of the area around her. The Gimme Cats rush forward, swarming her. She reflexively tries to dive out of the way, as a burst of streaking orbs of light which look much like stars are fired back at them. They miss, and she ends up with a very chagrined look. Oh well, it was mostly her pride that was wounded. <br /> <br /> She then weaves a few enchantments upon herself to start working at those wounds, and the nearby figure of the Gargoyle who appears to be hanging from the ceiling(Which she found incredibly awesome by the way), as she begins to rise off the ground, taking some refuge near the cavern roof as well.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The wolf continues to hang onto that tail, trusting in that they'll be led correctly. It's when they come out into the 'opening' that the wolf finally lets go. There's light after all. He is quick to move in front of Zia and gets ready for battle, getting into a pugalist's stance. "Heartless!?" He calls out. But no, they're not heartless. They're...<br /><br />"Don't you worry. I am not about to get beaten by some mere cats." He growls, his tail poofing out. Some might notice that the wolf's teeth seem a little more pronounced than normal, and his hair is a bit more of a mess. In the darkness, it seems that the mist made the werewolf just a tad more werewolfy. Though it's likely to be nothing but a temporary effect. And it doesn't look like Skoll is particularly more aggressive.<br /><br />"Please do." The wolf waits for the Gargoyle to cast her slowing magic, and then runs straight on in. Little claws might hit him here and there, but the wolf doesn't halt. Instead, he just keeps going, kicking and punching left and right, and then finishing it with a big 'wave' of a ice-made wolf being sent forwards into the group towards the ship itself. He'll break it - so they can't flee!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Eh, erm... yes..." Eric responded to Zia, and then coughed, pretending absolutely /no outbursts/ had occured on his part.<br /><br />When they reached the airship, Eric was likewise impressed that it was still functional, but gave a nervous squeak as the eyes appeared from the deep crack in its size. Gimme Cats! The fiends! As someone who'd lived in Lindblum for two years, Eric had met these fiends before although never more than one at once, nevermind quite this many As the party and the 'owner' of the glare of Gimme Cats 'discussed' matters, Eric sincerely hoped the old woman would see reason, but as she didn't Eric said, "Now see he-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE!!!!"<br /><br />He tried to dodge, having long since dropped Ser Senra's tail, but it was no use as the attack of the cats pummeled into him, sending him careening backwards!<br /><br />"..... Owhowhow!" he squeaked, staggering back to a standing position. He whimpered, remaining seated uselessly upon his tail - he'd always run from these things, never fought them himself! Not entirely sure what exactly to do, he muttered a spell under his breath, summoning up a chill wind that would hopefully not harm those running straight into the fray. He also cast Toad on those Gimme Cats he could spot that weren't near anyone - no sense turning his allies into amphibians! Assuming he even /could/ turn anything into amphibians.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> The old woman spies Zia leaping to the skies. Gimme Cats whine as they get wet, causing the woman no end of rage. Shaking her staff, heat rises up, melting away the cold that would otherwise hurt her precious babies! <br /><br /> Everywhere that Skoll strikes, felines get swatted, followed by his creation of ice. This time, the heat can't stifle it! The blow causes the derelict ship to crack up the middle. Down goes the cage, as well! <br /><br /> Thud! The cage proves to be of inadequate construction, old iron bars shattering. The kids, though in a jumble of snake and human, seem to be relatively uninjured from first glance. Several eyes may look dazed though! <br /><br /> "MIIIIIINE! You whippersnappers don't know anything!" Yells out the Old Woman in response to Alma, as Nagetta's bouncing, Shiki's staff-wacking, and Syn's lighting leads to many of the group of kitties being on the floor. Tifa's efforts prove less useful, as some of the more agile winged felines fly upwards, one sent spinning but unharmed. <br /><br /> Faruja casts spells upon some of his closest companions, before leaping into the air. He lands before the dazed kids, swiping and generally defending the children from attack by evil felines. His spear's butt lands solid whacks against many of them. <br /><br /> "LORD IN HEAVEN I HATE GIMME CATS! BE GONE WITH YE VILE GANGLY SPINDLY FIENDS!" <br /><br /> Cue the old lady's wrath. "WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU VILE RODENT! PIPE DOWN, YOUNGIN'!" <br /><br /> She raises her staff, and plumes of fire surround Faruja, Shiki, and Skoll. Screams of terror erupt from the Burmecian as a Flare spell lights him up, the ratling flailing about as he burns, rolling on the ground.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma winces, visibly. Flare spell. <br /> <br /> On her world that was a forbidden art, not even known to most Black Mages. Most whispered it was one of the most extreme examples of Chaos Magic. And while she knew better now... it made it no less painful to watch it being brought to bear against Faruja. Which is why she began to pour all of her healing magic into him, at once. <br /> <br /> An infusion of holy light which began to work at healing the most horrific of his burns, and correct the internal problems caused by the sudden heat blast wave. She lowered herself down to her work, sweat beading on her forehead as she continued to focus on healing the remainder of his injuries.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Even as her first spell is cast, Zia can feel the strange magic already working it's way through her. She glances down, realizing that Alma is the source of it. "Thank ye, lass!" She calls, which probably isn't the best of ideas, since it's a good way to attract the enemy to her position. Meep!<br /><br />She manages to keep ahead of them by moving across the ceiling, looking more like spider-goyle than anything else. There's not enough room for real flight. Then, of course, there is shouting, and fire. Shouting and fire can only mean one thing... Burmecian barbeque. <br /><br />At the last moment, Zia pulls the wave from the cats over to cover the Nezumi, hoping to at least put out the flames as she focuses the rest of her magic on trying to keep the little cat-things away from the others.<br /><br />A heavy wind blows through, hopefully launching cats into the air all over the chamber, only to have a rain of lightning throw them back down again into the ground below, possibly puffed up from static electricity. <br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart doesn't seem to have luck with these creatures, that's for sure. She heard Shiki talk about diamonds, maybe she can bait them away from the rest for a moment using one? She has a crystal that looks like a crystal, its face but she got it as a bonus for buying bottles at a shop. Shop owner insisted too, she had forgotten about it in her pocket until now, butits worth a try.<br /><br />She picks up the ring, which has an exagerated crystal size atop of it, quickly breaking the ring part of it to keep the crystal in her hand, and holding it up "Hey kitties, I heard you like this?" And then she runs off with it. She's trying to get some heat off the others at least, limiting numbers while they take down the ones left, classic 'kiting' strategy here... Well its worth a try! Meanwhile she casts some spells to help the others at the task too.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Nagetta cringes as she hears the woman's voice, it was hurting her ears a bit. It would be easier to fight if she didn't have to listen to it. She also decides to keep her in place to keep her from giving orders to the cats. That should make it easier for the others to deal with. The lamia casts a few spells hoping the mist wouldn't cause problems with them.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Synestria shakes her head at the old lady bringing down more gimme cats at them. She doesn't bother with words, except the arcane version where she throws out more lightning for the flying cat heads to deal with.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric had to chuckle momentarily at Faruja's verbal condemnation of the Gimme Cats, but that was all the time it took for the old woman to turn the tables on the Templar and his friends.<br /><br />"FARU!!!" the scream practically tore from the bottom of his soul as he watched the Burmecian collapse and writhe in a great plume of fire!<br /><br />He ran forwards, but there were already others helping the fallen Templar, so Eric summoned a wave of water to wash over anyone else who had been lit ablaze - it was all he could do with his mind coated in rage.<br /><br />"YOU <GOOSEHONK> <GOOSEHONK>, HE'S BURNED ENOUGH AS IT IS!!! I'LL SHOW YOU A TASTE OF YOUR OWN MEDICINE YOU <GOOSEHONK>!!!"<br /><br />And then the old woman would be finding herself and her cats contending with fire of their own, as Eric practically screamed the chant for Firaga.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel has avoided the cat swarms wrath for the moment, others like Faruja are not so lucky. She hears her friend yelling about how he hates Gimme Cats. She also wonders what Shiki meant about not giving them diamonds she'll have to ask later if she thinks of it. <br /><br /> "It could be possible the mist has warped the woman's mind." <br /><br /> Flare is not a spell to mess about with, oh it's totally not one to mess with lightly just from the destruction it could cause. Such as what it did to poor Faruja. Ya it's time to get into the mix now with disc in hand she lunges into the cat swarm launching a fairly furious barrage of disc strikes while always bouncing, weaving another wise trying to make way through the swarm.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Sneak sneak sneak.<br /><br /> Sneak...<br /><br /> Sneak sneak sneak...<br /><br /> Mr. Mew's still got that knife. And he's sneaking up on the crazy cat lady. With a knife. Sneak, sneak. Slowly. Closing in on the lady. With his knife.<br /><br /> Sneak sneak... almost... in range... just about... THERE!<br /><br /> Mr. Mew throws the knife to her left, because it's a distraction! This is a Disney game, what did you think I was going to do? After that, he totally jumps on her face. <br /><br /> Shiki is having a rougher time of it! There might not be much mist left after this, assuming the flare spells vaporise it (or does it work that way? We are talking about tortured, pureed gaian souls here rather than water vapour. Oh, I made myself sad again). She's got to concentrate entirely on dodging, because there are a lot of pillars and she's /really/ not in any condition to take even one. Faruja and Skoll being on the worst end of the flames as well, plus Alma chipping in to heal him just as quickly, pass by in a blur as she moves back and forth trying not to get fried.<br /><br /> She doesn't know if the mist would affect her Pins- she realises vaugely that she hasn't even made a Pact this time- so she'll have to just suck it and see. So she's going to be using safe stuff- no giant ice pillars, just putting the cats in deep freeze and whacking them with her Nikkari-Rod combo.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>When fire comes, Skoll is the heck out of there - leaving Faruja to be 'baked' by the power of Flare. He obviously has his own problems to deal with though. As Zia brings the cats into the air near him, they continues to lash out. And the wolf needs every bit of his skill to stay out of their greedy little claws. Not to mention, with every single swipe, he has to protect his keychains. His precious precious keychains. No way he'll let some dirty /cat/ have his chains.<br /><br />The werewolf growls at the beasts and ends up ducking underneath another swipe before he starts running straight towards the crazy and batty ol' lady. But instead of assaulting her, he suddenly jumps into the air in a method that... well... normally is reserved to people who put all their points into JUMP - like a Dragoon. And he's quick to access the boat itself and starts breaking locks!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> The holy power that flows over him, as well as the wind-magic blowing against him both help quell the flames eating at Faruja, the ratling lightly sizzling. He's curled up on the ground now, shivering, muttering words quietly. He's alive, but still severely burnt even with the pair's magicks. <br /><br /> Phobia Gained: Crazy Cat Mages <br /><br /> Thanks to Zia's magic, kitties go flying, not able to make a meal of the downed Burmecian. Lightning rains down, several twitching and making a horrid racket. As Tifa runs away, a few others start to follow her, each yelling 'Gimme!'. <br /><br /> Nagetta's and Syn's spells too reduce the cats' numbers. Deel's Disc goes flying, hitting several, the swarm swiftly being reduced. Then, as the old woman is raising her hands to cast again, there is a kitty. A Mr. Mew, right on her face. She starts yelling. <br /><br /> "Noooo my pretty! Get off of mommy! No treats! Bad! BAAAAAD!" <br /><br /> Shiki's freeing and rodding has blocks of Gimme Cats being tossed about too. One pings off of the airship. Thwack! <br /><br /> Skoll runs through the airship! Locks break! Soon enough, he may just find the Mist Engine itself, chugging away. From how corroded it looks one swift swat to a particularly bad looking lugnut would send the entire thing to a grinding halt. <br /><br /> The Insane Gimme Cat Lady is not amused. Screaming, she raises her arm for one more spell as she witnesses Eric's Firaga spell burn many of her felines to ash as she thrashes around beneath Mr. Mew. "STOP HURTING MY PRETTIES!" <br /><br /> She incants, powerful magic filling the air. Time Magic. The world seems to spin as everyone, cat, lamia, human, nezumi, and old lady are sucked up. Seems she's a little batty though, as it takes some time, leaving just enough time for preperations. <br /><br /> Nor does everyone get spat out at the same place. <br /><br /> ======= At the entrance to the Lamia's Den ======= The green haired Lamia and her guards glare at the Old Village Elder and his cohorts. Guards, human and lamia alike, look nervous. Accusations fly! It all stops as a portal opens up. Heroes rain down between the two groups, swiftly followed by lamia and human children. Finally, the old lady hits the dirt, unconscious. <br /><br /> Human and Lamia alike rush forward, hugging their missing kin. Faruja is still curled up in a ball. <br /><br /> ======= Back at the Human Village ======= A farmer looks up. Yellow eyes appear! Everywhere, unconscious Gimme Cats rain from the sky, punching holes in rooftops.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Shiki Misaki lands in a haystack! BUT WHERE IS HER HAT?!<br /><br /> She will have to journey across the peril-packed universe, boldly facing the flesh-rending dangers that await her, to retrieve that hat, where it has been adopted as the symbol of a bizarre religion by a group of Gremlins! Thrills and spills await her as- oh wait it's just on top of Mr. Mew.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma pours some more healing magic into the singed Nezumi for good measure. And then she heard the incantation of time magic. <br /> <br /> Her recent lessons made her pay extreme attention to what the crazy old lady was doing. This was... interesting. She didn't recognize /that/ spell. Oh crap, that's because on her world it was Black Magic. This was... <br /> <br /> "Oh <GOOSEHONK>!" <br /> <br /> The warp portal magic sucks her up into it, along with the rest, as she's deposited unceremoniously on the ground. For a while she definitely has the wind knocked out of her, laying there stunned upon the ground. /Ow/ "Note to self: See if he can teach me that one." <br /> <br /> She groaned, then began to get up and triage the rest of the children for injuries. The Old Lady could wait until last. She didn't particularly want to heal the wounds Mister Mew had inflicted at the behest of Shiki, aka Princess Stabbity, yet.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Indeed, with a loud CLUNK that mist-engine goes grinding to a halt. Of course, not moments later some magic sweeps the area, and poor Faruja is swept into it much like everyone else. <br /><br />FLOOMP. Skoll lands on his butt in the most undignified way. He blinks a few times. "Man, that was a soft landing." He comments, looking around a little. He seems to be a little higher than ground level. It appears he might have landed /on top/ of someone. But he's not yet quite realized this and is just remaining seated on the poor victim.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zia's mouth opens to cast another spell towards the ranting cat-lady and her minions, but whatever latin incantation she would have actually been murmuring is cut off and twisted into a shout of surprise as they all seem to get sucked up and shot through the nyan-cat warp tunnel of doom. It's kind of like that one level in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. Except there's no coins to collect for bashing flying pigs.<br /><br />The gargoyle is spat out and without her wings to catch her fall, she ends up slamming into Skoll, who is ontop of someone else, and possibly sending the wolf tumbling in the process. Let's hope he gets ran into with the soft bits and not, you know, gangly gargoyle knee spines or something.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart was a bit away from the group when the warp spell was used. So for a moment there's no signs of the barmaid. Until there's a cry from the nearby tree. Apparently that's where she got tossed out, after being chased by the Gimme Cats all over the cave, and now she's hanging from that tail-part of her shorts. That's a good sign of how resistant her clothes are, not ripping at the seams even with her entire weight on them.<br /><br />"Hey... anyone can help me down?" -.-<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel would retort that the lady was the one that wanted to make use of violence in the first place. She's then caught in the wind she just lets out a cry as she's sent flying she might end up landing somewhere very comically. This is certainly a very much a oh <Goosehonk> sort of situation as she comes in in one of the villages? Deelel can't tell as part of her clothes are hooked from a tree and she just kinda hanging there dazed and very confused as she says. <br /><br /> "It's not supposed to work that way." <br /><br /> She could really use a hand getting down from this, she really could ha hand. <br /><br /> "A little help here...anyone?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "...Lord help me" Mutters poor, frightened Faruja as he's squished by first a werewolf, followed by a Gargoyle atop said werewolf. Luckily Alma's there with healing. The Burmecian grabs the nearest thing huggable: Skoll's tail. Hug. Cue cuddling wolf tails for comfort. <br /><br /> It doesn't take long as the children relate the story, the two sides soon shifting their focus to the old woman, and their heroes. The old lady is taken away, even as the others are tended to by snake and human healer alike. Even poor Tifa and Deelel are both helped out of a tree. <br /><br /> ====== Shard Seekers and Allies: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED ======<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Skoll has the /weirdest/ look on his face, as the Gargoyle ends up landing into his lap with her squishy butt, and then those eyes go wide as Faruja grabs hold of his tail. "Ehhh..." The wolf looks down at the rat, and then up at the Gargoyle. In the end... he ends up just shrugging and remains seated.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric B. Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"WELL DON'T KIDNAP PEOPLE OR SET MY FRIENDS ON FIRE AND WE WON'T HAVE TO HURT YOUR <GOOSEHONK> PRETTIES YOU CRAZY <GOOSEHONK>!" shouted Eric, about a moment before he noticed the Time Magic being cast, and then they were all pulled elsewhere.<br /><br />Eric landed in an undignified heap, much like everyone else did, but fortunately a few paces away from Ser Senra.<br /><br />"Faru?" he squeaked, a study of concern crossing his face. He rose to go over (and tell off a werewolf and gargess for landing on him, as little fault as there was on their part), but he paused. These were Ser Senra's friends - they could take care of the stricken Burmecian much better than he could. So he remained distant, letting the collective efforts of the real heroes and the healers take care of the noble Templar. Eric could just slip away quietly, once no one was paying attention to a beat-up noblemouse.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_Bartholomew_Mimsy_III Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III 2013-12-17T21:36:09Z

<p>Megkitty87: Megkitty87 moved page Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III to Eric B. Mimsy III: To shorten the name to match in-MUSH</p> <hr /> <div>#REDIRECT [[Eric B. Mimsy III]]</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-12-17T21:36:08Z

<p>Megkitty87: Megkitty87 moved page Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III to Eric B. Mimsy III: To shorten the name to match in-MUSH</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> |footer=Discovered lightcycles and loves them - God/Faram/etc. help us all.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and his brothers were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> =Relationship Chart=<br /> ==Family==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Laurana "Laurie" Celene Taylor<br /> | Sister (NPC)<br /> | "..... I fear I have wronged you too greatly to expect your forgiveness, even if I had only the best of intentions at the time. I should have known better, and I hope that you yet live that I might make amends for my ignorance..."<br /> |-<br /> | Johnathan Taylor<br /> | Brother-in-law (NPC)<br /> | "...I only wish I'd seen the goodness in your heart sooner, and pray that you somehow survived, but as a guardsman... you would have been at the fore of the defense, wouldn't you?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Friends==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Mogina<br /> | Housekeeper (NPC)<br /> | "What incorrigible staff I keep! Although I suppose I would be alone in the world if not for you..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Acquaintances==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Faruja Senra<br /> | Helpful!<br /> | "You are a good and honorable nezu, and I am most grateful for your assistance... but I will have a most delightful time finding out just how far your patience will go..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Blood Relatives==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Eric Bartholomew Mimsy II<br /> | Father (NPC)<br /> | "..... We may share a name, you may have my fear, but you will own me no more!"<br /> |-<br /> | Celene Norena Mimsy<br /> | Mother (NPC)<br /> | "You never really loved us, did you? True, you certainly went through the motions in rasing us, but... I've since learned that mothers actually /protect/ their children, even from their husbands..."<br /> |-<br /> | Cedric Connor Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "Hah! You change religions faster than I sell furniture! I have no respect for a nezu who cannot decide even on his own principals! ...although I suppose your principals are entirely political, aren't they?"<br /> |-<br /> | Derrick Rowan Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "You... You are as adept at crafting the opinions of others as our father, but I still know you from when we were children. Have you really transformed into an honorable dragoon?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Enemies==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> |}<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Ginger Ginger 2013-12-07T22:02:21Z

<p>Megkitty87: Created page with "{{Character Infobox |firstname=Ginger |age=22 |species=Werewolf (or varg) |sex=Female |height=6'5" |weight=..... |series=Final Fantasy 6 |styles=Thief |hometown=Unknown |align..."</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Ginger<br /> |age=22<br /> |species=Werewolf (or varg)<br /> |sex=Female<br /> |height=6'5"<br /> |weight=.....<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 6<br /> |styles=Thief<br /> |hometown=Unknown<br /> |alignment=Forces of Restoration<br /> |group=The Returners<br /> |occupation=Rogue<br /> |quote=I hate clothes, I hate chains, I hate restraints… I hate being controlled. I will never be controlled again!<br /> |footer=Seeking The Returners that remain.<br /> }}<br /> = Appearance =<br /> To be described...<br /> = Personality =<br /> Having been a slave crown victim since a young age, Ginger is still recovering psychologically, and thus her true personality is a bit stifled. She initially presents as being unusually aggressive for a werewolf from her world – those that have actually met them would note that they run more towards kind or even timid natures – and is particularly defensive over food, resulting in her preferring to sit on the floor to eat instead of at the table. She feels stifled in normal amounts of clothing, becoming increasingly cranky the longer she wears it, and thus tends to wear only the barest essentials for decency when not wearing her armor. In fact she tends to strip out of her armor once she reaches a place deemed to be safe – the increased aggression is only useful in battle – causing a spectacle for any males in the vicinity.<br /> <br /> At heart, she wishes to fight not only for her own freedom and safety, but for the freedom and safety of others, which was why she’d stayed on with the Returners instead of running off into the forest. Their creed resonates with her soul, and she’ll do anything to keep those she cares about and those that can’t defend themselves from being subjugated by those that would seek to stamp them under their heel by force. She actually has very little respect for authority because of this – not that she goes out of her way to break rules (except perhaps dress codes), but she merely holds them in no higher regard than anyone else, the only difference being dependent upon how they treated her. She is especially fond of children, devolving shamelessly into more doggish behavior since she knew it amused her smallest friend from before the fall of her world. She’ll even play fetch, or catch Frisbees and balls in her mouth, which most canine humanoids would find absolutely insulting. As she has almost no sense for embarrassment, or societal norms in general, she pays it no mind at all.<br /> = History =<br /> Designated Subject #3107 by the Gestahlian Empire, she was one of the last test subjects in the development of the slave crown. She does not remember her actions during her control, nor does she remember who she was before, but she is fortunate to have lost her memory instead of her life. Regardless, as a surviving test subject, she was wielded as a weapon, sent to take out anything that was seen as a threat to the Empire. One day, under mysterious circumstances during a mission, her slave crown broke. Thinking she would remember their abuse of her and attack, the Imperial soldiers sent with her took a preemptive strike, but she fought back and managed to kill several of them before fleeing into the woods. Frightened and with no memory, she retreated into the wilds of the world, living as an animal for years.<br /> <br /> On one fateful day, she was caught in a bear-trap, and was found by the huntsman who had set them. He was a Returner hiding in the mountains with his family and some fellow Returners, and despite her ferocious behavior recognized her at once as a sentient being and brought her home. There, her wounds were treated by the field medic of the group, and she was given food and water. Still suspicious of them, she had a tendency of trying to escape their hideaway even before her wounds had fully healed, unintentionally extending her healing time.<br /> <br /> For all that she had bitten and scratched them, she did have to wonder why they were keeping her alive, and in fact a lot of the other Returners had this same question (although she would not realize this until later). The huntsman and field medic ascertained that she was likely a victim of the Empire somehow – either orphaned at a very young age or suffering some mental trauma that had turned her savage – and that as Returners fighting against the injustices of the Empire it was their solemn duty to help her. At this point, the huntsman’s young daughter proclaimed that their guest needed a name – at least so that the men didn’t default to calling her ‘the dog’ or a certain other, less tasteful word – and thereupon the little girl decreed that the werewolf would henceforth be called ‘Ginger’ until they could find out her real name.<br /> <br /> So the Returners kept Ginger until she was fully healed, teaching her to speak simple phrases all the while, and then she took advantage of a lapse in the guards’ attention and ran out the door. She spent a few days in the surrounding woods, but oddly found herself gravitating back towards the large log cabin they were staying in, eating the food the little girl left out for her every night in the hopes that she would return. One night, the little girl was sitting outside waiting for Ginger, crooning some song into the starlit sky. Approaching the girl, very hesitantly, Ginger inquired in a grammatically primitive manner as to why the girl was waiting for her. The girl simply replied, “Because I love you. And we all need to help each other anyway, right?”<br /> <br /> “…Love?” Ginger had asked, head cocked to one side in partial confusion and partial fear at the stab of endearment that had lanced through her at the sound of the familiar yet unfamiliar word.<br /> <br /> “Oh yeah, it’s when you care about someone a lot!” the girl had cheerfully explained, completely oblivious to her friend’s stricken state. “Seriously, no one’s taught you that word yet? It’s the most important one there is!”<br /> <br /> After that, Ginger remained on with the Returners, learning more about language and about them. They were part of an organization of freedom fighters, established to throw off the Empire and return power to the people. After her experience with the slave crown – which, after recounting her earliest memories to the huntsman and doctor, they told her she was subjected to – she wanted to help others avoid the same fate. As time carried on, they taught her to first defend herself, then how to fight, finding she had a greater talent with close combat and knives. She and the girl often played together, finding kinship in one another’s company, to the simultaneous elation and grief of the girl’s father. He prayed their happiness would simply last forever, even if he knew it likely would not.<br /> <br /> Those prayers went unanswered - the Empire had found them, and lay siege to the large log cabin in which they were staying. Through a series of underground tunnels, Ginger, the huntsman’s wife and daughter, as well as half of the Returners staying there were able to flee into the woods, but the rest were slain covering their escape. As they fled, a squadron from the Empire found them and attacked, scattering them such that Ginger was separated from everyone else. She was trying to find her way to their rendezvous point when the world fell to darkness, and at present is trying to find any remnants of The Returners, hoping to find any remaining members of her ‘family’.<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/User:Megkitty87 User:Megkitty87 2013-09-24T01:00:00Z

<p>Megkitty87: Put some info up, may add more later.</p> <hr /> <div>Roleplayer of Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III. (I really need to shorten his wiki page title and in-game name to Eric B. Mimsy III or something in the hopes of matching them so I don't have to constantly edit the wiki-logs. ^^; )<br /> <br /> gmail: megkitty87@gmail.com<br /> <br /> Schedule: Mostly free, but I shouldn't stay up past 10 p.m. EST too often since my parents wake up early to go to work and I don't want to wake them up going to bed past midnight too often.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Lamia_Seekers Lamia Seekers 2013-08-21T17:24:01Z

<p>Megkitty87: Putting in the rest of Eric's name... really need to abbreviate his middle name sometime...</p> <hr /> <div>{{Log Header<br /> |Date of Scene=2013/08/13<br /> |Location=Chocobo Fields<br /> |Synopsis=Kidnappings lead Faruja and his considerable posse to investigate rumors of Lamia mischief. <br /> |Cast of Characters=Zeke, Faruja Senra, Skoll Ulfang, Tifa Lockhart, Shiki Misaki, Zia, Nagetta, Deelel, Synestria, Evja, Alma Hyral, Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III<br /> |pretty=yes<br /> }}<br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> ~~OUTSIDE LINDBLUM, A SMALL FARMING COMMUNITY~~ <br /><br /> The small rural community outside Lindblum is in an uproar. About a week ago, a prospecting miner fell right into the underground den of a family of Lamia. Aside from surprise on both parties, things were swiftly smoothed over; both local humans and snake-people alike were content to trade and otherwise stay out of each other's business. That is, until three days ago. First, it was a baker's son. Then the local priest's cousin. And finally, the mayor's grandson. All three dissappeared, with no explaination! Only shadowy figures and strange eyes in the darkness. <br /><br /> Faruja Senra and his companions from the Shard Seekers stand before the bald, short, hunched figure of an old human. Leaning on two canes, sitting back on a barrel, his beard very nearly touches the floor. What passes for local militia, two burly farmers with pitchforks, stands guard. The entire community seems keyed up, and eyes the strangers before them with suspicion. <br /><br /> Faruja inwardly sighs. For the last half hour, the old man has been lecturing the group about 'horrible, evil, man-eating snake women' coming from the darkness to eat their fellows. Finally, the rat's had enough. <br /><br /> "AHEM! Honored Mayor, 'tis all well and good, however let us get down to the point of the matter; where is their den, and how long ago did they dissappear?" <br /><br /> The old man huh's, and blinks. "Ehhh? Three days ago! To the north! Weren't you paying attention young man?" Whack! A cane swiftly swats the Burmecian's head. "And don't talk back to your elders!"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"You heard the man. Don't talk back to 'yer elders." Skoll muses, standing right next to the rat with his arms crossed. He then pats the Burmecian's shoulder and smirks at him. "Come on, let's go." Skoll actually paid attention throughout the entire thing, which is in a ways amazing. But then, knowing who and what Skoll is, one has to have an enormous amount of patience one way or the other.<br /><br />The werewolf quickly looks behind Faruja at the others who might also have gathered here. Sure they brought Chocobos for the ride? Assuming the Chocobos didn't /fall asleep/ while listening to the priest drone on and on... and on... and on...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>If this sort of scene didn't call the attention of another of their number, who knows what would? <br /> <br /> Synestria, as a result of this call, has joined Faruja's little band, whether she was part of the Shard Seekers or not. She stares at the mayor, but then pats Faruja on the shoulder. "Come on, Mousey. The sooner we find why their doing this, the sooner we can either convince them to stop, or stop them."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Shiki Misaki isn't quite sure what to make of all this. She remembers meeting Nagetta- so she knows for a fact that lamia aren't just like regular monsters. She's not quite sure what to make of this disappearence, and she's mostly coming along to make sure nobody gets hurt on either side. Or if the worst comes to the worst, well... snakes don't like cold.<br /><br /> She hopes it doesn't come to that.<br /><br />However, because she's so unsure, she's been quite silent- hanging near the back of the group, following in a funk. She's certainly NOT been bored asleep by the priest.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart intercepts the cane whipping suddenly, an open hand stopping it just an inch over Faruja's head. She gives a glare to the man, an invitation to never do that again to people that would be helping them.<br /><br />She took the Shard Seeker's invitation to help out with the search, since she's been around the Chocobo Fields alot. Its close to home, to her bar, and to the ranch, and she's visited the area alot while training her chocobo.<br /><br />The sound of a 'kweh' comes from behind, where the fire red chocobo is standing, ruffling his feathers a bit, trotting around the familiar area as well... as if it was already doing some searching on its own.<br /><br />She shakes her head, leaving the old man be for now "So we should be starting the search up north hm?" She turns over to meet up with the chocobo, hopping up on its saddle.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>It's probably a good thing that Zia didn't come to this particular mission without her cloak. If the old man has this much of an issue with snake women, what would he think of a gargoyle? Better not to find out. "Crazy old bat." She mutters under her breath, making sure she's out of ear-shot and out of the reach of his cane.<br /><br />The white gargoyle glances at Faruja, then the array of others, but since the poor Templar has already got supporters crowded around them, she sinks to the background, walking along with her cloak dangling near her feet, trying not to let the great taloned appendages be seen. Why must there still be worlds that look down on certain non-humans. <br /><br />It just so happens she's standing near Shiki as they head out, and the gargoyle offers her a look from her cloak-covered eyes. "Good thing ye didnae show him yer cat-friend. He'd probably had us all chased wi' pitchforks."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma needed something to take her mind off /things/. Angsty /things/ that don't need to be recounted here. <br /> <br /> Fortunately the Shard Seekers appeared to be offering her an oppurtunity to do that. And while her first impression of them was horrible on the account of being made a scullery maid in Mullonde for a few days by Faruja after blessing him in the name of another deity when she couldn't pay the fine. Her second impression was even worse because of the incorrigible Ivo Galvan taking advantage of an amnesiac when she visited their headquarters.. she decided to give them another chance. <br /> <br /> Third times a charm right? She hoped so. <br /> <br /> Faruja gets whacked by a cane, and she winces, giggling just a little bit. I mean /what/!? He deserved it! Scullery maid! She was wearing her typical White Mage robes, even if a pair of denim jeans and boots peaked out from beneath the hem. <br /> <br /> Once she stifled that giggle she states in a voice that's entirely too solemn, "You really should pay more attention, Faruja." <br /> <br /> She gave some of the others gathered curious looks, she didn't know most of them, but introductions could come in time. Her gaze lingered on Zia for a moment, as she reminded her of the Gargoyle she'd seen with the TDA.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Oh hey, Alma's here. Shiki gives her a little wave.<br /><br /> I'm so sorry about Ivo! I'm so, so sorry! her eyes seem to say.<br /><br />How could you maintain a low opinion of the Shard Seekers when Shiki's here? And Mr. Mew is here too! He pokes his head out from under Shiki's hat and just seems to give Zia this deadpan look.<br /><br /> How, we're not sure.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel had met a few Lamias in her life notably one that was a dragoon, that was one of the most crazy sights she'd ever seen. Not in a bad way but for how amazing the world was. She knew still this could be a problem. Just what was going on with the Lamias? She'd kept quiet after all she wasn't human and well? Given the stare the people are in they don't need to know something that some would consider an unnatural creature was lurking about, actually helping them. <br /><br /> She looks over to Faruja she'd not been fond of Chocobos for ride, honestly. She preferred something that became an extension of herself like a lightcyle. Sigh she does not look too good as she hangs on to the Chocobo looking like it might explode at any moment. <br /><br /> "How do you all ride these things?!?" <br /><br /> The others words are not ignored but she's looking wigged out by the darn bird. The chocobo almost seems to be enjoying her discomfort.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke shared Deelel's dislike of riding birds. "I dunno love but horses these things aint." He looked positivly green. As for Lamia... given who and what he had in his crew and said dragoon-lamia had an open invitation to join if she had need or inclination he was more than willing to give anything a chance. "Please," He sounded more tha na little despirate, "What's the secret of these ruddy feathered beasts?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III wasn't entirely sure why he was here. Maybe he'd wanted to get out of Lindblum from a busy day of catching up with business, or maybe he was actually interested in rescuing inhabitants of Lindblum... or maybe he'd just heard Faruja Senra was here. Really, any of those three could be it, but the last one was oddly poignant. Fortunately for his attention span, and unfortunately for his understanding of the situation, Eric happened to appear at the back of the group just in time to see the mayor bop Faruja on the head. He winced even as a chortle escaped him.<br /><br />"Not entirely fair of thee to be bopping humble Churchmice on the head, now is it?" he called out from the back, waving at Faruja good-naturedly. He was pretty sure being called a mouse would grate on the fellow Burmecian's nerves... which was the entire point.<br /><br />"Eric Bartholomew, at your service," he introduced himself (incompletely) with a flourished bow and a grin to anyone who didn't happen to already be acquainted with himself... and simultaneously unintentionally volunteered to help with the quest at hand.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Synestria, is generally left unmolested, appearing human as she is. When they're away, Faruja responds to her. "Agreed. Mayhaps, M'Lady Syn, you shall be the key to such!" The rat doesn't necessarily explain /why/ that might be. <br /><br /> Saved by the barmaiden! Faruja casts a thankful glance to Tifa as she catches the cane, the Burmecian quick to get on with things. Skoll pats him on the back, and Faruja shakes his head. "Next it shall be the paddle or somesuch." Huff! He's not a badly behaving child! <br /><br /> "North, 'tis M'Lady Lockhart. Should be easy enough travel." Indeed, the Chocobo Plains are as flat as most plains tend to be! <br /><br /> "Heard that ya stoney lass!" Yells out the old man at Zia. It seems his ears are one thing that /isn't/ going. <br /><br /> Faruja grits his teeth as Alma speaks. Deep breath! And out. "A lesson I shall keep in mind Lady Hyral." Grump grump! <br /><br /> Ear-perk. A brow rises. "I AM NOT A MOUSE, SER BARTHOLOMEW!" FAruja's lungs still work. <br /><br /> The Templar may be cheating a bit, astride the wyvern Arista as she flies along lazily above the ground. The creature keeps occasionally looking at the birds (or their riders) hungrily. The pair of knight and mount occasionally argue in draconic, leading to a grumpy looking wyvern. "Simple, Lady Deel, good Captain! Treat the bird as thy friend, and hold on! Light pressure upon their neck to steer!" Comments the rat. <br /><br /> After some traveling, monsters generally leaving such a large group alone, the party comes across a gaping hole in the grand; or at least what may once have been such. A tent covers the entryway to the lamia's home, brown and large. A sign is hammered into the ground, stating; "Private lair! Tresspassers will be bitten and possibly eaten! Salesmen and Ajora's Witnesses /will/ be eaten!" <br /><br /> As the group nears, a figure slithers out from the tent. The human portion of the female looks no more than twenty, with short and messy blonde hair, and large green eyes. She wears a simple striped t-shirt and jacket covering a relatively slim frame that transitions to brown, dusty scales and a ten foot long tail. In her hands, she has a shotgun. <br /><br /> "HEY! You're on our land! You with those yokels near Lindblum?" Yells out the snakess. While she doesn't level her weapon, she looks quite peeved, and perhaps a bit scared.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke glowered at the townsfolk but said nothing. He wasn't needed yet, they were just cowardly superstitious and upset. Grumble Grumble "Hey." He tried finding a comfortable position on his bird. "Look birdy I'm not much of a rider so mind going easy on the rolling lumpy gait?"<br /><br />WARK! HOP! Zeke looked sick shut up and didn't open his mouth til he saw the 'trespassers will be bitten' sign and shook his head. "Can't say that's an entirely effective deterrant. i've known half a dozen or so people stupid and or drunk enough to roll around in something godsaweful just to see what the reaction may yet be." And then he lost his lunch.<br /><br />Mighty man of the sea lain low by a common bird. He'll never hear the end of this.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart smiles as some of the others ask for ways to control the birds "That's because you're thinking of them as objects. They are intelligent creatures, they sense your confusion or insecurity. Try to make friends with them, understand them instead, they communicate int heir own way. If you give it your trust they won't let you down either." She leans against the neck of her chcoobo, petting under its beak. Premium Heart 'kweh~' happily as a reply, as if it understood what was being said. It doesn't really, but it understands its about her at least.<br /><br />She nods to Faruja, pulling up on the reins and following over the fields... until they come up with the Lamiass... Well at least they seem intelligent enough to talk, so dialog is possible... "I'm impressed that they 'slither' their 's' sound even when writing." She shrugs at that, but she slides off her chocobo, if only to show good intentions that she's not going to charge in atop of it at least.<br /><br />Plus she fights better on foot if need is.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke glowered at the townsfolk but said nothing. He wasn't needed yet, they were just cowardly superstitious and upset. Grumble Grumble "Hey." He tried finding a comfortable position on his bird. "Look birdy I'm not much of a rider so mind going easy on the rolling lumpy gait?"<br /><br />WARK! HOP! Zeke looked sick shut up and didn't open his mouth til he saw the 'trespassers will be bitten' sign and shook his head. "Can't say that's an entirely effective deterrant. i've known half a dozen or so people stupid and or drunk enough to roll around in something godsaweful just to see what the reaction may yet be." And then he lost his lunch.<br /><br />Mighty man of the sea lain low by a common bird. He'll never hear the end of this.<br /><br />After regaining at least a little composure he looked over at Tifa. "Pardon lass but horses i know. Fish and whale aplenty I know." He patted the chocobo's neck. "This beast be a mystery to me. And it seems to like making me suffer for it."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Red chocobo. Why did it have to be a red chocobo!? Skoll looks back at Tifa's Chocobo with a bit of a nervous gaze, before glancing towards Zia. She was right of course. The man was a crazy old bat. But if it hadn't been for crazy old bats - her crystal would still be broken right now. So you have to give the elderly some respect. Being near Lindblum, there's plenty of demihumans around, so it's very possible that the Gargoyle's attempts might just be for naught. Still, it matters little. They'll be leaving soon after all. "Aye. You heard the lady." Skoll agrees with Alma, while he continues to regard Faruja. Poor mouse. Then suddenly Faruja goes yelling at Bartholomew. Oh hey, another Burmecian!<br /><br />"But you're fine with us calling you Mouse." Skoll comments to the Nezumi with bemusement.<br /><br />Cut to Skoll helping Zia onto a proper /yellow/ Chocobo. Nice and safe. They ride off into the distance, and soon come upon the Snakessssssssss. Skoll notices immediately that they aren't really all that... scary looking. Other than the one with a shotgun. "Seriously? A Lamia with a shotgun? What'll be next?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>It isn't the first time lately that Zia has been stared at, and the gargoyle nervously glances back, then tucks her cloak closer around herself. Among those who know her, she's hardly shy about her appearance, but with the village so close by, the last thing she needs is someone drawing more attention to it. Maybe the mouse could pass for something harmless, but a creature with great bat wings and talons is going to have a bit of a harder time explaining that they aren't the source of the problem, somehow. <br /><br />Her gaze meets the deadpan expression of the cat. "Well, ye are a wee bit unusual, Sir cat." So long as he doesn't have a knife out, the gargoyle doesn't seem quite as nervous around the plushie. Most of these others she's seen before, so the gargoyle doesn't bother with introductions. The only one who does is Eric, to whom she inclines her head. "Good day te ye." She winces as the old man calls behind her. Oops. <br /><br />As the others deal with their various troubles (or not) with their chocobos, Zia actually offers a hand out to the resident werewolf, pulling herself in behind him for the ride. Normally, she'd fly the distance, but... not right in front of the village. Luckily, it's a big bird.<br /><br />When they arrive, she's quick to slide down, if only because riding doesn't come naturally to her. "Ah dinane think Ah'll ever get usedte burden beasts." The gargoyle rubs at her tail, and then finally draws back her hood, unclasping the cloak so she can toss the thing up across Skoll's saddle and not worry about it. Most of the people knew what she was, anyways. "Shakes wi' shotguns sounds like the sequel to Snakes on a Plane." She notes, absently.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Hopping up on a chocobo herself, Synestria sits side saddle the whole way to the cave. <br /> <br /> Once there, she slid off the saddle and smirks at the sign once they get to the cave. "Well that's a wonderful welcome, isn't it?" She then walks her way forwards towards the Lamia and tilts her head. "Yes we're on your land, but we've come here with a few concerns, it seems." She then holds up her hand. "If you could lower the shotgun, please?" She then looks to Faruja. "Be civil, Faruja....please?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma offers Shiki something of a shy wave and a smile. She barely knew who Shiki was other than the person fixing up a custom Cactuar costume with the Shard Seeker's <br /> <br /> To Faruja she just smiles quite sweetly. She'd forgiven, but she hadn't forgotten, and seeing a little bit of cosmic Karma coming his way was always a little comforting. <br /> <br /> Alma rides on a yellow Chocobo, a rental that she'd literally named Trouble. She'd only fallen off.. twice. "You are causing me so much grief, bird." She mutters to it as she follows along, lagging behind the group only a little bit. It only replied in a sing-song waarkkwarkwarrkkk. Tifa's lesson didn't even need to be said. She was taking it to heart that they were indeed intelligent creatures. She just had a feeling that it was trolling her. <br /> <br /> Alma asks to Skoll in genuine confusion when Faruja yells at Eric, "So wait, he doesn't want us calling him Mouse? Is that offensive to his people? What should we call him? He's not a rat is he?" Also because she was fixated on Skoll's ears which she finds pretty adorable. <br /> <br /> When they arrive at the Lamia's lair, she looks at the sign, commenting, "Well that's more honest than Feige Abramson's /Not a Secret Lair/ sign from trustworthysigns.com." When the Lamia comes out, she just observes it with curiosity, uncertain what exactly to say that would make this situation better.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Let's bounce before he busts a blood vessel," Shiki suggests, cringing a little bit. She sucks it up and puts on her best smile- after all, she's surrounded by so many close friends, she can't help but do so when the pressure's off. She's got to make sure she doesn't look glum, or that's a lot of people she'll be making concerned! <br /><br /> Fortunately, she's experienced with Chobobos and riding thereof, or at least more experienced than some people around here. So she doesn't have much of a problem when they go riding. It's pretty relaxing, and she just sits back and lets her worries subside.<br /><br /> You could almost hum Ukelele de ChocoSHOTGUN?! Where did a lamia get a shotgun from?<br /><br /> Shiki gulps as they end up facing down a lamia almost immediately, and Mr. Mew hides again. He's made of fluff, shotguns are bad for him. <br /><br />Still, Shiki can recognise the fear in the lady snake's expression. "Easy," she says, also dismounting. "We're just looking for some lost people."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel is still clinging to her chocobo and looking most uncomfortable from the looks of her but she's going to make due, she's really going to make due with it. The comment of calling Faruja a mouse manage to get a bit of a laugh out of the basic. She knows it wasn't meant in any sense of unkindness, still how flustered Faurja got over it? Made it pretty priceless. <br /><br /> "All right, I'll try...?" <br /><br /> She sounds uncertain as she follows Faruja's suggestion about how to handle the bird hopefully it will work and she won't end up having a meteor dropped on her head for her trouble. No she has no idea which breeds can or can nod do that. She gives the Lamia's a surprised look, Lamia's with a shotgun? Okay that was new. <br /><br /> "Greetings!" <br /><br /> Yes keep it cool Deelel, nothing bad could happen right? Well if she stays civil something strange has to be going on here right? Then again perhaps Nagetta has given her a different outlook on the Lamia race than many would have.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric grinned in satisfaction when Faru shouted at him - score!<br /><br />"Generally Burmecians don't like being compared to rodents," Eric answered Alma's question, despite the query not being aimed at himself. "Rats and nezumi aren't even that closely related as species, and being called a rat is rather a bit of an insult even amongst our own kind."<br /><br />The beginning of that last statement would be perplexing to anyone who knew Japanese, since nezumi actually translates literally as 'rat', but Eric didn't even know Japan existed. Oh, hey, Faru, Eric's making mild implications about evolution. Faru, go defend your religion!<br /><br />Eric followed along on his rental Chocobo - he would have loved to own one himself but rather didn't like the idea of being too busy to visit it every day - and was rather good-natured right up until the Lamia with the shotgun. To this, he squeaked and shrunk to the back of the group, rather a bit intimidated since he'd dismounted his chocobo by this time. He still had hold of the reigns and was petting the chocobo in a soothing manner, but it seemed to do more for his own nerves than the chocobo's since the yellow bird gazed on in a stalwart manner. Lamia apparently did not frighten it.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Nagetta's on tail herself, most Chocobos run away when they see the lamia. Of course this means she's a bit behind everyone else. At least until they're stopped with the lamia with the shotgun. There are other talking lamias besides her and Syn? She looks a bit surprised to hear that. Which why she's been remaining so quiet. "Hello...we're not going to hurt you. Could you please put the weapon down?" The snake girl moves to the front of the group, hoping her presence might calm things a bit.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja goes red in the ears, those two appendages folding back at Skoll's comment. "...'Tis a term of endearment." Mutters the rat, a bit squeakily and sheepishly. Then there's Alma. "...Nezumi or Burmecian, if 'tis pleasing, M'Lady Hyral." It seems no one has clued him in to the idea of what 'nezumi' means in japanese. The poor rat just sounds defeated at this point. <br /><br /> "Well said, Eric!" Faruja sounds more than a touch happy at the man picking up the explainations. <br /><br /> The lamia looks over the group, frowning as some members address her and others make gestures of being 'not threats'. Out of all of them, Shiki and especially Nagetta seems to get the woman's attention. "...That true?" Faruja gives a nod, and a flick of the tail to the pair of women. A thumbs-up, in nezumi! <br /><br /> "Yes, M'Lady. It seems as though the villagers blame thyselves for their missing...." starts the rat. Hisss! The lamia shakes her head. <br /><br /> "Wasn't us! I swear! Yeah, we've gone to the village a time or two, but it wasn't like that! Always during the day, too! Just a bunch of idiots blaming the first non-human thing they can spy!" <br /><br /> Faruja raises his hands plaintively. "We believe thee, M'Lady, truly!" <br /><br /> Before the rat can say anything else, the lamia sighs. "...Really? Well. I guess someone who's running around with one of us isn't about to lay the blame on us. Sorry. Just tell those idiots we're missing people two. My two daughters are missing, and so is Jane! Two days we saw some beady little yellow eyes in the darkness. Tried to get everybody inside, but...couldn't." Finally, she puts away the gun. "Come on in." She calls out. Faruja dismounts his own mount, and heads off behind! Should the rest of the group enter, they'll find themselves led down to a twisting set of tunnels, large enough for three to walk abreast. Down one forked passage, two lamia women stand guard, the way further blocked off by piled up boxes, and other assorted junk. The group halts there, the lamia woman nodding. "That's where they came from, those.../THINGS/! And ya know, the others were talking about hearing screams. Not lamia ones. Human ones." <br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke slid off his chocobo and patted it's side. "Good bird. nice bird. Sorry I'm out of practice riding." He huffed and grumbled. Then got headbutted by ye olde bird. "I take that you like me then aye? Well be a good bird an when we get back I'll see about getting you something crunchy deal?"<br /><br />Kewh.<br /><br />And with that said Zeke slowly pulled his coat off, anyone in party or in the lamia community would see a few pistols rattling around, hear many other things. He kept slow as he draped it over the chocobo. "Jus' t'show I mean no 'arm.," He explained before approaching. "Ah only came along on request fer some extra eyes an I dunna kneh tha situation on account of bein land-sick on yonder bird but it seems people be missin. Noone here is assumin ye be th'cause or that yer intent be anythin other than self defense but we seek information. If ye wish t'help tha'd be right grand an we can all part ways on good terms. No harm done and maybe a little good in th'long run."<br /><br />What? Zeke was a merchant, this was a possible customer market. Plus they could probably use a few friendly helpful faces about now. "Truely we mean no harm jus' a few questions an we be out o yer scales." This is Zeke's sincere Face.<br /><br />This is also Zeke's Grateful Face when Nagetta slithered to the front of the crowd. He didn't say anything to her but he stood beside the lady snake and waited, hoping.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Shiki makes a disgruntled sigh. "I'm sorry. It's tough when people judge you by appearences." She sounds like she's talking from experience. She glances at Eric and Faruja, and then at Alma- and when she spots Nagetta, waves her over. "Long time no see!"<br /><br /> Unfortunately, she knows all too well what the description is when it's given- she's gotten very used to recognising yellow eyes in the darkness, and it tends to mean only one thing. Mr. Mew takes point with a flashlight when they head inside, although it's really only one of those tiny ones you use to read by. Still, if someone laughs, then that's a victory in his book.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Synestria smiles to the Lamia. "Two of you." She says before looking back to Nagetta and a friendly wave can be seen until she follows the Lamia down the tunnels. "Man this would be a tight fit if I was normal." Of course, she stayed with Nagetta as well. She not only considered Nagetta a friend, but an unofficial member of her clan, whether she realized it or not. However, at the end of the tunnel, she cracks her neck. "Issssss there another way around, or issssss thisssss the only way through. <br /> <br /> Not, that's not a lisp she's sporting suddenly.....<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The white gargoyle's ears tip down a little at the prospect that she might have been speaking ill of her dear mouse friend for such a long time. "Ye have m'sincerest apologies. Ah didnae know it was offensive." Clearly, she's taken aback by it. "Ah'll try te be more careful in the future." She probably feels that much worse about it, since her lack of using names means that Zia has called Faruja a mouse... a lot. Oops.<br /><br />Staying a step back, Zia ends up standing not far from Alma, meaning that the white mage can probably now see the gargoyle form that was hidden before. She allows Faruja to do the talking, feeling a bit chagrined about having made certain social mistakes, her tail idlely twitching behind her. <br /><br />It isn't until the Lamia begin to lead them that she speaks up again, "Yellow eyes." She notes, "Tha sounds a wee bit familiar, aye?" Looking to the others, she hesitates. Afterall, almost everyone here has run into the Heartless from time to time. Clearly, that's her first guess as to the identity of the kidnappers. "Then again, Ah dinnae know if we'd even hear screams if it were Heartless."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart is glad that they don't have to fight right out at least. "I'm sorry for the disturbance then. If we find your missing kindred we'll be sure to send them back your way." As for the villagers... well, humans are bad untrusting creatures, as sad as that makes her. Living with other races like Zia, Faruja and even duckpeople, she doesn't share that feeling anymore at least.<br /><br />She slides back on top of Premium Heart "So black creatures with yellow eyes huh... sounds like heartless... but they usually don't capture, or so I thought." She makes sure she's not within hearing range too "I thought they pretty much just tore anyone's heart away, not put them in cages or something..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Aye. Sounds like heartless." Skoll answers Zia, frowning deeply. He's letting the others do the talking for this whole mess. He does take his time to get off of his Chocobo upon arrival, and then offers a hand up towards Zia. Heh, calling Burmecians a mouse is an 'endearment'. He'll have to keep that in mind too. "Take my hand." Skoll whispers to Zia, in an attempt to help her down and then follow after the Lamia.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>She listens to explanations from both Eric and Faruja. Before finally deciding in a voice filled with consternation.. "I'll just.. go with Burmecian. Less ambiguous." <br /> <br /> There is a moment when the Lamia mentions beady yellow eyes that Alma looks like she's been shot. Her expression wide with... fear? Before she closes her eyes, beginning to breathe quite rapidly. It takes some time for her to calm herself down, far more than by all rights, it ought to have, before finally stating to Zia, "M..more familiar than y-you know." However her fear was not of Heartless... after all. They weren't the apex predator with yellow eyes. Not anymore if mad SCIENCE had anything to say about it. <br /> <br /> However she then falls into a sullen silence, as if she were trying to get over a shock that was seemed appalling traumatic to her.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel is more focused on the Lamia issue than further comment on Faruja's nickname. She does give Shiki a look and a faintly smile before turning her attention back to the Lamia for a moment. Also speaking of Lamias she does notice Nagetta and hopes just by her presence that they might be able to talk this out. Discrimination is a problem but it is also known some Lamias did eat people. On the other hand nothing seems to give away that. <br /><br /> "Wait more people have gone missing?" <br /><br /> Was something targeting both the Lamias and the human settlement? It seemed to be very likely. She hops of her bid and gives it some greens, that seems to placate the bird which is still amused at this. <br /><br /> "I do not like the sounds of this, Zeke? you got any ideas on this?" <br /><br /> At the mention of yellow eyes she has to nod in agreement to Zia. <br /><br /> "Sounds like what I think it is, Zia." <br /><br /> Alma meanwhile gets a bit of a look too as she's also clicked, Deelel doesn't quite go for her disc yet? But the weapon has been unlocked should it be needed. <br /><br /> "Shiki keep with me also I have some pictures to show you later..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Yes, it sounds like the heartless." Nagetta nods in agreement with the others. "They kidnapped a few other of the others...we have to find them!" The normally soft-spoken girl is louder than usual. There's no telling what they might do. It figures, she finally meets some more lamia and there's already trouble. Hopefully they weren't too late. "Oh yes, hello Shiki. I have something I need to ask you about later." The current matter was a bit more important.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Synestria chuckles a bit as she sees Nagetta get right to the heart of the matter, but she doesn't really mind. "At leasssst we're not hunting Lamia here." She says as her form shifts from the slight human she was before, into a lamia that's a bit larger than Nagetta, and perhaps the other Lamia that are there. "All right. Much better...."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> With so many polite efforts on the party of mixed non-humans and humans, the snake lady seems to relax a bit. Paranoia is replaced by open worry over the fate of her kin. Looking from face to face, she finally smiles lightly at Shiki. <br /><br /> "Heh, yeah...you're not so bad though. Uh. Sorry." That seems to be directed to the humans of the group. The woman peers at both Nagetta, and then Synestria. "Good to know we're not alone, though. Worried we were the only lamia around...but yeah, only way in, only way out. We stored all of our furniture there. Big room. Well, we did until all of /this/ started. Though, ya know...one of the kids did say they heard something collapse back there. Little bit before the screams started. Never got a chance to investigate though." <br /><br /> Faruja doesn't seem too upset, merely shaking his head. "Worry naught, my friend." Smile! Alma gets a strange look, almost worried as he notes so much fear. <br /><br /> The party's in agreement, in general. "Quite. Heartless...most curious however..." Faruja echoes, before nodding to the guards. <br /><br /> "Well, at the least, we know where we must go. Sers, Dames? Shall we?" The two guards look to the lamia woman. "Let 'em through." Two snakey women begin to haul stuff out of the way. Faruja draws his spear, lighting up like some sort of candle. Though the way in has been lit by torches, the inner cavern is dark. <br /><br /> "Shall we?" Into the caverns we go!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zeke]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zeke hmmed as he followed the crowd. "Mayhap their tactics be changin' let us do their work for 'em an keep one from joining with another t'keep from gettin shredded." Thoughtful voice as he sought Deelel out. He felt naked with so few weapons, just a pistol and his sword, but a show of trust never hurt... except when it did. "I be thinkin these heartless be smarter an we've believed. Then 'gain it takes a mind t'figure on stratagy like this an all t heartless 've seen be little better than mindless maws." Let that sink in and stew for awhile as they walked.<br /><br />"Mayhap a good idea t'send one of us back t'give th'villagers an update on th'situation t'head off any potential rabblerousers hopin t'start a fight."<br /><br />The more he thought of that the less he liked it. Look around. He frowned and grumbled. "I be goin back t'give word about what's what an fetch m'crew t'aid in preperations. If this be a battle they be wantin' best have a place of safty ready." With that he bowed slightly before making his exit. This meant going back via chocobo which didn't do his stomach any favors, but as he put his coat back on and convinced the great yellow bird to let him back on he hmphed. "Personal discomfort be damned to th'pits. There be business afoot."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Shiki just gives a goofy laugh, 'cuz she can't think of any other way to respond.<br /> Shiki... gives Deelel a glance, as if to say 'just a moment'.<br /><br /> She walks behind Alma and gently wraps her arms around her from behind as they walk, because she really looks like she could use a hug right now. Shiki's pretty good at this empathy thing lately. It is a hug that asks for no explanation and gives none of its own.<br /><br /> "Heartless are sly little things, even if they don't look like it. Those ones that can press flat into the shadows are really good at getting behind someone." Like the others, she's privately worried that they won't find anyone because the Heartless will have basically eaten them, but like the others she's hardly going to say this. If only there was a way to get those people back...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Her voice is literally shaking with fear "Or E-Empties..." It wasn't rational fear. It wasn't the sort she could puzzle through and wonder why she was more afraid of them by far than Heartless that she'd seen literally cause the end of her world. It was the sort that clung to the deepest recesses of the subconscious even if the memories of the nightmare had long since faded. <br /> <br /> And hers had been a long nightmare. <br /> <br /> After a time, she swallows, and follows them into the caverns. Shiki gives her a hug, and she manages a faint smile, but it hardly puts her at ease. Hollow yellow eyes belonging to green-haired girls were all she saw in the back of her mind.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart hops off of the chocobo once the group reaches the cavern. She notes Alma's fear and trembling voice, and offers her shoulder a reassuring squeeze with her gloved hand "Don't worry, we're all together, and we're stronger as a group than we could ever be alone, right?" She smiles, and moves on ahead toward the entrance, taking up the front line as she always does. She rather be hurt first than letting others stand in the line of fire when it comes to it.<br /><br />She crosses her arms, looking at the opening "I never thought that heartless would really 'hide' anywhere either. It sounds like heartless, but the parts don't seem to fit perfectly... I wonder what's going on.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> ~~LAST TIME~~ <br /><br /> Our noble heroes followed the trail of evidence to the lamia's den. Missing men, missing snakes, and beady-yellow-eyed devils in the darkness followed, with a curious mystery hanging in the air! The green-haired, shotgun toting lamia waved off the would-be heroes as they left to find the source of it all. <br /><br /> ~~NOW~~ The group sets off into the sealed off portion of the den, holy light and other more mundane means peering into the unlit darkness. The cavern is in good shape still, given how recently it was abandoned, old torches still hanging in sconces nailed into the compacted soil. At first, everything is eerily silent. Five minutes pass, before a fork in the tunnels is reached. The leftmost cavern seems to head downwards, while the rightmost seems to remain mostly level. <br /><br /> Faruja frowns lightly, stopping. "...The Lady made no mention of another passageway."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Shiki's a fast-talkin' streetwise girl on the scene!<br /> Mr. Mew's filled with polyester and he has a torch!<br /><br />Together they are: DIG DUG! Wait, no, this whole idea is awful, can it. Do something else, anything else.<br /><br /> Shiki is still walking along that tunnel! It feels like we've been walking for hours. Days, even! Maybe even a whole week. But we gotta do it for the kids! The snake kids! And the other snake people. And the other people. And kids. There's no half measures.<br /><br /> "OK, first thing we do is /don't/ split up, horror movie 101."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Slithering down the tunnel herself, and probably taking up most of the tunnel herself, Synestria looks back towards the rest of the group, especially Faruja, and chuckles. "Perhapsssss she forgot. Anywayssssss, letssss ssssee if we can get their ssssscent." She says immedinately sticking her tongue out. <br /> <br /> Cuz snakes have a more sensitive tongue to smell than their noses do. Strange, no?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart nods to Shiki's statement "Strength in numbers... especially considering these." She left her chocobo behind as they got to the tunnels, so she strolls toward what catches her attention. She has a good visual acuity it seems, as she moves toward the side of the tunnel, tracing her fingers along the walls.<br /><br />"These aren't natural. There's claw marks, as if it was dug straight out of the rock and dirt. I'm not sure that's a good thing for us... but it looks likely whatever waits us down there is what took away the lamias and humans alike..." She kneels to look at the ground around the entrance as well, tracing fingers over the marks, just trying to estimate their size compared to her hand.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma flashes back to her Dungeoneering 101. The class on splitting the party specifically. <br /> <br /> To sum up the class in a single word. 'Don't.' <br /> <br /> The class clown made the addendum: ...unless you want make out time. <br /> <br /> This causes her face to screw up a little bit with suppressed laughter, bringing her out of her foul mood. "Going to have to agree on the not splitting up thing."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Underground tunnels have always felt a bit strange to Zia. There isn't enough room to move her wings, or to be able to walk without risk of bumping into someone. It might be that, or the fact that every time she's been in some underground place, it seems to lead to trouble. <br /><br />Her eyes naturally adjust to the dark, though the colors wash out a bit as she walks along, taking care not to step on anyone's toes or snake-bits with her oversized feet. It isn't until Tifa points out the claw marks that she peeks over at them. "Ah dinnae know much other than Gargoyles 'n monsters tha can make clawmarks in stone." <br /><br />As the others chime in their opinions on not splitting up, she nods along with it, "We sould probably spread out a wee bit, though. If there's a rock-slide down here, we dinnae want all of us endin up caught in it." The thought of being trapped down here sparks a hint of claustrophobia. <br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel has been keeping with the group the talk of there being heartless in all likelihood behind the toruble sof both the Lamias and the humans? It makes a disturbing sort of sense to her. She's already got her disc out and armed. The powered edge also adding a bit of light on top of the light that Deelel herself normally generates. <br /><br /> She looks over at Shiki for a moment and seems amused <br /><br /> "Stick together is generally the best idea, Shiki." <br /><br /> Synestria seems to have an idea and some abilities she lacks such as powerful sense of smell. The nature of the tunnels is notably not natural something dug them with some sort of intent. As everyone else Tifa to Alma chime in that splitting up is a bad idea. <br /><br /> "Then we stick it out together and your right Tifa it is the most logical source of both settlements troubles."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"I do." Skoll answers Zia, looking at his fingers for a moment, before glancing back at the Gargoyle. He's remained close to her this entire time. And it seems like everyone is getting rather dire about this whole situation. The wolf continues to follow along and then finally...<br /><br />Yoink.<br /><br />Skoll suddenly grabs Zia's tail and lifts it slightly, and wags his tail at whomever is behind him. "If it gets too dark, grab the nearest tail or whatever, so that we don't lose anyone. That's the best way to stick together." He declares as if this was the most obvious thing ever. This might end up with Faruja's tail being held by a nobleman... who knows.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The lack of light isn't an issue for Nagetta. In fact she sees better in the dark. She feels almost at home here. "Yes, we should stick together." The other lamias in here might not be as as friendly as the ones they've met so far. There's also likely heartless down here as well.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>LAST TIME ON PLANET ERIC<br /><br />"Madam, so long as I am not mistaken in his nature due to our short acquaintance, I do believe Ser Senra would have politely informed you of any discomfort to himself by now," Eric said to Zia, by way of assuring her the nickname was likely nothing. "Like many things spoken of in general terms, there are situational exceptions - I've heard some Burmecian mothers refer to their children as 'little mouselings' with nothing short of an overabundance of affection, and I've seen a Burmecian in Lindblum who was commonly called 'old rat' rather amicably at the bars he frequented."<br /><br />Eric, way back when, had wanted to set the offending bar patrons on fire, but upon realizing they were clearly all old friends had settled for steaming at his table. He'd gradually grown accustomed to it over the years, and in fact was known for making self-deprecating humor about his own people (much to their chagrin).<br /><br />As everyone went down into the tunnels, Eric hung back momentarily, gaze flicking between the descending party and the group of chocobos they would be leaving unattended with the lamia. Not that he /expected/ them to eat the chocobos, but well .. Okay, he totally expected to come back to find a chocobo barbeque - a thought that caused him more than a small amount of distress.<br /><br />The chocobo he'd brought headbutted him practically facefirst into the ground, giving a loud and commanding 'WARK!' as he choco-punted Eric after the questing party. Rubbing his possibly bruised posterior, Eric called back, "/Fine!/ But if I come back to find naught but your bones left I'll be paying you a piece of my mind in the hereafter whatever that happens to be!"<br /><br />Yeah, Eric wasn't religious - religion always gave him mental hives. And he bowed and muttered a short apology to the lamia present before darting off after the rest of the party. Trust the nobleman to be a stupid racist. And here he'd thought he'd surpassed his upbringing<br /><br />PRESENTLY<br /><br />Eric looked nervously down the two tunnels before them, silently agreeing that it would take a stupidly strong creature to make claw-marks in solid stone. Claws that could shred a poor Black Mage like so much tissue paper.<br /><br />He was brought out of his fear by Skoll's suggestion of tail-grabbing, to which Eric flushed bright red from eartip to snout, grabbed his own tail and squeaked, "My tail is /not/ for grasping! And unhand the Lady's tail this instant - /have you no shame?!!!/"<br /><br />Eric was finding this all most uncouth and was getting quite a bit flustered over this.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> One of Faruja's ear perks towards the tunnel as the others speak, the ratling too moving to feel a claw mark. As others approach, a very faint hissing sound can be heard off in the distance. "Mmm...I hear something. 'Tis...nay, it could not be. 'Tis like the airships of home!" The hissing may remind others of teapots, or perhaps, steam engines off in the distance. <br /><br /> Faruja nods to each individual. "Agreed, Shiki, Lady Hyral." Glancing to Zia, his tail flicks. <br /><br /> "More than enough room, certainly. The tunnel seems a touch more narrow. Not too far ahead, not too close Sers and dames." <br /><br /> Faruja peers at Skoll for a moment. "...'Tis...a sound plan." /Sigh/. The rat so happens to be in front of Eric. "Just do not pull /too/ hard!" <br /><br /> A sensitive lamia tongue would pick up the scent of snake-people, oil, and something best described as 'fuzzy'. It may make one want to hack up a hairball. <br /><br /> Faruja takes a deep breath. "Come now, Ser Eric, needs are as they are! Think naught of it. No doubt out lighting devices and magic shall make such an event utterly unneeded." The Burmecian waggles his tail, before starting off. "Behind me, Ser Eric. I shall protect thee." <br /><br /> ======= TEN MINUTES OF HEADING DOWNWARDS LATER ======= <br /><br /> After some time, the tunnel levels out. Faruja coughs, the sound of that hissing in the distance echoing. Roughly the length of two Syn's fully stretched out ahead, the tunnel crudely turns. Following the tunnel, seeing may just become problematic as Faruja's light gutters out. Dense fog fills the area. <br /><br /> "..Of all the Faram-damned places! 'Tis Mist! Pray thee careful with thy magicks, and with thy emotions." Pause. "...Start grabbing tails and sleeves everyone." Up ahead, in the fog, tiny yellow dots can occasionally be seen amidst the thick Mist. The hissing sound grows louder.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Use my tail, everyone. Put your hand on my tail and leave it there, and I'll try and go ssssslowly." Synestria says before looking to Nagetta. "Stick with me, my friend, and be ready. I don't truly like mist." She hisses out as well, taking a deep breath before puffing out a bit of fire from her mouth. "Well that didn't work. Can't ssssem to burn it away."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart doesn't have a tail to grab... and even less sleeve, but the leather flap of her shorts works though. If anyone reaches for her that's probably what they would grab. At least 'down there' its the most grabbable part.<br /><br />She reaches over to grab the nearest person as well "I've been in mist before, unless you're exposed it to for a long time, as in days, it shouldn't affect us too bad... let's just no stay around here for long... and hope the ones kidnapped haven't been here for too long..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel says "My own information is lacking as well, there's far too many breeds of hostile predators in the world of ruin." <br /><br /> It's as wonder anyone survives at all honestly when she thinks about it. Still it's a testament to how hardy the locals really are, far as the program sees it. However Skoll may have a better idea thankfully. <br /><br /> "Right, I can provide a bit of light but not enough I'm afraid." <br /><br /> Enough light for herself and perhaps those near here. <br /><br /> "It often depends on the context and the delivery I'm finding, it's very not a binary sort of thing." <br /><br /> Users, always full of surprises really she's learns something new about them everyday. <br /><br /> "Why Eric you seem positively flustered humm? Or would you just prefer one of the fine ladies here be the one to grasp yours." <br /><br /> She looks back to Faruja she almost says something but she holds off now isn't the time for such teasing, this however is only a delay in what she has planned for Faruja. As the trip goes on and they encounter the mist she grimaces. <br /><br /> "Lovely." <br /><br /> This could be a problem for Deelel given she really has no grab able sleeves given the form fitting nature of her clothes and she's got no tail, sense of say Zia, Eric or Faruja.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma Hyral just stares at Skoll as he grabs Zia's tail and lifts it. She might have some anime style sweatdrops and a stark blush on her face as she looks away politely. This blush turns into anime style blue wavy lines once he explains, "Uh..yeahhh, I think I'd prefer we just um. Link hands, or maybe a hand on a shoulder... Something less..." She closes her eyes as she gropes around for a word, coming up on empty. "...less /that/?" <br /> <br /> She might have been a little more critical but he does in fact look like a dog/wolf so that's easily attributed to that. She then made a mental note that if someone was to grab her 'tail' that she would definitely blast them. Anyhow she starts following Faruja, and is not tempted to grab the tail. She is definitely not tempted to grab it despite it waving around in a hypnotic manner, calling to her, beckoning to her... that it was cute was definitely not in her mind at all. Definitely... not. <br /> <br /> In the end she resists the temptation to grab the adorable Burmecian tail. There were a few close calls. <br /> <br /> Until the Mist rolls in, and hastily she gropes around for it, eventually settling on a hand on his side instead. ...more anime wavy blue lines as she continues to walk. "Mist. It makes me wonder where it all comes from..." She squints down the tunnels, unable to see much, "...you'd think there'd be large deposits of Magicite nearby."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Please be careful with my tail..." Pulling on it too hard could send Nagetta to the ground. She stays close to Synestria feeling a bit strange. She's already a monster technically so there's no telling what it might do to her. Sure there's lamias here, but not the ones from her world.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The explination offered up by Bartholomew certainly does help in some ways to settle some of her uncertainty, and the white gargoyle offers him an understanding nod. "Ah dinnae wante cause any undue distress." She murmurs softly, keeping her voice down, because in the underground, all the sounds seem to carry. "M'kind just dinnae refer te others by name often, so it was meante be a kind way of callin a friend."<br /><br />And then Skoll has to go grabbing her tail. "Wha are ye..." Okay, so he has an actual decent idea there, but she shyly tucks her loincloth down. No peeking, Sir Wolf. Uncertainly, she continues forward, feeling more than a little silly. <br /><br />With Eric being put in step behind Faruja, Zia offers him an understanding sort of look, "Ah could just hold onte yer sleave if that would be more appropriate, good Nezumi?" She asks, offering out a talon. <br /><br />Regardless of if the nobleman takes the offer or not, Zia continues along, up until the point where the lights go out. Her ears twist, listening for the sound nearby. Her eyes glow with slight alarm, but not enough to really see by. <br /><br />"Keep yer wits about ye, lads 'n lassies." She suggests, eyes scanning the darkness, trying to spot any movement in the shadows.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Shiki is liking this almost unanimous agreement with her plan! 'Don't let's die.' It's the platform she built her campaign on. She doesn't have as much experience with tunnels, whether naturally formed ones or otherwise, than Tifa (although to be fair if they did a head to head comparison it's probably just 'mythril mine' for both of them), so she just nods.<br /><br /> The idea of a rockslide though makes her feel a little less confident in herself- she hadn't even considered that idea before Zia floated it. She immediately begins to wonder if she could hold rocks up with a piercing pillar if needs be.<br /><br /> She's brought right back to bemused amusement when the subject of tails is brought up. "This brings a whole new meaning to 'getting some tail'."<br /><br /> Don't ask her to explain the joke.<br /><br /> Another thing Shiki has no experience with is Mist! Hence why, when they come upon it, she's going to say "Cliff notes on why for the first-timers?", as she finds a piece of fabric to breathe through if necessary.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>It would appear that while his idea is in some ways accepted, his tail remains untaken. And he's fine with that - just as long as people are safe. "I hope we won't need it, of course." Skoll answers, even though he continues to hold Zia's tail. He tends to have a sense for these kind of things, and just ends up sticking his tongue out at Zia and continues looking up and forwards like a gentleman. No peeking.<br /><br />Soon enough they come across the mist. But what's more, Faruja's light had gone dark. He's not as familiar with this kind of mist as the others are. So when it is brought up, the wolf lets out an odd sound. "Mist? Like from the world of Mist? Surely not." <br /><br />Seems much like Shiki, he's going to need an explaination.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>To Faruja's words, Eric flashed all shades of irritable pinks and reds, folding his arms over his chest, but following Ser Senra just the same. Hopefully the Holy Dragoon's light wouldn't go out.<br /><br />ONE HOLY OUTAGE LATER<br /><br />"DRAT!" Eric squeaked as Faru's light sputtered out, thankful for the darkness that concealed the way he was flushing crimson. He did, rather hesitantly, grab ahold of Faruja's tail - no sense getting lost somehow. To Zia's offer of grabbing his sleeve, Eric actually still remained mysteriously uncomfortable, which could be told as he said, "That... would be preferable - I'm afraid my tail is a wee bit grabby."<br /><br />That sounded like an excuse, although admittedly it was true his tail practically had a mind of its own when met with a solid object, and he quietly hoped to himself that all Zia touched /was/ his sleeve.<br /><br />"Yes, I pray we're not here too long..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel says "Hand Linking works very well to me." <br /><br /> Nagetta gets some notice from Deelel but she doesn't grab hold of it she's keeping with the group however she may offer a hand to those who'd take it as she puts the disc back on her back, so she does not like cut someone up by accident. <br /><br /> "I plan to Zia." <br /><br /> Shiki's joke however has Deelel laughing, it seems she's learned enough to get Shiki's joke. The nature of the mist does worry her but he's had no real encounters with it before. So she's at a bit of disadvantage compared to some of the others here who are aware of it. From how Eric is talking it could be very bad for their health even her own.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric somewhat belatedly realized something and wrapped his tail around one of his own ankles - it wouldn't do to trip the poor lady if her leg were to brush agai- Aaaand he locked that thought down with a steel-door trap - /definitely/ not a gentlemanly thought.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Huh?" Nagetta doesn't get Shiki's joke and has no clue why Deelel is laughing. It seemed to be an odd time to be doing so. Of course she's worried about the other lamias to have much of a sense of humor right now. She would have to ask Shiki about it later.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "The Mist oft interferes with spellcasting, heightens the emotions of those within it, and attracts monsters most vicious. Some even claim it led to the creation of my own people. Absolute nonsense of course, but it nevertheless causes odd behaviour in creatures. Particularly Viera." Shudder. Faruja remembers /that/ all too well. <br /><br /> He too is glad for the darkness, his face glowing red beneath the fur even as his tail flicks and sways as he concentrates. It's like some kind of Alma-hypnotizing device! The same one with a hand on his side. Could this trip get any more awkward? <br /><br /> The rat proceeds to get plenty of lamia tail, holding onto Syn's. "Lady Syn, if you would, use thy nose...erm, tongue...to get us through this? Lead the way, M'Lady. Keep together everyone!" Pause. "Truly, Shiki, to 'acquire some tail' would be most beneficial for all tail-less sorts!" Clearly someone /doesn't/ get the joke. <br /><br /> Like a bad lightbulb, Faruj'as light flickers on. As Syn slithers on forward, the group would be led through twists, turns, and even a light bit of water underfoot. Yellow eyes always seem to be at the edge of each person's vision, yet nothing appears. After some time, the noise of hissing is joined by the sounds of mechanical chugging. The Mist slowly becomes lighter as the tunnel heads upwards. Yet, so too does it move, looking to be actively spat down the tunnel where the group just came from, settling upon the ankles in heavy streams before rising as any bit of steam tends to do. <br /><br /> The group finally exits. Before them lays a stone cavern, glowing mushrooms lighting up the area. Crates, and wood are scattered about, as well as clothes and curiously little bits of metal ore. The bulk of the cavern is taken up by a large wooden airship, it's propeller smashed and it's side similarly wounded from what may have been a crash landing. Mist spills from the wound in the ship, the sound of a Mist engine steadily chugging within. <br /><br /> Faruja peers at the ship. "...Still running? Amazing. Hmm?" <br /><br /> Atop the deck of the ship is a cage. Within, several people can be seen. Voices both snake-ish and human cry out. "Help! Hey! Get us out of here before they come back!" One of the eldest, a lamia looking to be about twelve shouts out. <br /><br /> That's when yellow eyes peer from the wound in the ship. They crawl out, and emit a horrible sound. <br /><br /> Slitted, beady, yellow feline-like eyes gaze at the group. Four clawed, spindley limbs scrabble about as purple wings flap. Dozens of creatures known as Gimme Cats stare at the group hungrily. <br /><br /> So too is there a hunched figure among them. A robed old woman walks forward slowly, glaring out. "Fah, so /that's/ what all this racket is! Blasted kids, get off my cavern! Just as bad as those snakes, or those bumpkins!" <br /><br /> Faruja glares. "...Just let thy captives go!" Demands the rat. <br /><br /> The old woman reaches down, petting one of the felines. <br /><br /> "No! They're mine! MINE! This cavern is mine, and these little ones are my new children! And you WON'T take my cats away! Pretties! Get rid of mommy's enemies!" <br /><br /> The Gimme Cats rush forward at the behest of the Insane Gimme Cat Lady, swarming at everyone!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>When the gimme cats swarm in to attack, Synestria immediately coils herself up to protect herself and, perhaps others that are nearby. However, her attacks are less than protective. He extends her arms and fingers, casting lightning from her fingers into each of the non-grounded gimme cats.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel makes note of how the mist messes with spell casting and emotions? The former didn't mean much to Deelel, the latter however? Ya that would likely effect her. Since magic already does she figures it is only logical that it would effect her in that regard as well. <br /><br /> "You could put it that way Faruja." <br /><br /> It strange when some user humour goes over a users heard and she gets it, she also just seems amused still at how Eric took her own joke towards him. Her circuit lines give some light, well enough to see where one's going at least but there's something a bit surprising to her as she notices the nature of the cavern with there being a old airship this could explain much of it. <br /><br /> "It does seem to be functional this could explain it. <br /><br /> She hears a voice and she narrows her eyes a bit. <br /><br /> "If you wish to go that way then we have no choice to use force." <br /><br /> Hopefully they can take this old lady alive, then again she may be effected by the Mist now that she thinks about it. <br /><br /> She runs several command while hanging back and letting the others get the cats attention. She'll be moving in shortly, she just needed time to prepare herself.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart isn't sure if she's relieved or not that its heartless, but Gimme Cats. She likes cats, but those... are rather creepy with those big glowing eyes. Ugh. She wonders what's up with this scene though. Normally people hold cats as pets. Now its the pets wanting to keep the humans/lamias? Looks like its all in reverse. "They didn't ask for this! Just let them go!"<br /><br />Looks like talkign won't work here, as the cats swarm all around her. She tries to swipe them out of the way, but that doesn't work very well, there's too many of them. They pile and scratch at her, before she grabs them and tosses them off with a screech as they left their marks on her exposed skin "Stay away!" What she wouldn't give for some sort of catnip trap to lure them off right now. But as the next wave of hopping cats approachs, she lashes out with her legs to knock them away.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Shiki sighs.<br /><br /> Human chains mean that she can't put anything over her mouth, and Mr. Mew's not going to attach himself to her face this time. He's also not going to hold anyone's hand, because he's much smaller than all of you. In fact, it's difficult as all get out to see where he IS in this mist, what with it being so low-hanging and all that. You can't even see the torch any more!<br /><br /> And so, on we go, jokes being hit and miss, mostly miss. <br /><br /> Shiki is... face...faulting... a little? "How did an airship get underground?!"<br /><br /> This doesn't make sense! We definitely went down a lot of tunnels! <br /><br />But more important to Shiki than the airship is the...-<br /><br /> Flashback. Flashback to a mountain, filled with flowers. A mountain with a problem. A scraggly, yellow-eyed, winged, annoying, infuriating problem.<br /><br /> /Gimme Cat/.<br /><br /> "Don't give them any diamonds!" Shiki blurts out, seemingly for no reason. It was a bad time. Also, cat attack.<br /><br /> Several of them go leaping at her and she runs crazy through the mist, pausing only to pull out her mythril rod. If a cat gets near her, BASEBALL BAT TIME.<br /><br /> ...where /did/ Mr. Mew go?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The gargoyle does take hold of Eric's sleeve, but doesn't go further than that. She's properly polite, afterall. For all his protestations, she decides to keep her mouth shut. This is just an adventure, into a dark tunnel, with horrible monsters, and possibly gruesome death. "Maybe we should be a wee bit quieter." She notes to Eric, perhaps trying to get him to not exclaim quite so loudly.<br /><br />She protects herself from the Mist with her scarf, pulling it up over her nose, which leaves her looking like some sort of gargoyle assassin. It's not a bad look, if not a bit strange.<br /><br />As they finally come upon the source of the trouble, Zia ends up pulling her tail free from Skoll's hand, taking a step forward as her wings flare out behind her. The people in cages are enough to tell her that there is danger. And then, it's crazy cat-lady. At least she doesn't have a cat-zooka. "Ye better no' get beaten by cats, wolf-boy." She mutters, and then considers the fact that there's two mice here. Poor Nezumi.<br /><br />Since there's more room in here, the gargoyle takes to the skies instead, or at least takes to the upper level of the room, her claws digging into stone as she hangs upside down like some giant bat. "Ah'll see if Ah can slow them down a wee bit for ye!" She calls out, weaving a spell that causes some water to roil up from the ground and dampen the felines, followed by cold to freeze their paws to the ground. <br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Cats? Nagetta certainly wasn't expecting that. At least the lamia children seemed to be alright for the time. Still they would have to deal with the felines first. She wonders if the woman has spent too much time in the mist gauging her reaction to them. There isn't too much for her to think about that.<br /><br /> At least there was enough room for her to jump around in here. The dragoon coils up before springing into the air, bouncing from cat to cat.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The Alma hypnotizing device continues to work her magic. At one point she gets swirly eyes and starts to reach it. <br /> <br /> Fortunately lights, and the appearance of the Mist ship snap her out of it just in time. The appearance of people in /cages/ do that more than most. Alma's expression becomes rather flat at that moment, as she just stares at the Insane Old Woman. "Overpossessive much?" <br /> <br /> A yellow corona springs over her at that point illuminating part of the area around her. The Gimme Cats rush forward, swarming her. She reflexively tries to dive out of the way, as a burst of streaking orbs of light which look much like stars are fired back at them. They miss, and she ends up with a very chagrined look. Oh well, it was mostly her pride that was wounded. <br /> <br /> She then weaves a few enchantments upon herself to start working at those wounds, and the nearby figure of the Gargoyle who appears to be hanging from the ceiling(Which she found incredibly awesome by the way), as she begins to rise off the ground, taking some refuge near the cavern roof as well.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The wolf continues to hang onto that tail, trusting in that they'll be led correctly. It's when they come out into the 'opening' that the wolf finally lets go. There's light after all. He is quick to move in front of Zia and gets ready for battle, getting into a pugalist's stance. "Heartless!?" He calls out. But no, they're not heartless. They're...<br /><br />"Don't you worry. I am not about to get beaten by some mere cats." He growls, his tail poofing out. Some might notice that the wolf's teeth seem a little more pronounced than normal, and his hair is a bit more of a mess. In the darkness, it seems that the mist made the werewolf just a tad more werewolfy. Though it's likely to be nothing but a temporary effect. And it doesn't look like Skoll is particularly more aggressive.<br /><br />"Please do." The wolf waits for the Gargoyle to cast her slowing magic, and then runs straight on in. Little claws might hit him here and there, but the wolf doesn't halt. Instead, he just keeps going, kicking and punching left and right, and then finishing it with a big 'wave' of a ice-made wolf being sent forwards into the group towards the ship itself. He'll break it - so they can't flee!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Eh, erm... yes..." Eric responded to Zia, and then coughed, pretending absolutely /no outbursts/ had occured on his part.<br /><br />When they reached the airship, Eric was likewise impressed that it was still functional, but gave a nervous squeak as the eyes appeared from the deep crack in its size. Gimme Cats! The fiends! As someone who'd lived in Lindblum for two years, Eric had met these fiends before although never more than one at once, nevermind quite this many As the party and the 'owner' of the glare of Gimme Cats 'discussed' matters, Eric sincerely hoped the old woman would see reason, but as she didn't Eric said, "Now see he-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE!!!!"<br /><br />He tried to dodge, having long since dropped Ser Senra's tail, but it was no use as the attack of the cats pummeled into him, sending him careening backwards!<br /><br />"..... Owhowhow!" he squeaked, staggering back to a standing position. He whimpered, remaining seated uselessly upon his tail - he'd always run from these things, never fought them himself! Not entirely sure what exactly to do, he muttered a spell under his breath, summoning up a chill wind that would hopefully not harm those running straight into the fray. He also cast Toad on those Gimme Cats he could spot that weren't near anyone - no sense turning his allies into amphibians! Assuming he even /could/ turn anything into amphibians.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> The old woman spies Zia leaping to the skies. Gimme Cats whine as they get wet, causing the woman no end of rage. Shaking her staff, heat rises up, melting away the cold that would otherwise hurt her precious babies! <br /><br /> Everywhere that Skoll strikes, felines get swatted, followed by his creation of ice. This time, the heat can't stifle it! The blow causes the derelict ship to crack up the middle. Down goes the cage, as well! <br /><br /> Thud! The cage proves to be of inadequate construction, old iron bars shattering. The kids, though in a jumble of snake and human, seem to be relatively uninjured from first glance. Several eyes may look dazed though! <br /><br /> "MIIIIIINE! You whippersnappers don't know anything!" Yells out the Old Woman in response to Alma, as Nagetta's bouncing, Shiki's staff-wacking, and Syn's lighting leads to many of the group of kitties being on the floor. Tifa's efforts prove less useful, as some of the more agile winged felines fly upwards, one sent spinning but unharmed. <br /><br /> Faruja casts spells upon some of his closest companions, before leaping into the air. He lands before the dazed kids, swiping and generally defending the children from attack by evil felines. His spear's butt lands solid whacks against many of them. <br /><br /> "LORD IN HEAVEN I HATE GIMME CATS! BE GONE WITH YE VILE GANGLY SPINDLY FIENDS!" <br /><br /> Cue the old lady's wrath. "WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU VILE RODENT! PIPE DOWN, YOUNGIN'!" <br /><br /> She raises her staff, and plumes of fire surround Faruja, Shiki, and Skoll. Screams of terror erupt from the Burmecian as a Flare spell lights him up, the ratling flailing about as he burns, rolling on the ground.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma winces, visibly. Flare spell. <br /> <br /> On her world that was a forbidden art, not even known to most Black Mages. Most whispered it was one of the most extreme examples of Chaos Magic. And while she knew better now... it made it no less painful to watch it being brought to bear against Faruja. Which is why she began to pour all of her healing magic into him, at once. <br /> <br /> An infusion of holy light which began to work at healing the most horrific of his burns, and correct the internal problems caused by the sudden heat blast wave. She lowered herself down to her work, sweat beading on her forehead as she continued to focus on healing the remainder of his injuries.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Even as her first spell is cast, Zia can feel the strange magic already working it's way through her. She glances down, realizing that Alma is the source of it. "Thank ye, lass!" She calls, which probably isn't the best of ideas, since it's a good way to attract the enemy to her position. Meep!<br /><br />She manages to keep ahead of them by moving across the ceiling, looking more like spider-goyle than anything else. There's not enough room for real flight. Then, of course, there is shouting, and fire. Shouting and fire can only mean one thing... Burmecian barbeque. <br /><br />At the last moment, Zia pulls the wave from the cats over to cover the Nezumi, hoping to at least put out the flames as she focuses the rest of her magic on trying to keep the little cat-things away from the others.<br /><br />A heavy wind blows through, hopefully launching cats into the air all over the chamber, only to have a rain of lightning throw them back down again into the ground below, possibly puffed up from static electricity. <br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart doesn't seem to have luck with these creatures, that's for sure. She heard Shiki talk about diamonds, maybe she can bait them away from the rest for a moment using one? She has a crystal that looks like a crystal, its face but she got it as a bonus for buying bottles at a shop. Shop owner insisted too, she had forgotten about it in her pocket until now, butits worth a try.<br /><br />She picks up the ring, which has an exagerated crystal size atop of it, quickly breaking the ring part of it to keep the crystal in her hand, and holding it up "Hey kitties, I heard you like this?" And then she runs off with it. She's trying to get some heat off the others at least, limiting numbers while they take down the ones left, classic 'kiting' strategy here... Well its worth a try! Meanwhile she casts some spells to help the others at the task too.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Nagetta]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Nagetta cringes as she hears the woman's voice, it was hurting her ears a bit. It would be easier to fight if she didn't have to listen to it. She also decides to keep her in place to keep her from giving orders to the cats. That should make it easier for the others to deal with. The lamia casts a few spells hoping the mist wouldn't cause problems with them.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Synestria]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Synestria shakes her head at the old lady bringing down more gimme cats at them. She doesn't bother with words, except the arcane version where she throws out more lightning for the flying cat heads to deal with.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric had to chuckle momentarily at Faruja's verbal condemnation of the Gimme Cats, but that was all the time it took for the old woman to turn the tables on the Templar and his friends.<br /><br />"FARU!!!" the scream practically tore from the bottom of his soul as he watched the Burmecian collapse and writhe in a great plume of fire!<br /><br />He ran forwards, but there were already others helping the fallen Templar, so Eric summoned a wave of water to wash over anyone else who had been lit ablaze - it was all he could do with his mind coated in rage.<br /><br />"YOU <GOOSEHONK> <GOOSEHONK>, HE'S BURNED ENOUGH AS IT IS!!! I'LL SHOW YOU A TASTE OF YOUR OWN MEDICINE YOU <GOOSEHONK>!!!"<br /><br />And then the old woman would be finding herself and her cats contending with fire of their own, as Eric practically screamed the chant for Firaga.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel has avoided the cat swarms wrath for the moment, others like Faruja are not so lucky. She hears her friend yelling about how he hates Gimme Cats. She also wonders what Shiki meant about not giving them diamonds she'll have to ask later if she thinks of it. <br /><br /> "It could be possible the mist has warped the woman's mind." <br /><br /> Flare is not a spell to mess about with, oh it's totally not one to mess with lightly just from the destruction it could cause. Such as what it did to poor Faruja. Ya it's time to get into the mix now with disc in hand she lunges into the cat swarm launching a fairly furious barrage of disc strikes while always bouncing, weaving another wise trying to make way through the swarm.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Sneak sneak sneak.<br /><br /> Sneak...<br /><br /> Sneak sneak sneak...<br /><br /> Mr. Mew's still got that knife. And he's sneaking up on the crazy cat lady. With a knife. Sneak, sneak. Slowly. Closing in on the lady. With his knife.<br /><br /> Sneak sneak... almost... in range... just about... THERE!<br /><br /> Mr. Mew throws the knife to her left, because it's a distraction! This is a Disney game, what did you think I was going to do? After that, he totally jumps on her face. <br /><br /> Shiki is having a rougher time of it! There might not be much mist left after this, assuming the flare spells vaporise it (or does it work that way? We are talking about tortured, pureed gaian souls here rather than water vapour. Oh, I made myself sad again). She's got to concentrate entirely on dodging, because there are a lot of pillars and she's /really/ not in any condition to take even one. Faruja and Skoll being on the worst end of the flames as well, plus Alma chipping in to heal him just as quickly, pass by in a blur as she moves back and forth trying not to get fried.<br /><br /> She doesn't know if the mist would affect her Pins- she realises vaugely that she hasn't even made a Pact this time- so she'll have to just suck it and see. So she's going to be using safe stuff- no giant ice pillars, just putting the cats in deep freeze and whacking them with her Nikkari-Rod combo.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>When fire comes, Skoll is the heck out of there - leaving Faruja to be 'baked' by the power of Flare. He obviously has his own problems to deal with though. As Zia brings the cats into the air near him, they continues to lash out. And the wolf needs every bit of his skill to stay out of their greedy little claws. Not to mention, with every single swipe, he has to protect his keychains. His precious precious keychains. No way he'll let some dirty /cat/ have his chains.<br /><br />The werewolf growls at the beasts and ends up ducking underneath another swipe before he starts running straight towards the crazy and batty ol' lady. But instead of assaulting her, he suddenly jumps into the air in a method that... well... normally is reserved to people who put all their points into JUMP - like a Dragoon. And he's quick to access the boat itself and starts breaking locks!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> The holy power that flows over him, as well as the wind-magic blowing against him both help quell the flames eating at Faruja, the ratling lightly sizzling. He's curled up on the ground now, shivering, muttering words quietly. He's alive, but still severely burnt even with the pair's magicks. <br /><br /> Phobia Gained: Crazy Cat Mages <br /><br /> Thanks to Zia's magic, kitties go flying, not able to make a meal of the downed Burmecian. Lightning rains down, several twitching and making a horrid racket. As Tifa runs away, a few others start to follow her, each yelling 'Gimme!'. <br /><br /> Nagetta's and Syn's spells too reduce the cats' numbers. Deel's Disc goes flying, hitting several, the swarm swiftly being reduced. Then, as the old woman is raising her hands to cast again, there is a kitty. A Mr. Mew, right on her face. She starts yelling. <br /><br /> "Noooo my pretty! Get off of mommy! No treats! Bad! BAAAAAD!" <br /><br /> Shiki's freeing and rodding has blocks of Gimme Cats being tossed about too. One pings off of the airship. Thwack! <br /><br /> Skoll runs through the airship! Locks break! Soon enough, he may just find the Mist Engine itself, chugging away. From how corroded it looks one swift swat to a particularly bad looking lugnut would send the entire thing to a grinding halt. <br /><br /> The Insane Gimme Cat Lady is not amused. Screaming, she raises her arm for one more spell as she witnesses Eric's Firaga spell burn many of her felines to ash as she thrashes around beneath Mr. Mew. "STOP HURTING MY PRETTIES!" <br /><br /> She incants, powerful magic filling the air. Time Magic. The world seems to spin as everyone, cat, lamia, human, nezumi, and old lady are sucked up. Seems she's a little batty though, as it takes some time, leaving just enough time for preperations. <br /><br /> Nor does everyone get spat out at the same place. <br /><br /> ======= At the entrance to the Lamia's Den ======= The green haired Lamia and her guards glare at the Old Village Elder and his cohorts. Guards, human and lamia alike, look nervous. Accusations fly! It all stops as a portal opens up. Heroes rain down between the two groups, swiftly followed by lamia and human children. Finally, the old lady hits the dirt, unconscious. <br /><br /> Human and Lamia alike rush forward, hugging their missing kin. Faruja is still curled up in a ball. <br /><br /> ======= Back at the Human Village ======= A farmer looks up. Yellow eyes appear! Everywhere, unconscious Gimme Cats rain from the sky, punching holes in rooftops.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Shiki Misaki]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Shiki Misaki lands in a haystack! BUT WHERE IS HER HAT?!<br /><br /> She will have to journey across the peril-packed universe, boldly facing the flesh-rending dangers that await her, to retrieve that hat, where it has been adopted as the symbol of a bizarre religion by a group of Gremlins! Thrills and spills await her as- oh wait it's just on top of Mr. Mew.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Alma Hyral]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alma pours some more healing magic into the singed Nezumi for good measure. And then she heard the incantation of time magic. <br /> <br /> Her recent lessons made her pay extreme attention to what the crazy old lady was doing. This was... interesting. She didn't recognize /that/ spell. Oh crap, that's because on her world it was Black Magic. This was... <br /> <br /> "Oh <GOOSEHONK>!" <br /> <br /> The warp portal magic sucks her up into it, along with the rest, as she's deposited unceremoniously on the ground. For a while she definitely has the wind knocked out of her, laying there stunned upon the ground. /Ow/ "Note to self: See if he can teach me that one." <br /> <br /> She groaned, then began to get up and triage the rest of the children for injuries. The Old Lady could wait until last. She didn't particularly want to heal the wounds Mister Mew had inflicted at the behest of Shiki, aka Princess Stabbity, yet.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Indeed, with a loud CLUNK that mist-engine goes grinding to a halt. Of course, not moments later some magic sweeps the area, and poor Faruja is swept into it much like everyone else. <br /><br />FLOOMP. Skoll lands on his butt in the most undignified way. He blinks a few times. "Man, that was a soft landing." He comments, looking around a little. He seems to be a little higher than ground level. It appears he might have landed /on top/ of someone. But he's not yet quite realized this and is just remaining seated on the poor victim.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Zia]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Zia's mouth opens to cast another spell towards the ranting cat-lady and her minions, but whatever latin incantation she would have actually been murmuring is cut off and twisted into a shout of surprise as they all seem to get sucked up and shot through the nyan-cat warp tunnel of doom. It's kind of like that one level in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. Except there's no coins to collect for bashing flying pigs.<br /><br />The gargoyle is spat out and without her wings to catch her fall, she ends up slamming into Skoll, who is ontop of someone else, and possibly sending the wolf tumbling in the process. Let's hope he gets ran into with the soft bits and not, you know, gangly gargoyle knee spines or something.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Tifa Lockhart]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Tifa Lockhart was a bit away from the group when the warp spell was used. So for a moment there's no signs of the barmaid. Until there's a cry from the nearby tree. Apparently that's where she got tossed out, after being chased by the Gimme Cats all over the cave, and now she's hanging from that tail-part of her shorts. That's a good sign of how resistant her clothes are, not ripping at the seams even with her entire weight on them.<br /><br />"Hey... anyone can help me down?" -.-<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel would retort that the lady was the one that wanted to make use of violence in the first place. She's then caught in the wind she just lets out a cry as she's sent flying she might end up landing somewhere very comically. This is certainly a very much a oh <Goosehonk> sort of situation as she comes in in one of the villages? Deelel can't tell as part of her clothes are hooked from a tree and she just kinda hanging there dazed and very confused as she says. <br /><br /> "It's not supposed to work that way." <br /><br /> She could really use a hand getting down from this, she really could ha hand. <br /><br /> "A little help here...anyone?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "...Lord help me" Mutters poor, frightened Faruja as he's squished by first a werewolf, followed by a Gargoyle atop said werewolf. Luckily Alma's there with healing. The Burmecian grabs the nearest thing huggable: Skoll's tail. Hug. Cue cuddling wolf tails for comfort. <br /><br /> It doesn't take long as the children relate the story, the two sides soon shifting their focus to the old woman, and their heroes. The old lady is taken away, even as the others are tended to by snake and human healer alike. Even poor Tifa and Deelel are both helped out of a tree. <br /><br /> ====== Shard Seekers and Allies: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED ======<br /> <br /> :'''[[Skoll Ulfang]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Skoll has the /weirdest/ look on his face, as the Gargoyle ends up landing into his lap with her squishy butt, and then those eyes go wide as Faruja grabs hold of his tail. "Ehhh..." The wolf looks down at the rat, and then up at the Gargoyle. In the end... he ends up just shrugging and remains seated.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"WELL DON'T KIDNAP PEOPLE OR SET MY FRIENDS ON FIRE AND WE WON'T HAVE TO HURT YOUR <GOOSEHONK> PRETTIES YOU CRAZY <GOOSEHONK>!" shouted Eric, about a moment before he noticed the Time Magic being cast, and then they were all pulled elsewhere.<br /><br />Eric landed in an undignified heap, much like everyone else did, but fortunately a few paces away from Ser Senra.<br /><br />"Faru?" he squeaked, a study of concern crossing his face. He rose to go over (and tell off a werewolf and gargess for landing on him, as little fault as there was on their part), but he paused. These were Ser Senra's friends - they could take care of the stricken Burmecian much better than he could. So he remained distant, letting the collective efforts of the real heroes and the healers take care of the noble Templar. Eric could just slip away quietly, once no one was paying attention to a beat-up noblemouse.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-08-09T19:54:59Z

<p>Megkitty87: added more Gods to help us. XD;;;</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> |footer=Discovered lightcycles and loves them - God/Faram/etc. help us all.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and his brothers were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> =Relationship Chart=<br /> ==Family==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Laurana "Laurie" Celene Taylor<br /> | Sister (NPC)<br /> | "..... I fear I have wronged you too greatly to expect your forgiveness, even if I had only the best of intentions at the time. I should have known better, and I hope that you yet live that I might make amends for my ignorance..."<br /> |-<br /> | Johnathan Taylor<br /> | Brother-in-law (NPC)<br /> | "...I only wish I'd seen the goodness in your heart sooner, and pray that you somehow survived, but as a guardsman... you would have been at the fore of the defense, wouldn't you?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Friends==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Mogina<br /> | Housekeeper (NPC)<br /> | "What incorrigible staff I keep! Although I suppose I would be alone in the world if not for you..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Acquaintances==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Faruja Senra<br /> | Helpful!<br /> | "You are a good and honorable nezu, and I am most grateful for your assistance... but I will have a most delightful time finding out just how far your patience will go..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Blood Relatives==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Eric Bartholomew Mimsy II<br /> | Father (NPC)<br /> | "..... We may share a name, you may have my fear, but you will own me no more!"<br /> |-<br /> | Celene Norena Mimsy<br /> | Mother (NPC)<br /> | "You never really loved us, did you? True, you certainly went through the motions in rasing us, but... I've since learned that mothers actually /protect/ their children, even from their husbands..."<br /> |-<br /> | Cedric Connor Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "Hah! You change religions faster than I sell furniture! I have no respect for a nezu who cannot decide even on his own principals! ...although I suppose your principals are entirely political, aren't they?"<br /> |-<br /> | Derrick Rowan Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "You... You are as adept at crafting the opinions of others as our father, but I still know you from when we were children. Have you really transformed into an honorable dragoon?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Enemies==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> |}<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-08-09T19:53:09Z

<p>Megkitty87: updated Recent Events; update to Relationship Chart pending...</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> |footer=Discovered lightcycles and loves them - God help us all.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and his brothers were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> =Relationship Chart=<br /> ==Family==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Laurana "Laurie" Celene Taylor<br /> | Sister (NPC)<br /> | "..... I fear I have wronged you too greatly to expect your forgiveness, even if I had only the best of intentions at the time. I should have known better, and I hope that you yet live that I might make amends for my ignorance..."<br /> |-<br /> | Johnathan Taylor<br /> | Brother-in-law (NPC)<br /> | "...I only wish I'd seen the goodness in your heart sooner, and pray that you somehow survived, but as a guardsman... you would have been at the fore of the defense, wouldn't you?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Friends==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Mogina<br /> | Housekeeper (NPC)<br /> | "What incorrigible staff I keep! Although I suppose I would be alone in the world if not for you..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Acquaintances==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Faruja Senra<br /> | Helpful!<br /> | "You are a good and honorable nezu, and I am most grateful for your assistance... but I will have a most delightful time finding out just how far your patience will go..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Blood Relatives==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Eric Bartholomew Mimsy II<br /> | Father (NPC)<br /> | "..... We may share a name, you may have my fear, but you will own me no more!"<br /> |-<br /> | Celene Norena Mimsy<br /> | Mother (NPC)<br /> | "You never really loved us, did you? True, you certainly went through the motions in rasing us, but... I've since learned that mothers actually /protect/ their children, even from their husbands..."<br /> |-<br /> | Cedric Connor Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "Hah! You change religions faster than I sell furniture! I have no respect for a nezu who cannot decide even on his own principals! ...although I suppose your principals are entirely political, aren't they?"<br /> |-<br /> | Derrick Rowan Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "You... You are as adept at crafting the opinions of others as our father, but I still know you from when we were children. Have you really transformed into an honorable dragoon?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Enemies==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> |}<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Welcome_To_The_Grid Welcome To The Grid 2013-08-08T17:47:00Z

<p>Megkitty87: Missed changing Eric's name under the Cast list!</p> <hr /> <div>{{Log Header<br /> |Date of Scene=2013/08/07<br /> |Location=Manhattan Flynn's Arcade and Flynn OS<br /> |Synopsis=After weeks of work, Beck has finally repaired the laser. However something goes horribly wrong. The moment the laser is powered, it starts digitizing every single person in the room. At long last the programs have returned home however? Can they get their user friends out alive?!<br /> |Cast of Characters=Faruja Senra, Avira, Deelel, Maira, TRON, Blackbird, Oblivion, Serah Farron, Beck, Paulo Mysidi, Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III, Arthur Drover<br /> |pretty=yes<br /> }}<br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The progress had taken a lot longer then Beck was hoping it would take. Figuring out what was known as 'user tech' wasn't easy for the young mechanic program, but he managed. He also had warned TRON there was a strong chance that things could still go badly once they now started up the finished laser and that he wasn't sure what would be waiting for them on the other side.<br /><br /> After all, last he was in the Grid, he was being chased by CLU's forces.. when that TRON... No. He wouldn't think on that further. It had been several cycles since he had left-- no-- longer then that and he was sure that Mara and Zed probably thought he too had died. With the death of Abel.. that... may be to much for his two friends to even handle.<br /><br /> "Come on.." He said softly as he tried to connect the last two wires in hopes to not get zapped. "..just a bit more.." the two wires flickered and sparked at contact, until he was able to get them to charge together so he then could wrap tape around them. "..There we go.."<br /><br /> Beck then carefully placed the laser up on the pedestal, hooking up the final cables, before giving it a quick check. He then walks over to the computer typing in a few command structures to make sure it was all reading correctly. Yeah. He watched how TRON did a few of the bad tests, so he got this rather memorized. When everything showed green, he then smiled brightly, before running up the steps, "Hey TRON! I got it!!"<br /><br /> That wasn't going to catch anyone's attention at all in the Arcade who hung around...<br /><br />******************************************************************************<br /><br /> Probably after some conversation with TRON and most likely those who were hanging around with Deelel and him. Mostly since by this point everyone who was in the Arcade were either friends or people chilling inside the 'closed' Arcade. Beck quickly started to make his way back down the steps in his own excitement, pausing at one step. "I am sure I got it this time. No blowing up fruit or anything." He says holding the apple in his hand. No. It wasn't an orange. Beck doesn't do oranges.<br /><br /> So as he goes down to move to the final step. He pauses there as he picks up an odd sound. He wasn't sure what it was, also there was something funky going on suddenly with the computer. "..oh sparkets!" He quickly turns the corner and suddenly he is staring at a laser. "...TR--" Its all Beck has time to get out till suddenly the laser snags him and does its thing.<br /><br />******************************************************************************<br /><br /> The laser now seeks for anyone who comes down the room. One by one or by two. The laser will get you!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>In today's case, Avira was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was friends with TRON and...well, sort of friends with Beck but as far as figuring out the computer stuff, Avira was only so-so. She'd used computers, even shopped for some, but hadn't been a programmer. Installing software was also kind of limited so her working on the laser was not a thing that happened. <br /><br />She did like coming in and playing the arcade games, though, which is why she was here today. Beck grabs her attention with his little announcement. Curious, she follows after him down the stairs into the 'secret' room she was privy to. Not far behind Beck, she is pretty much RIGHT THERE to see him get digitized by the laser. Already aware of it's purpose, Avira's quick to turn around and shout up the stairs. "DON'T COME DOWN HERE! THE LA-" <br /><br />Her words are cut off as she too disappears.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel has found out some of what was going on back home from Beck, something else from a dream had stuck with her haunting the back of her minds, yet? It was her home she has no idea truly how messed up it had become but it had been home and from her point of view she'd been gone a very long time. It hadn't taken Beck more than a few words to get her in on it. Going home one way or another was something that was long over due for her. <br /><br /> "We;; this is good news isn't it we got it up and running, you'd managed to get it working. As for fruit I think I tripped over one on the other OS once I wonder where it came... from?! Oh so not good!" <br /><br /> She had invited some of the people he?d known fairly well over her nearly year long time in the world of the users. She hadn't expected this to happen the laser gets Beck and rapidly takes him a part digitizing him. She's trying to run trying to warn some oft he others to get out but Deelel is caught shortly after. She seems to turn to a almost block like pattern of herself. Rapidly bit by bit the digitization laser takes Deelel apart and soon there's nothing there to show the world that Deelel save her voice fading away almost in a wail. <br /><br /> "Look out!!!" <br /><br /> Well she wanted to get home but not quite like this.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird took a deep breath. It's been the first time she's been back in the arcade since she's been IN the machines that were in the arcade. She looked around, touching the cabinates to familiar icons from her childhood. Then more exploring, a droped quarter and a trip past the tron machine later she's staring at an old terminal.<br /><br />She can tell it's been used. She knew her hardware and had worked on going through a lot of vintage stuff over the years. Touch interface in the glass, impressive uptime. As in impossibly fantastic uptime.<br /><br />Then suddenly LAZOR!<br /><br />"OK." She looked around once the sensation ended and she was somewhere else. "This... is not good." She was shaking trying to keep from going bonkers. "This is very not good. Big huge laser under the arcade. Big huge server." Deep breath. "Hello? Am I alone in crazyland?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira wasn't quite as into the video games as Avira was, but she did like to watch and hang out with her friends, TRON and Deelel. She was dressed in street clothes to fit in around Manhattan, not exactly expecting to get LASERED or anything. Manhattan was one of the few places now that she felt pretty darn safe, especially with Avira beside her. <br /><br /> Whech Beck calls from the basement about something or other working, Maira sets down what she was doing (knitting) and scrambles after Avira. "Hey what's going--GAH!" she exclaims, as she is then zapped. Well, she knows what this means! <br /><br /> Then she wonders if there will be cake.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja is here with friend and fellow Shard Seeker Deelel! He's honestly curious about the Program's world, and wouldn't miss an opportunity to see what it's all about for anything. Besides, a distraction from his recent troubles would do him well! It helps that he has other friends too, some he hasn't seen in a while at that. <br /><br /> Ear-perk. Two voices, one familiar and the other not, has the Templar performing the thing that many people adverse to long term survival doing; running towards the shouting. Spear and all, glowing, the Burmecian calls out. "Ser! Deel!" Leap! Down the stairs! <br /><br /> "By the Lord, what is the...oh bloody he..." Squeak! <br /><br /> Digitizer uses Hyper Beam on Temple Rattatta. It's super effective.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON had tested the laser a few days ago in his haste to help deal with the Space Paranoids incident. This was even after Beck had warned him of possible things going wrong--and that was only to the Wise OS in order to jump into Game Central Station through the portal outside of the End of Line Club. Turns out all was well and everyone went in and got back out alright, but Beck had wanted to do more calibrations to make sure of it. <br /><br />So when Beck emerges from the basement and explains that all is well and the laser is fully operational, TRON doesn't think anything of it. It's when Beck goes back downstairs that things start going wrong. Various cut-off exclaimations pulls his attention back in that direction as people start heading downstairs, and the Security Program moves as well. <br /><br />"Wait!" He calls as he jumps down the stairs-- <br /><br />--Only to be blinded by a bright flash of light and feeling that gut-wrenching sensation of being digitized, a feeling he knows far too well. But where are they /going/?!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Forgemaster Drover is into any kind of machinery or technology. He'd met Maira previously, and was generally known to Deelel as well. His capacity for artifice and understanding of what he'd call "systems design" is well enough known. So the arcade has drawn him in the day before, and for the Sugar Rush Race on a prior occasion. Today though, as he perused the frontroom, the synthesist had spotted this back room's door. Less likely to heed a "keep out" sign with the flashy gadgets around, he stole inside. Glowing lights, a panel or two. Interesting enough. His fingers were just running over a likely-looking bit of machinery, instinctual knowledge in the older man sparking first assessments, when light blotted out his world. <br /> <br />He had seen others around, but honestly with a piece of 'tech in the room, Arthur has eyes for little else. <br /> <br />When the smoke - and mirrors - clear, he's running his hands over his torso to check that it is still there. It is not. <br /> <br />Or rather, his satchel, equipment, items - represented but not the same. His clothes are glowing around the sleeves. Gaudy but secondary to the larger problem. "That was quite a thing." He assesses his surroundings with a trapper's trained eye. <br /> <br />Routes of egress and access. In his younger days, he was renowned as a monster hunter, now he's renowned for never running. Arthur leans against the nearest safe thing he can find to lean against, and tries to take it in and get his breathing under control.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron heard the commotion going from the arcade. Deelel, which she had found to be around along with recent events in the Game world. She spent some time playing with the machines too, a bit impressed with some of the games. She spent a bit of time on the Sugar Rush racing game too, since she actually inside of it before. She figure that maybe she can train with it where she won't get deleted if she messes up at least.<br /><br />But then there's shouts coming from the back room. It gets her curious, and a bit worried... and noone actually seems to finish their sentences for some reason. Maybe they are unconcious, and need healing? Well, let's go take a l-<br /><br />LAZER!!!!<br /><br />-.-<br /><br />She should have known better. She really doesn't understand much about these digital worlds, even ifs he has the feeling she's been here before. A pink haired girl, that might fit more in the aforementionned candy land game, now part of the digital world. At least she didn't trip her way in like some of the others, fortunatly enough. No rat pancake under her relatively light weight at least, but she does offer him a hand up "You have any idea what's going on here?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric was distracting himself by inspecting the artwork on an arcade machine - /How delightfully colorful!/ he thought secretly to himself - when suddenly a familiar shout rang out.<br /><br />"Ser Senra???" the Burmecian nobleman said, nervously walking towards the source of the sudden commotion. Yes, he had heard various other shouts, but he'd not thought much of it until Faruja's. He hadn't known the Templar long, but he didn't seem one prone to exclamations without reason (that weren't some religious speech, at least). He started walking at a brisker pace now, as more people sounded like they were disappearing.<br /><br />"Ser Senra, if this is a practical joke then I must say for a Templar you have rather a rather interesting and tricky group of friends!"<br /><br />Eric rather liked practical jokes - mostly playing them - but he didn't like being the victim of one involving fright. When he reached the doorway to the room, he gave pause, then inquired, "Ser Senra?"<br /><br />He hesitated a moment, then went down, looked around, and managed to say, "Ser Senra, this really isn't-" ZAP!<br /><br />He gave an awkward squawk of alarm as he found himself suddenly elsewhere, but suddenly noticed he had extra digits and no claws and no- "WHERE'S MY TAIL?!!!"<br /><br />No, Eric was not in the top percentage of rattatas, so to speak<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi has been there during the whole laser. Really that device itself interested him-- as well as having conversations with both Deelel and Beck about technology. Although the sage from a vastly different culture does not understand all of the specifics-- he is gradually understanding the concepts. Frequently he is writing notes in that large book of his. Irony as it is-- he doesn't even notice the laser-ing due to him writting. Even during the entire process he continues to scribble away-- possibly one of the few not to get the immediate shock effect. That comes after his head raises from the book.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck is spat out of the laser and goes crashing across the Arcade floor that was a copy of its real life safe. He slides a bit, before rolling to a stop against one of the equipment cases. He places his hand down against the black floor, before slowly lifting himself up. His hazel brown eyes glance around, before he stands up. The he sees the next person get popped out-- then the next-- then the next. They kinda keep coming really.<br /><br /> By this point Beck is just kinda standing there with his mouth slightly open before he clamps it shut. Once he believes everyone is out, he reaches back behind him and looks at his disc. Then-- all the people here who don't even /have/ discs. How does that work?<br /><br /> Along with the fact a few seemed like they were probably freaking out. While others seemed rather calm. This-- was going to be a fun cycle.<br /><br /> "..Great.. I guess.. that means will have to go to Purgos.." He then glances out the frosty window for a moment. "..and we are in TRON city.." He voice holds some concern. This could be a problem with this many people. He then takes his disc and flips it around before he connects a white site with his own.<br /><br /> "Ok. Everyone. Listen up. First off, you guys OK?" Beck asks before he twirls his own disc for a moment. "Secondly, whatever you do. If you see anyone in red, you may as well classify yourself as dead." He then connects the disc to his backside. His light suit which was black starts to voxel up to white before it covers his entire body. White lines flash against the suit, before a blue T suddenly forms on his chest.<br /><br /> He looks like he is wearing the exact same suit as another program here. Then a helm slides up, before a black visor then slides down covering his face completely. "Third.. don't call me Beck here." He looks over at TRON. "..Its TRON." He almost said that with some sadness in his voice really before he turned away from everyone. "..or as CLU's forces like to put it. The Renegade. If you try to call me by my name. I will ignore you, I will only acknowledge you if you call me TRON."<br /><br /> The Renegade then lowers his head as he sees a light suddenly move through the frost windows. "..and about that see red your dead. You may be seeing allot of red soon." He then reaches for his disc, before it flicks on. "..because you see... to them.. most of you are what we called Strays. Strays get put into the games. You /don't/ want to be in the games."<br /><br /> "Now ready yourselves!"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird looked over at Serah and quirked an eyebrow at the suit. She herself was wearing hrer motercycle leathers thankyouverymuch! "Welcome to..." She gestured expansivly at the inside of the recieving area where lazored things go, "Wherever this place is!" Then a helpless shrug and look around. Curious guy with one eye, Other people. <br /><br />"Hm." More loking around. "Uh huh I don't see a terminal or laser on this end so I kinda don't think standing around will get us back." Calm voice, or at least attempt at calm voice. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted the teal glow line along her pant legs and more faint lines along her outer sleeves.<br /><br />Then she spotted TRON and blinked. Blink. Blinkblinkblink. STARE. "I... thought you were one of the game sprites. Sorry?" She shuffled about. Then coughed. "Uh... anyone know where we are?" Lame question, unsure voice.<br /><br />Then Beck er... Tron. She looked from Tron to... uh... Tron and frowned. "Games? Strays?" This is mah clueless face.<br /><br />She shrugged and looked to Beck. "Well you're the tour guide. Lead on."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi doesnt realize he is even digitized until he raises his head. "What the..." Fill in the blank. Well at least he looks about the same. Roughly. The gold on his robes are now a nice hue of blue-- otherwise he is still a robey sort of fellah. "Never a dull moment," replies the young man-- closing his book. He smiles-- putting it away. Being seconds from 'dead' seems fairly common lately. It loses its sting until it happens!<br /><br />"So... can't we just leave?" wonders the sage as he tilts his head. Mostly this question goes to Deelel.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Ow. Faruja grumbles, clanking and making several distressed noises. Which only redoubles as Sarah lands on him. Luckily, she's rather light. "...Good 'eve Lady Sarah." Seems he's acted as a cushion for the woman before. <br /><br /> And our dear noble friend Ser Eric is freaking out. Admittedly, the place is a bit odd, but not /too/ bad. His armor and clothes are mostly the same, though amidst the green of his robes there's lines of green. A bit hard to see, if it weren't for the glowing. <br /><br /> Then, Faruja Senra tries to stand. Up! <br /><br /> "Dear Lord, Ser Bartholomew! Will you very kindly cease making a rack...OH DEAR FARAM WHERE IS MY TAIL!?!?" <br /><br /> Tumble, thud! The rat is no longer a rat, but a human. He's still missing his eye, and the bandages are there as well as the burn marks beneath. From the way things look, he's having more than a little trouble balancing, as he quite literally tumbles head-over-missing-tail. That cry of dismay does still sound a bit rattish. <br /><br /> "...Oh Faram preserve me, it turned me into a human." Faruja sounds positively /miserable/. At least an ear is perked towards Beck. Seems like he's listening. Hopefully Deel will fill them all in! <br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON digitizes in a spare space and drops to a crouch as soon as it's complete, the circuitry lines on his white bodysuit flaring to life. Immediately, a rush of data hits his processor--data from the Other, the original TRON. A memory of a beacon of light piercing the dark skies, heralding the arrival of-- <br /><br />He rises to his feet, voxels darkening to black as his pure black opaque helmet fully obscures his hair and face. Faint dots and dashes of bluish-white light are the only indication of his identity, and only if someone knows this certain form. <br /><br /><"There iz no time to try getting back to Uzerzpace."> His voice is completely modulated, not even a hint of his usual tones audible. <"They already know we are here. We need to go."> He nods over to the Renegade and unlocks his Silver Disc from his back--strange how that didn't change over as well. He still has a Black Disc on his back, though.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira likely bumps right into Avira after they are both digitalized and sent into Flynn OS. She is not freaking out because she has done this before. Sort of. Not this OS, but she figures it must be a similar situation at least. Why did those lasers seem to have minds of their own? Furthermore, why did every single one of them run down into the basement to get zapped!? Bunch of lemmings. <br /><br /> Maira steadies herself and looks around, frowning softly. Beck addresses them, and she listens. She'll go ahead and still assume water is lava, but hopefully fire is alright? "Guys in red? H-hey, we can defend ourselves you know..." she replies, looking around. She knows a great many people here and they are /tough/ <goosehonk>s. <br /><br /> Upon looking around, she then almost falls over in shock. "FARUJA!?" she asks, running over to help support him. He must have come in behind her, for she didn't see how injured he was. But first--"Faruja you're--you are--oh my goodness!" she says, then hugs him gently. "--And what /happened/ to you!?" she asks. <br /><br /> Maira then looks over to TRON, eyes widening. "What do you mean? Are we in trouble? Ugh..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira falls backwards as she reforms from the laser's blast, landing on her rear. Her heart falls as she sees person after person arrive after her. So much for following instructions. <br /><br />She pushes herself up to her feet, her usual clothing retaining the same shape but now a matte black, overshadowed by the white lines that seem to outline the various edges. "I'm fine." <br /><br />She looks to Beck, now TRON, tilting her head with confusion. The Renegade...ah yes, their first encounter. <br /><br />"What do you mean by Strays?" Avira questions sharply, arming herself with her weapon, the Spine. The Spine is just as glowy as the rest of her clothing here.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Wise OS had been close to home as was Game Central? Yet neither were quite right for the basic. She'd dreamed of home some times when her memory had been restored. Home came to her, she'd given her nature? Was able to look at her own memories in perfect detail yet? It was a memory it was not experiencing home once again. It was not fully logical, yet it well it was true in a way. She'd wanted to go home so badly for so long, yet this wasn't quite the way she'd planned on it. She feels the world shift and everything goes back. She's not even opened her eyes yet but things feel right as reality comes back to her fully it felt right, the temperature, the air, everything felt right she pushed herself up off the floor and looks over at everyone for a moment. <br /><br /> "Purgos? ... Right." <br /><br /> She shakes her self a little bit as she looks about for a moment and looks rather sheepish as she addresses everyone here. <br /><br /> "Welcome to the grid. Listen to what he has to say." <br /><br /> She checks to see her batons are still on each hip and she's got her disc, also Deelel outfit has changed it's now lacking any pretense are being human made as she looks to black birds. <br /><br /> "Strays are programs who have lost their discs and their minds. The are rounded up even still now to be repaired or ... worse." <br /><br /> "No, I didn't leave the grid conventionally I'm still not sure how it happened." <br /><br /> Faruja wait that's Faruja? By her user, it is him and he's looking human. <br /><br /> "...it seems this world has an effect on outsiders like several others. You don't look too bad as a human Faruja. He's correct its time go move." <br /><br /> Deelel pauses as suddenly a hamlet much like the other programs appears over her head masking her identity as well as a half cloak forms about her. Her voice now is likewise distorted. <br /><br /> "Numbers it's as TRON said, things have got bad we need to get moving. We can talk more once we are somewhere safe. This isn't how I wanted to show you my home but it looks like we're going to get a crash course." <br /><br /> She only had two cycles it wouldn't be enough they might need to get a better transport. <br /><br /> "TRON, we're going to need some form of transport as it's going to be a ways to Purgos."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck will let Deelel expain stuff, his focus apparently was on the door and his disc was lit up. He seemed pretty tense and with the other light going through the window.. he was getting very tense.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird Headshook and looked around and lingering at Faruja and the concern and apparent change. "So hm. You going to be alright?" She waited for an answer then saw Deelel pop up. A RECOGNIZEABLE FACE!<br /><br />"Alright Deelel you say we need to move we move. Just... we're a huge group. Do we split up try not getting noticed or rounded up all in one clump?" Curious voice. She had questions. LOTS of questions, but they werne't safe. iNstead she closed her eyes and focused, holding her hand out flat til a small flame appeared in her palm before fading out. "Yep. Magic still works. Anyone need healing before we get going?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi has no idea what is going on and nothing so far has helped clarify the situation. He looks around for someone to test the waters out with. "Nope," says the man as he holds his hand out. Flame to Ice to Lightning to Holy to Flame and POOF! Well at least some of the basics work. That is a strange relief. Noticing Maira, he makes light of the situation-- creeping over, "Oooooh. We are in a strange placceee. Fire war?" Yes. Paulo is not taking this seriously. Lets play a game of fire war-- where we burn each other up until one of them needs BURN HEAL.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The older man has taken his moment. "Oi, lass." This at Avira. "Lad, head outta the clouds." At Paulo. The two hadn't parted on the best terms, but this doesn't seem to be a huge problem. He digs around in his satchel and finds that his emergency supplies are still there, perhaps digitized but present nonetheless. "Likewise on the healing, I've tinctures that can mend at least. Let's heed the warnings of our kind hosts and not risk a fight in another's territory." <br /> <br />The smith has been walking as he spoke. He stares down whatever streets he can find, the digital glow discomfiting, but this is not so terrifying as it is strange and new. He's checking for any sign of encroaching forces. He's ALSO peering into bins for discarded data he can understand, or signs of aid. He's more vulnerable than most. Someone who fights using the environment is off his footing when put in unfamiliar space. "And here I was two days away from retirement." he intones, deadpan, taking a dagger out of his pocket and trying to score the ground beneath his feet in order to see what effect this might have. The dagger is mythril - or it was. Who knows what it is now?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur Drover says, "I've lived a lot, lad. That's why I'm scared for my blessed life right now, but it's a good fear, gets the muscles pumping. An' if ye don't show some respect I'll reach into your claudication and turn it insie' out. Don't think I can't." But there's mirth in his eyes as he lets out a "thbbbbt" in return."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Glorious, glorious hugs. And there's no fire involved to boot! By Faram, Faruja Senra has needed hugs these last few days. Cue hugs without shame, and even a little Reize-esque crying. "My wonderful, wonderful friend, hardly could I say. And...bah, no time!" The now ex-Burmecian glances, about, slowly getting to his feet. TRON. Avira. Maira. Deelel. He feels safe already. He's not sure about some of the others, but the group in general seems tied through various associations. It's a good indicator. Even if there's a noble along. <br /><br /> "Red enemies, and they yet know of our arrival. Simple enough. And quite the response time, I must say. Impressive." <br /><br /> Smile! He gets steady on his feet, for some amount of steady. "Dear Lord how do you humans move without a proper tail..." grumble grumble. His spear is out, and already he's in front of Maira. Tank go! <br /><br /> "Lady Deel, thy bar tab is mine own when next we go out! Er...thank thee..." Blush! Dang compliments. <br /><br /> He tilts his head slightly, already vexed at not being able to move them to hear. A wave of the hand to Blackbird. "I...shall manage. The sooner we are gone, the better methinks." <br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron has been in some of those digital worlds before, but she doesn't know what's giong on this time. Last time she entered through a similar 'laser', but it feems a bit different this time. She blinks at Tron's announcement "Strays? Are they considered... as bad things?" She knows all about being an outcast. She has the reflex of rubbing her upper arm, where there's a bandange covering. "... I rather not stay around to see what happens in person." <br /><br />Not to mention that 'Purgos' kinda sounds like Purge, which is something that happened, and she pretty much caused because of the events there..." She decides to stick close to Mr Rat Knight too.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird glowers at Paulo. "Too flashy and wastes resources we don't have to spare." Hard voice and snappish lady as she checked her pockets, pulled phone out and frowned at the inert black rectangle. "Also my phone is dead." She closed her eyes. Nothing. "Still dead.... but Magic works and we're fugitives on the lamb... or something. I'm with that guy there." She points to Arthur. "It's alright to be scared. I'm scared. I'm not much good in a fight, but i can keep you meatheads going. Anyone else know healing magic?" She's speaking fast now, panic creeping in. "What do you think, magi in the middle, ring of tanks?" Shifty eyes looking 'round. Good idea yes yes?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira looks over and flashes a smile to Paulo, fellow mage and mischief maker it would seem. Maira laughs lightly, shaking her head. "I'd win," she says with a wink. <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Arthur, nodding. "Well obviously, I don't want us to get caught in a fight if we don't need to, if we need to move lets move--and I have healing too. Phew, that's really nice. A lot of people with healing magics and potions. I've gotten so use to usually being the only one," she admits. She is sort of the resident medic for VALKYRI, after all. <br /><br /> Back to Faruja, Maira leans in to press a quick kiss to his forehead. He has obviously been through quite an ordeal. "Later, we'll talk my friend!" she comments. <br /><br /> To Blackbird, Maira smiles gently. "We'll be alright, we just stick together. Someone will guard you if you don't fight well, don't worry miss." Maira has her trusty not-currently-a-rat tank, even injured as he is. She gives Faruja a look, but just shakes her head. She's not going to make an issue of it in front of all these people. A man needs his pride. Sometimes.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi shakes a glorious fist at Arthur, but all the while he is grinning broad. He turns to Blackbird and raises an eyebrow, "Wait-- what? Speak for yourself! I have plenty of resources." Its true, he does. Most of them in sugar form. Of course to the 'who can heal', Paulo shrugs, "I'd answer but I dont want to 'show off', your highness." <br /><br />Finally, some kindred spirits. Paulo goes to nudge Maira, "When we get out of here-- you are so on."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel knew trouble was coming but if she could settle her friends it would hell their odd of surviving. <br /><br /> "Any magic may be seen as viral possibly keep that in mind." <br /><br /> She looks over to Arthur for a moment nodding a little but her face hidden and wonders if Arthur is temping fate with that comment. There's little she can do about it. <br /><br /> "We have to be prepared also please don't use my name. I have not been flagged for anything except perhaps being missing. Just keep that mind mind as well. I have faith in you, agreed. This could be bad, the grid is far more militant now then when. We only have two people who know the region at all, even then we'll still be in a huge group. Better to keep together unless TRON calls otherwise."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Alright." Arthur reaches into his pockets. "I don't trust my potions, my bow no longer remotely resembles a weapon..." he gestures the the old horn bow, now a blocky pixellated monster with no string, "and I'm no mage - but there's one thing that should be the same on all worlds." <br /> <br />What shimmer in the smith's hands are like jewels as they pour form the pouch, red, blue, green, white, orange, all glowing from within. "Maira. These are a result of our experimentation in Gummitech. I managed to bind a spell into the material. Consider them your payment. Each is different, I don't have time to explain. Throw and run." <br /> <br />A pouch, glistening with a silvery shimmer unlike the burlap which birthed it, is tossed to the woman. "Share with those as need." <br /> <br />The items were a new discovery, made of the stuff from the space between worlds. It's probably as alien as it gets, and in response to Deelel's warning, he adds: "Best save them for emergencies. They're about two thirds the power of a spell cast by a journeyman, but you can use a bunch of them or lay traps if you see the delay catch on the side."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric had tumbled to the floor upon entry, and had noticed the distinct lack of claws on his hands when he'd tried to push himself up, also noting the strange light-blue lines on the sleeves of his black tuxedo. His top hat was likewise bedecked with a line on each side forming a ring on the top of his hat, and his glossy black cane had digi-lines all down it. Now he kept trying to stand and faceplanting, because Nezumi typically stand with ankles raised off of the ground, and human legs just didn't have the musculature to keep that up for long.<br /><br />"Strays?!! We are not animals on the street!" Eric exclaimed in indignation, huffing and crossing his arms irritably - he'd rather given up on the rather ungraceful business of standing for now and was sitting cross-legged on the floor. At least that was still doable.<br /><br />Eric was a little jealous of all the coddles Faru was getting, but then these were his friends, so Eric settled for stating with a smirk, "Methinks your girlfriend is a touch doting of thee for such mixed company."<br /><br />He was joking, really, and what a wonderful first impression he was giving everyone.<br /><br />His head perked at the mention of fire wars - he was likewise irked at the lack of ears to twitch about - but he kept his face neutral. It sounded fun, aside from actually burning anyone. He spared a glance at Ser Senra<br /><br />"W-wait, you mean we can't use magic?!!!" Eric squeaked. This was a touch problematic for all the mages here, which he was one.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi shakes his head to Eric, "No. It means if you use magic you'll be treated as a virus. A virus being a bad thing." Lets be honest here, a royal sage from Mysidia doesnt really know what a virus is outside of the Bio spells. He continues on, "Though if what Be-- er TRON-- was saying is true-- being a virus seems the least of our worries. We are already 'Eradicate on Site' to the locals. So breathe. Breathe in... breathe out..."<br /><br />The young blonde sage looks to Deelel, "We are breathing right. This world-- air goes in us, ya? Or is this psuedo not-really-air air? Or can we not call it air, for fear it has been classified as another 'Nono' word and will amplify our potential for destruction from the locals?" Yes. Rules. Blerg.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird nods. Healing and or Magic might seem Viral. Wait.... Viral? She looked from Deelel to Tron to Beck and shook her head."OK. Dumb question. Where did hte laser spit us out at?" Thoughts and ideas bumped around and collided in her head. "This place is giving a very space paranoids vibe. I don't want to be the person to ask stupid but knowing the enviroment might be helpful to us newbies.."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> It wasn't to long until those lights out side suddenly blazed right onto the building. It came right through the door. The sound of marching feet could be heard not to long after Beck had tenses up fully. And soon the door was suddenly kicked right down. Two by two they marched in. Massive wide shoulders and no real faces to see. Their circuit lines were red and staves in their hands that had glowing red tips.<br /><br /> Beside them were much thinner units, with disc in their hands. CLU's forces were here.<br /><br /> One of them spoke up. "All Programs," Their voices were deep and slightly distorted, almost robotic. "You are to stand down and be.." Suddenly they stared at Beck. "Its the Regenade! Then these are.."<br /><br /> Another one speaks up. "Get him and those programs!"<br /><br /> And thus the sudden charge of at least ten different guys came rushing in fully.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The Renegade however was ready for this, so when they marched in. His hand was already tense. He leaped into the air and fired off his disc with a spin. Before catching it, sending it at another guard. Then at another. "If you can fight, FIGHT! If you can't, stay at the rear!"<br /><br /> Then the Renegade ran up a wall before he flipped off and just tossed his disc once again for good measures. He wasn't sure what to do to get them out of here. TRON city was a big city. They could take the back ways and underground tunnel, but they have to get their first.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird eyenaarrowed when the lights went out. No more questions. time to move but... but but... Well when in doubt BUFF. She looked over to TRON, the one in black, the one she sorta knew. and started layering on magic.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Yes...let's, my dear." Responds Faruja to the good, reliable, lovable Fire Lady. Really, who could ask for a better friend? <br /><br /> A sharp intake of breath. That isthe sound of a Templar trying to not strangle a noble. "Oh, she is most tolerant and kind!" Breathe out. Save the violence for the guys in red. If he still had a tail, it'd be lashing right now. <br /><br /> There are good questions being bandied about, though, and the rat listens. <br /><br /> There are people rushing in, however, before he gets any good answers. Kicking down the door, in fact. Faruja frowns. <br /><br /> "Fah! While thy response time is most admirable, Sers, thy lack of an intimidating presence as a whole as well as thy emotionless delivery deducts three points. Seven out of ten points. BACK TO TRAINING WITH YE, KNAVES!" Cue Faruja sweeping in with his spear, stabbing and swatting at anyone who dares get close to Maira.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Yeah yeah yeah," Paulo says-- despite the obvious danger he has difficulty taking it seriously. Digital Paulo holds his hand out-- chanting wordlessly as his lips part. When the hand closes-- a hexagon-like barrier appears towards Faru, Deelel, and Maira. "Running or staying?" he asks the fearless leaderships.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Well, there goes the plan of leaving as quietly as possible... They are spotted. And they aren't happy either. She heard about not using magic, but... there's not much choice here either. She pats Faruja's shoulder encouragingly as she takes a step back, and takes a sweeping look at everyone around her "I have your back, you can count on my healing!" She announces to them confidently.<br /><br />She brings her hands together, looking as if offering a prayer, as she chants up her magic, two shimmering shields for magical and physical protection surrounding Faruja and Deelel. She's the White Mage of this party.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur moves quicksilver fast. Whipcord muscles tug something from his pocket. A weapon? <br /> <br />Arthur has produced a much-loved and dogged picture of his wife. <br /> <br />Yeah, a weapon. He takes a delicate moment to fold it up and place it in his pocket. Arthur doesn't run, he doesn't rush. He famously doesn't rush. The forces encroach and there's a moment's grunting assay. Their posture, their yell, this is hostility both open and malicious. <br /> <br />"Group together. " He hurls a dagger - or the digital representation of a dagger. It flies with surprising accuracy. There is a string tied to it. It has a group of violent orange gummis tied to the handle. A moment later, it explodes into a line of flame intended to bisect the battlefield, cutting some of the enemy forced aside and giving Tron his opening. <br /> <br />But the fire doesn't stop there. This time he hurls a spheroid object overhand, and it lands in a gust of wind that fans the flames higher still and rains purple-green data down on the opposing force. Once this is done, the smith begins to hum. <br /> <br />"Ding, dong didero~ Black coal yellows..." <br /> <br />Whatever the black, faintly shimmering, poorly voxelated object is, it was once a Dwarven catalytic stone. Now it might as well be hellfire. "We all go home, kids." <br /> <br />The flames leap like a living thing, the violent orange probably offensive. No point hiding it now. Once the mirror's broken, it doesn't matter how ugly you were.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>No magic? No problem for Avira. She's trained for this! Some brief words are exchanged with Faruja before things really get bad and she marvels over the whole 'Faruja is a HUMAN' thing for a few seconds. With a few quick steps, she's over by Maira, standing close to her, shoulders hunched. <br /><br />"Stay close to me." she warns her, idlily wondering if Maira was carrying a gun on her now that Mercade gave her lessons. She...really should. Especially for situations like these. But at least Arthur has her back! With /Gummi Grenades/. <br /> <br />The nearest...blackguard is it? that ventures too close is suddenly assaulted with the spine, which is just as sharp and dangerous as it is in the real world. Even without magic, Avira proves herself to be extremely capable with her unusual weapon.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON twirls his Silver Disc between his fingers as his attention temporarily disconnects from the conversations around himself. Perusing the data Flynn gave him, evaluating the images, trying to... remember...? Just /why/ is it so terribly easy to access this data when it is a distraction at best even in Userspace? <br /><br />There is no more time. <br /><br />The doors derez in a shower of voxels, admitting a new group of Programs--red lines, armor--so terribly familiar, but reskinned from what he truly /knows/. His Silver Disc activates with an ominous hum, illuminating the black glassy surface of his full-face visor without revealing the face underneath, and takes a defensive stance. <br /><br /><"You heard the Renegade!"> He finds it far too easy to let Beck take the lead considering the circumstances. <"And whatever you do--ztay together!"> <br /><br />He lunges forwards a step as he throws his Disc, aiming to have the frisbee-like object ping-pong amongst as many of the 'security forces' as possible. He grabs a pike from another, attempting to wrench it out of the Program's hands and use it against he and his fellows, before catching-and-throwing his Disc once more into their midst.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel sees the red lined programs oh this was going to get crazy, this was so going to get crazy as more and more guys come in he disc comes out. She says nothing she's not going to talk she hears The Renegade call out orders and her disc is already armed at this point, she's gong to fight where she has to but she's aiming to not kill just disable them, it's faster anyway. <br /><br /> She runs several command lines boosting her combat abilities. However her friends were going to get so much notice. They are her friends but she just sees how chaotic they can really be. A thought strikes her about them but that's something best saved for later, she's not even sure how Beck would take the comparison. She' now closes as her friends are forming up into combat with the local Blackguard. This was going to be a heck of a welcome back. She twists she shifts she moves to disable as she planned. IF anyone notices her efforts who knows? She's not about to let a friend get killed but ...doesn't feel right to kill if she doesn't have to.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira nudges Paulo back, laughing quietly. "Alright, if you're sure!" she replies. That should be fun and interesting! Better make sure to, you know, live. That is of rather paramount importance, actually. <br /><br /> Maira looks then to Arthur, her eyes growing round as he passes her the bag filled with gummi--infused with spells. "Ohhh...." she says, a world of possibilities entering her mind. Oh, they're gonna need to talk after this! "Ehehe...alright, I'll be careful with them! And I will try to keep my magic to a minimum but its...really all I can do," she says, biting her lip gently. She's no Avira, who has some spells but is also a badass warrior. Maira is squishy. Like, really squishy. <br /><br /> Thinking about that, is of course the moment that the big scary dudes break the door down, assume they are all the enemy, and start attacking. Maira's eyes widen and she reaches for Blackbird to move her behind her--hey, maybe she's even squishier, or at least less used to people trying to kill/kidnap her. Blackbird has the right idea though, its buffing time. She can fight, but its probably best if she stays toward the back, which she does. <br /><br /> The mage smile and nods to Paulo as she recognizes his protection spell being applied to her, and waves her hand to do likewise--though her protection is different. Maira takes a breath then reaches up to press a hand against her chest roughly over where her heart is, letting out a few soft notes that ring pure through the otherwise discordant din of battle. A warmth is carried by her brief song, settling over Paulo, Avira, and Faruja. <br /><br /> She took a level in bard, okay?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira then takes a moment to look toward Eric, his comment finally registering. "I'm not Faruja's girlfriend, silly. He's just a dear friend," she replies with a smile. She's not embarrassed. Amaaaazing.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Well Eric was already breathing, but he was finding himself following Paulo's instructions for some odd reason, upon which he said, "Hey!"<br /><br />But that was when /things/ suddenly came through the door - human-looking things with red lines army-marching through the door! And Eric started following Paulo's instructions anew - he didn't have the courage of Faruja and certainly didn't have the battle experience. He was just a spoiled, rich little merchant who does magic tricks for kids, that's all! Although even magic tricks can be deadly, and with panic mounting into rage, Eric summoned a ball of fire into his hand, lobbing it overhead to strike at whatever red-lined enemies weren't being cut apart by the blades of the warriors.<br /><br />To Maira's comment, he simply smirked and said in mock-disbelief, "Certainly, my dear."<br /><br />Eric, stop yanking your allies' chains mid-battle.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck's own disc comes slashing through the troops. Knocking a few of them back and derezing one of them. Then Faruja's spear slams through one of the thinner guards, and when the spear was pulled out, his whole body crumbles down to voxel of cubes onto the ground.<br /><br /> The Flames impact the others, causing them to stagger back as their bodies nearly catch on fire. They knew what fire was. They had explosion here on the Grid, just like they had weather. A few of them end up getting burned alive and they too, become voxels.<br /><br /> Yet more continue to storm in. The news of the Regenade was here was passing quick and one of them even yells to kill the Regenade and capture the others for the games.<br /><br /> Avira' sword comes in and one with a disc quickly counters the weapon, as one of the larger ones with a staff ends up slamming it right into Avira's hammer. The red end of it which makes contact may send a bit of a jolt through her body.<br /><br /> Though the Dwarf attack was most effective, many of the guards quickly moves away after the first group got put onto fire. This means now that several of them are on the move and heading right for everyone. Disc being thrown, staffs being swung Though one a few get targeted. As it seem the numbers were indeed thinning out.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird growls low as she looked at the guards before running at one of the thinner ones. Suicide? Madness? Nope! As she ran she pulled her pistol out, an old 1911 colt. She didn't know if it would work here, but it dind't matter since it was empty. She just used it as a convenient focus. Instead she leveled it at her target and opened fire; channling fire and lightning through the weapon and sending each in small orange and blue-white blobs out. And then if she wasn't already cut to ribbons she'd try pistol whipping the poor guard with the butt of her pistol.<br /><br />It's only in mid-run that she noticed Thing had hit her. Oh well Thing hadn't actually HURT her yet. So KEEP GOING.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja at once is Protect'd, Shell'd, and Song'd thanks to the combined efforts of Serah, Paulo, and Maira. A nod to the trio, Faruja already feeling better, makes for another attack. It's wobbly, and his newness on his feet shows. He glances to Avira, muttering prayers for her inclusion. He can certainly trust her to protect Maira should his new problems cause him to falter! <br /><br /> Then, there's fire. Faruja gasps, old fears welling up inside of him. He grips his spear tighter, breathing hard. The smell of burning bodies fills his nose...<br /><br /> No. He grits his teeth, and moves that much closer to Maira. Think of /her/. The warm, friendly flames. Not the ones being thrown by his fellow ex-Burmecian. <br /><br /> Frown. "My, my, my. Back to training indeed." Mutters the rat. But, of course, the weaklings have numbers. They must not get paid much. <br /><br /> Spear-thrust! "Shining light, spill down with divine retribution! Holy Explosion!" The heavenly light of Holy Explosion slams down, seeking to reduce more security to voxels. They're not playing nice, and neither is the rat. Not when his friends are in danger. Then, up goes his spear, parrying and generally keeping the heat off of Maira like a good PalaDragoon.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck somehow manages to go ignored. Maybe because of what TRON did. Either way he slides through some of the guards, "Excuse me." Before snatching up a few batons that have fallen to the ground.<br /><br /> The white suited program then quickly uses one of the guards to jump onto and spring board off, before he yells over to a few. "Catch!" He then tosses out for batons to four people. He then flips one of them over. Before he then spins his disc around the area. Allowing it to ping pong off the walls, before jumping up into the air to recatch it and then, tossing another one through some of the guards.<br /><br /> Before tossing out a few more batons.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The Synthesist notices the approaching forces. "We should be thinking about retreat, now." He calls it aloud. No point worrying about being overheard. "We've all got a reason to leave and no one plays the martyr. Play the man instead. Savin' yer presences." <br /> <br />This is directed generally at those of a female or feminine persuasion, and followed by a genteel smile. His voice turns more gruff as he adds: "And if any of you die, remember that a forgemaster rules hell, and he might owe me a favor. Now come on!" <br /> <br />The movement is languid, almost practiced. He pulls the bow from his shoulder. <br /> <br />Arthur is leery. A consummate artisan, now armed with a blocky mess. His bracers didn't manifest. A string of energy springs to life on the weapon, as if it remembers what it is and what it is for. He nocks an arrow, which looks blocky and not at all pleasing - but it holds. <br /> <br />The "string" is ephemera - light and air and little more. When he fires the arrow, he doesn't fire at the forces of Oblivion, he fires straight up instead. <br /> <br />Where the shot hits the ceiling, it turns into a starburst, bright as a second sun - assuming there is a first sun, he hadn't checked and doubted it could be called a sun. <br /> <br />But the light doesn't blind, it's a warming thing. Not magical, just pyrotechnics and a vaporous distribution of regenerative chemicals. Or so it would have been in the real world. <br /> <br />Here it might as well be hope. <br /> <br />At that moment, he kicks backward, momentarily not under attack. Another practiced move as Drover tries desperately to find an alleyway not clogged with the red tide. Above, the sun blazes like a beacon, unafraid for all it probably sends ripples of awe or notice through the system.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi looks back and over to the beneficial spells. A thumbs up goes back to Serah, "I'll leave the defensive magic to you!" He paces forwards-- towards the hordes as he finds a spot nearby Faru. Yes-- right in the thick of combat. His hands start glowing where an orb barely shimmers. "So, you getting used to your new form? I haven't seem you fall yet," he engages in candid commentary to Faru-- flashing a grin back to Maira who he ends up nearby through proximity to her protector.<br /><br />"Whoa," the sage deflects a blow-- returning what looks like small laser beams from his fingers-- held like pistols as he goes, "Pew Pew." Western-Paulo. Take that, programs.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron watches as the first troups are easily taken down by the front row attacks. She looks over to Paulo and Faruja, nodding to them "... Was that all of them you think?" She hopes it won't get any worse than that at least. She has a mind to check on the downed soliders too, not wanting anyone to die either, wether they are programs or users. Although she doesn't know what a 'user' is either. "... We probably should leave before more arrive, we probably made alot of noise and that will attract more of them."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira made a promise that Maira wouldn't get hurt by these! That means, of course, getting in the way of the guys that come to fight her, even if her weapon doesn't seem to do much on first pass. She grunts angrily at the jolt and sidesteps around Maira, keeping her back to the fire mage. Avira makes sure she remains as a tiny wall against the incoming guards. <br /><br />Programs exploding into voxels...well, it's not something Avira's seen before like this. She's seen damage done to Deelel, but it's always been very little. Not complete destruction! She doesn't let this bother her at the moment and remains focused. <br /><br />"This is bad, we need to get out of this warehouse or we're going to stay trapped here." A battle of attrition did not look good. She continues her close quarters combat with that one guard, stepping forward and jabbing multiple times.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON rips the staff out of a heavy Blackguard's hands and twirls it, blocking a Disc or two that flies his way. He sweeps the staff low, twisting to face the incoming reinforcements-- <br /><br />A Disc clips the side of one knee, barely scratching the black surface but a noticeable blue voxelization appearing in its wake. It's not much, but it does hobble him. <br /><br />He drops the staff for the moment and removes his Black Disc, tensing noticeably as Arthur's light washes over him. He can feel the effects strengthening him, and wastes no time in throwing both Discs at the incoming enemy in a constant rhythm of throw-bounce-return-repeat. In-between Disc throws, he catches spare batons from Beck and tosses them further back to the others. <"Grab one, get ready to uze it!"> He doesn't keep one for himself, as he already has one at his hip.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi grabs one of those baton-- things. You know who is a BA sage? This guy right here. He throw it on the ground and says, "Superbot, Activate!" Just kidding. Not cool, Paulo. Not cool. Nothing happens. He picks it back up admist the action, "Some assembly required, boss." Over his shoulder he points the hand-lasers and pew pews three more guards that come in.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Swiping red-gold hair hastily away from her face, Maira's eyes dart from friend to friend, making sure they were all alright before she settles on a course of aggressive action. She catches Paulo's look and nods, smiling. Yup, time for the mages to do some damage! <br /><br /> Though Arthur catches her attention next, and she remembers the pouch he'd tosses her. Aha! "If anyone finds an exit, I can help cover our escape!" she says then, stuffing the bag of gummies into her pocket for the time being, wanting to save them for when they will be most useful (as much as she wants to see what they do NOW). <br /><br /> Maira watches Faruja and Avira closely, shouting a quick "Down! Incoming!" to warn them that she is going to start slinging spells. Maira raises her hands, which quickly ignite, sheathed in bright flame that is very real, heating the air around her for several feet. She throws one hand outward to direct her energy, closing her fist as a fire ball flies from her hand to sail toward the enemy forces.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel even with her experience in user space she's still surprised as she's been able too disable two of the black guards with east, she's grinning behind her faceplate it seems she truly has grown past her original purpose and that's just the final proof of it to her. She quickly snags the two downed guards batons and will toss them out to anyone who still has needed of them. <br /><br /> "Catch these are out tickets out of here. They form lightcycles, that we can get out of here on. I don't want to remain before they start being the really heavy firepower here. Just watch me." <br /><br /> Deelel is now effected by more magic an other powers sending her combat abilities much higher much to her surprise. <br /><br /> Deelel pulls the baton off of her leg and holds out she makes sure it's easy to see how she's activating the bite from the baton which forms in a wire frame about her fleshing out a fully forms current gen lightcycle. Most noticeable thing about the cycle is it almost seems Deelel is a part of the bike herself from how she's now formed almost into it. <br /><br /> "If you used a cycle in user space same basic set up the controls are the same. If you haven't?" <br /><br /> Deelel takes a moment to explain the basics of their operation and prays to her User they are enough for her friends. Her own machine revs it's engine. <br /><br /> "We shouldn't waste time, tanks and worse will be on the way at this rate."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck's own attacks came racing in. One of them got knocked right over, while several more were voxeled away. A few that attempted to defend themselves from the Renegade's attacks suddenly get blasted through by the backside by Blackbird.<br /><br /> A few them started to stagger back now. The programs they were facing (unaware that most of these were not programs at all!), were putting a hurt on their numbers. Faruja's own attack came in and several of them were able to defend themselves. Including also when Avira moved in as well. Then the laser beams from the Sage collide into several of them who were not ready for it and they get turned into voxels as well.<br /><br /> TRON then performed some nice feats of fancy getting a good deal of them corned and causing a few of them to actually head for the door as they try to defend themselves. Actually retreating! Which may be a good thing-- or a bad thing.<br /><br /> Maira's fire then clears out several more into nice voxels, while Deelel is able to knock out some guards and take their batons. As for the rest. They are running away.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja nods towards the others, frowning. "Agreed. So much as I appreciate a proper martrydom, time and place, Sers and Dames!" His head tilts. Paulo speaks. Wobble. <br /><br /> "'Tis not as hard as it initially seemed! One merely shifts their center of gravity just a touch..." Oh, wait, spells. FIRE! <br /><br /> Luckily, Faruja doesn't have to be told twice, that familiar non-friendly Maira heat on his back. Duck! <br /><br /> "Now, about that method of transportation? Oh dear /Faram/ why did I not bring Arista along?" Somehow he doubts summoning her would work well here. Nor does he seem to get the use of the batons! <br /><br /> Until Deel explains. Faruja turns to the group at large. "Human...or program in this case...technology is not my forte." Explains the rat quickly. Nope, he'll not be the driver tonight, Sers and Dames.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi watches Deelel-- taking note of the 'how' and 'why'. If nothing else, Paulo is a very quick study. "Got it," he says with a cocky grin-- looking over his shoulder to see more baddies coming. With a quick motion of his hand, digital wind kicks the baton to his hands. He runs forward-- leaping and kicking into a bike. There we go, there is the BA transformation he was looking for. It revs up right in front of Serah as he tells her, "Come with me, if you want to live," in his most masculine voice possible. Note: Still not very masculine. He is only 19. The engine revs.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Some people already called it right. They need to get out of here and Deelel was already going over some of the cycle basics. "If you don't know how to ride a bike. You can catch a ride with me." The Renegade says calmly as he then hooks his disc to his back and pulls out his own.<br /><br /> "Stay close to me and follow my lead. These guys have cycles as well and some far worse things." The Regenade then activates the cycle inside the arcade. He revs it a bit as he keeps his foot down on the ground. "..and is everyone alright?"<br /><br /> Now the question was.. tunnel.. or Outlands..<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Completely missing Faruja's reaction to his pyrotechnics, Eric grinned as he did a small mental dance of victory at seeing some of the things flee his fire... until he realized they were coming for the rest of them. He squeaked, about to cast a spell, but they were fleeing again as everyone else drove them off. He felt rather impotent, but at least they were all alive!<br /><br />He caught the baton and looked at it in open confusion, wondering why anyone thought it was a good idea to give a melee weapon to a Black Mage. And then Deelel said something about them being their ticket out of here and... woah! He gaped at the lightcycle, not entirely certain he could pilot something like that, as nothing like it existed in Gaia. He looked down at the batons.<br /><br />"Exactly how fast can these go?" he asked, rather unable to mask the boyish hopefulness in his voice. One of his favorite things he'd ever managed with his magic was zipping around in a kid's wagon on an aero when he was eight.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron picks up the 'baton', wondering what to do with it when its tossed her way.<br /><br />She even uses it to scratch the back of her head for a moment... but then Deelel does that little demonstration "... That's neat. I wonder if that'd work in our world too..." Well, if she can even bring the stick back with her, might be fnu to try. But for now...<br /><br />She holds the stick with her two hands, leaning forward slightly. The cycle materializes under her, forcing her into an even more prone position, and surrounding her with that sort of bubble protecting the driver, as she ends up sitting on top of it.<br /><br />"... Wow, that's incredible!" She exclaims from inside that bubble, looking around. She wobbles the stick a bit, and suddenly it rides off.<br /><br />She only has time to go ACK before she slams into a nearby post. She groans, the cycle disapearing and leaving her on the ground, on her knees. "Maybe I'm not good with driving..." She sighs, but puts the baton away in a pocket, as she looks up to Paulo's offer. She has a giggle, shaking her head "Cute, but let's go quickly." She slides up and behind Paulo quickly, ready to drive off.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird twisted around, still firing one handed while snagging a baton from mid-air. These guards were down and so she holdered her weapon and concentrated on the baton. "How does this work?" She shook it holding the thing like a sword handle.<br /><br />"HOW?!" Blackbird's mind spooled back to Deelel summining a bike. "Just throw it? Are there commands? Thought pattern? What?" She was shouting so she could be heard. In the middle of a battle and running for your lives was NOT the best time to suddenly be expected to know how to use New Thing.<br /><br />While she waited for a response she cast about with her healing magic focusing on TRON and Deelel. They were apparently natives here. Priority: Keep those two alive.<br /><br />And then Deelel gives a demonstration of how to USE the light cycle. Oohkay press button and throw. She remembered seeing Deelel do this before but now... Throw. She caught the handle bars right as the cycle formed around her. It felt like a full body glove actually. Shes ridden many bikes but this felt almost like she was laying down and gliding along the road. Pity she always wante a recumbant like off that one anime. oh well. <br /><br />All thought of being chased was momentarily cleared from her mind as she let out a joyous noise. "WOOHOOOHOOOO! YEEAA!" And away she went off to wherever Deelel was headed.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira gladly snags a baton. She's familiar with the light cycles-and by that she means she's had to fight Deelel while she was riding one in the arena a while ago. Carefully, she watches Deelel hold the baton so a light cycle is summoned in front of her. <br /><br />"I know how to ride a motorcycle. Mercade taught me." she announces, leaning over so the bike appears beneath her. "Maira, get on my bike and get those gummi grenades ready. If they chase us, I want you to bomb the crap out of them."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur takes hold of one of the batons. He waves the incomprehensible rod, taking time to inspect it before anyoner flies off. "Avira, this is highly experimental." He doffs his satchel and passes it over to the inventor. "Throw it and make sure you are far away. It was an early failure, I don't have two. A thing should be elegant and beautiful, even if it is a tool and even if it will die in its use." <br /> <br />This cryptic explanation passed, the synthesist waits to see if anyone is tagging along with him, and should they do so, he will take off. In any other circumstance, the old hunter rides alone - keeping to the rear with the surprises still in his last remaining pair of satchels.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira looks up as a baton comes flying in her general direction. Reactively she catches it in a hand still wreathed in flame, though she quickly extinguishes it before it can do any damage. She then looks to Deelel, watching the light cycle appear, her eyes widening in proportion to her grin, which becomes downright maniacal as she realizes what she holds in her hand. Girl has a serious need for speed. GLEE! <br /><br /> She has no real idea how to drive one of these things, but there is absolutely zero chance she isn't going to give it a try. Zero. <br /><br /> Maira mimics Deelel's motions and summons the light cycle around herself, accompanied with a slightly unnerving girlish giggle of utter excitement. "Avira! No way! I'm driving! Someone has to take Faruja Faruja, hop on and come with me!" she calls, reaching into her pocket then to pass Faruja the pouch Arthur had given her. "Okay, we're going last and we're gonna cover our escape, got it? Throw these behind us as we go! Trust me! Go go!" she calls to the others. <br /><br /> Assuming Faruja does indeed hop on, the two of them will wait for the others to all clear out before Maira peels out on the lightcycle. <br /><br /> There are only two modes Maira knows; Stop, and Hold-Onto-Your-Everything-Break-Neck-Speed. <br /><br /> She does the second one, bwee'ing in wild abandon! "BWEEEEE!!!"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira loops the sachel over her shoulder immediately. Only once she has it secured to her does she peek inside. There is a moment of pause as her eyes widen, "Oho, this will be /fun/ to deploy." she doesn't want to pass this object off to anyone else. <br /><br />Maira refuses her ride and Avira frowns. Oh well, if she was with Faruja, she'll be in good (human!) hands.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi revs one last time for effect. Have to have effect. Paulo promptly speeds off with the bike group with Serah in tow. It is kind of like that one game with a hero wielding a sword and princess wielding a bow. Only Paulo has a beard-- and cant use a sword very well. Its nothing like that, actually. Either way, the sage revs around-- banking left and right to test this things manueverability. "Yaaaaahhhooooo," he yells to the digital wind as he drives.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel still kinda shudders at all the voxels everywhere it's just well a mess in her point of view she's reving the engines and she smirks at the question. <br /><br /> "Fast enough, damn fast actually compared to say what your used to for a mount." <br /><br /> Deelel's machine revs she's ready to ride. Sure it's not as fast as her classic first gen bike but it's a heck of a lot harder to ID than that would be. Given there were a handful of them around on the grid when she was last here, now there might not be any of them left. <br /><br /> She revs her engines. <br /><br /> "The cycles do, lets chatter lets get going just follow us and have a little faith." <br /><br /> Deelel intends to ride guard given her better experience with lightcycles over her life. She's also mentally checking her friends. Everyone is okay more or less she does look over to Faruja for a moment. "Well my dear Dragoon lets see how you handle this if you want flight maybe we can provide for that later, but that will need lessons." <br /><br /> Maira, and Avira are all set up it's time to get rolling but she's not so up to date on the grid's layout. A lot could have changed while she was away. So she calls out to Beck. <br /><br /> "TRON, lead the way, boss."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alright, Eric, don't be a showoff. You don't have to prove your nez- manliness by pretending you know what you're doing when you clearly don't. You don't have to try the super-cool-awesome-looking-thing while being chased down by a pack of hunters. You don't have to- Maira was doing it. And Faru was riding.<br /><br />With a grin, Eric pushed the button, tossed the baton into the air... and squeaked in minor alarm as the lightcycle formed around him. Even more stupidly, once over the initial surprise of what happened to everyone else happening to him, he revs the engine to full throttle and goes peeling off in glee, "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!"<br /><br />..... Dead man driving...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja takes the pack of gummi grenades, holding on. The ex-rat peers at the light cycle suspiciously. "Oh Faram, this is one of those contraptions Lady Deel rides." Squint! A foot pokes the cycle. He turns to Maira. He watches that grin spread on her face. <br /><br /> Faruja hops on, distinctly silent for a moment. <br /><br /> Then, he speaks, the slightest nervous tremble to his voice. "...Now, Maira, please let us ride at a reasonable spe...EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" <br /><br /> Off into the sunset, Faruja holds onto bike and Maira for dear life. <br /><br /> Blink. Something catches his mind as he tries to distract himself from BREAK NECK MAIRA RIDE. He pulls out a voxel. Deel's voxel. Blink. He remembers those guards. "...D...Dear Faram this could be Deel's spleen." Yup, he's now thoroughly disturbed. He puts Deel Spleen Voxel back in his inventory.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The black form of TRON seems to glance over at the others if the helm-cant is of any indication, many of whom are getting the hang of using the Light Cycles. These particular designs look strange to him, but he's far more used to... well, /his/ Grid's Light Cycle. Pity it can't take passengers. Then again, as fast as it can get? <br /><br /><"Take whichever route you feel iz better for our group,"> he replies to Beck. He unclips his own baton--oddly just a plain glowing-blue cylinder compared to the more intricate batons of the others--and grasps it in both hands. He snaps forwards as the wire-frame of a completely-canopied Light Cycle forms around him, solidifying into a blue Light Cycle of much different (and older) make than the ones the others use. <br /><br /><"Once we get moving, I will zcout around and enzure we are not followed."> His voice is further distorted, as if speaking through a subpar speaker with a modulator. <"Renegade, lead on."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja is holding on for dear life alright! <br /><br /> "Uh, Faru!? Could you not hold onto to THOSE?" she calls back in mild alarm.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Aaand users are driving around. Beck glances over to TRON. There was a bit of a deadpan look behind the black full face visor. Man. Did they need to get a lasso? However TRON suggest to roll with it. So the Renegade TRON only nods his head.<br /><br /> He is thankful Deelel also called him by what his title is here and he gave a nod to TRON when he told him to lead on. Maybe some of these users will get it, or the first TRON will have to play rodeo with his much faster light bike. "..You know," He says to TRON as he revs his light cycle again. "..when we get to Argon-- you are going to snag a ton of attention with that thing." He almost sounds playful. "..I know someone who be jealous of it too."<br /><br /> and then The Renegade is off, to lead the charge to the Tunnel! It should be a nice one way shot into the backside of Argon and much closer to Purgos and hopefully Tesler isn't-- waiting or.. something.<br /><br /> Fraggin' Tesler.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>At Maira's shout, Eric shouted above the digital wind, "Dear Lord Faru, is now really the time to be groping your girlfriend???" before breaking off into peals of squeaky laughter as he zoomed on ahead.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The tunnel was long and forces were indeed waiting. Thankfully TRON and the others had methods of handling the troops and they kept on moving through. However the tunnel had collapsed in one section and Beck had to find another way through the old tunnel system. They eventually did make it into outlining every of Purgos and right into the old city sector.<br /><br /> Most everyone got ignored, at least at first. Though some started to scatter when they saw the Renegade. Others wondered why there was so many, till they saw the Renegade as well. By the end, the street was nearly vacant, beyond a few who still remained and those few only watched on.<br /><br /> Up high on buildings were billboards and those billboards explained it all.<br /><br /> The Renegade.<br /> Wanted dead or alive.<br /> Assassin program. <br /> Approach with Caution.<br /><br /> Now it was the question if they could get the discs they needed...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja's nose bleeds, and his entire face is beat red. Hands go on the /waist/ now. "Erm...my deepest apologies! Merely...grasped for the most, ahem, convenient and graspab...shutting up now, my dear!" Poor thing sounds honestly embarrassed. Then Eric speaks. <br /><br /> "SHE IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, MERELY A DEAR FRIEND! BESIDES, HATI'S ARE..." Pause. He clams up. Noope, not finishing that one. No need to dig his hole further! <br /><br /> As they pass by those troops? Cue the occasional gummi grenade. Faruja grins. "My, my, my, I shall have to acquire a few of these..." Someone is impressed. <br /><br /> Then, they're in Purgos. Faruja peers about. "My, my, my. 'Tis...beautiful, in its own right." Mutters the rat upon seeing so many large, tall buildings, somewhat reminding him of manhattan. Only glowy!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Riding alongside Faru and Maira-- a rogue Paulo head turns to witness Faru's blight, "Suuuuuuuuuuuuurrr," he goes on-- which should end with a 'rrreeee' but his engine revs at that moment. Despite not being a real tech guy-- Paulo handles the bike very well. Reading the wind and adjusting quickly suits this method of transport. It is a lot like flying or floating at fast speeds. The bike sways with Serah on it as he makes it a fun ride. Sure, they might get obliterated at any moment, but at least he will have had a good time.<br /><br />"Man. He wasn't kidding about being wanted," serious-Paulo notes seriously about the sign. Just who is this Beck? Why is he wanted? What did he eat for dinner?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Despite having never driven a light cycle before, she manages not only not to crash and kill them both, but to actually maneuver around obstacles. AND she finds the breaks. She hits them as the others ahead of her do, though she didn't slow down much first, thus turning the bike to the side to drift it sideways until it comes to a stop, as if she were an action movie star. <br /><br /> Maira dismisses the bike and begins bouncing around like a crazy person. "THAT WAS AWESOME!" <br /><br /> She spots the billboard then and quiets down, looking around sheepishly as she winces an apology. "Ehe....sorry..." <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Faruja, blinking. "Hati's are /what/?" she asks. The end of that better not have been 'better!'<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The Renegade pulled in and grunted a little at the craziness that was the tunnel and in some ways, thankful for the others help. As the people started to scatter, it was a harsh reminder of the truth. The truth of what lies were created about him. Either by CLU-- or by someone who left a mark on him.<br /><br /> "..This may be trickier then.." he mutters to himself, but doesn't continue. Looking back at the others. The Renegade then responds to Faruja, "..Purgos is one of the older cities. It use to be Argon proper.. really, until Argon became larger and sprawled out from it. Now it is a sector of Argon city that-- lower, more.. unable programs come too.. Because of that. There is a rather large black market here.. and not the best of people."<br /><br /> Then to Maira, "..Its ok. There is a long story behind it.. but no real time to explain right now."<br /><br /> The Renegade looked then over to Paulo, "..and no. I wasn't kidding." Then Beck dismounted from the bike, allowing it to return into the baton, before attaching it to his hip. "Just trying and keep a low profile for a bit. I need to go find someone who may be able to help us out."<br /><br /> Renegade then looks at TRON, "..You think you can keep an eye on them while I go see what I can do." He then does a quick head count. "It shouldn't take me to long. They are not far from here." He places out his hand to TRON. "..and thanks.. by the way.."<br /><br /> The white suited program then backs away from the others before he then takes off into the allies.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel was thinking this was one of those cycles and she totally agrees with the idea of getting a lasso a user roundup may be needed. She's going to have a mental image of Tron and Beck with cowboy hats for a while at this point. She speaks up at the mention of Argon. <br /><br /> "I'm not going to like the state of Argon ... am I?" <br /><br /> Even distorted one can hear the sadness in her voice, it's her home and she has no idea what's happened. She ignores the comments between Eric and Faruja, oh she so totally does. Also they are heading to the tunnel thankfully they are able to get through with no fatalities and it takes a while for them to get through but she can't help but look, damn Beck really has made an impression here. She also thinks Faruja is digging himself so darn deep today at this point. <br /><br /> "It's ... home. This is the world I spoke to you of Faruja. Do you see now why only seeing it would do it any justice. It's the same for your world really. They don't like TRON, what can I say they are pulling a grand old SARK and MCP to be sure. As for where we're going we should be able to get what we need to help with our little problem. Her bike returns to the baton from which it came. It snaps back on to her leg as she gets moving with the group. <br /><br /> "Insert foot A into Mouth Port B, Faruja?" <br /><br /> She can't help but take this chance to poke at him. She meanwhile looks about doing head count, to make sure no one got lost.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird has spent years around bikes. She is familiar with their operation and how to Not Die while riding one. Yet eventually the trip ends and she manages, somehow, to cause her bike to collapse back into a baton... which she hides in an inside pocket of her coat.. Then... Deelel spoke. TRON... SARK MCP. These names are Strange... yet hold a ring of familiarness to her. TRON was also Bradly's nickname when Flynn was around. Sark... Sark was't that from one of the games Flynn made? MCP.<br /><br />!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />She... wait. "This... We're in..." She tried speaking, articulate hat had jolted through her brain. "Master Control Program, as in what was running the Encom mainframe and primary network right before Flynn took over?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON drives the Light Cycle expertly, lagging more towards the back to assist Maira and Faruja with keeping the enemy at bay. Usually by using his bike's Jet Walls to herd the enemy into the Gummi Grenades. Turned out to be relatively effective, all things considered, but TRON feels a strange wobble in the front end that has only gotten worse since they've left the Arcade. It seems the damage suffered from past usage is affecting such things as handling. <br /><br />When they arrive in Purgos, he notices the billboards alright, the sheer number of them reflecting off of the canopy of his Light Cycle. But there is always a story, a matter of perception and perspective... and he feels like he's /missing/ something. Like he should know but simply... doesn't. <br /><br />Right. The Other. Must be some strange feedback or something. <br /><br />The blue old-style Light Cycle, predating anything on /this/ Grid if the assortment of modern-day Light Cycles in their convoy is of any indication, grabs a lot of attention by itself. Most don't even know what it is, but if the rider is with the convoy, they don't want to get anywhere close. It just proves that they're way too conspicuous out in the open like this. <br /><br />His Light Cycle dissipates and he lands on the ground with practiced ease, looking around with neither his stance nor his visor giving any indication of his thoughts nor identity. He only gives Beck a quick handshake before the Renegade runs off, then he motions to everyone else. <"Let'z ztick together and get out of the ztreet."> <br /><br />To Blackbird, he simply shakes his head. <"Negative. That iz..."> His voice trails off for a moment, then back as if nothing had happened. <"That iz another matter entirely. But there iz no time to explain now."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur angles the bike well. He's ridden a bucking chocobo. This is much smoother. He doesn't have any way to communicate with the other pairs - instead beaming along solo. Then they are coming to a stop. He manages, by sheer accident, a bootlegger's turn. Appropriate for a man who spent some of his younger days selling snake oil out of a caravan. The smith's feet find the ground and he immediately stows the rod in the band of his belt, where a sword would go. But he carries no sword. <br /> <br />The forgemaster takes small chips of light out of his pocket. Once this was a powder, now it seems to have digitally congealed. As the others come to a stop, presumably to reconnoiter, Mr. Drover begins planting the chips in a wide circle, like a druid's ritual of warding or a magician's conjuring trick. He does not appear to be attentive. He is counting under his breath, measuring his steps. Something like string is drawn from his pack, once it was a loop of fire imp hair, now it is something else- shimmering like fresh-laid solder. His archer's gloves, made glowing by the reality of this place, handle it well. He loops it around a few of the little pips. The entire thing does not take long. It is much like a hunter setting snares - because it is. <br /> <br />"Miss, my sympathies. Ye'll have to come to the forge for a drink when this is over. You know this world. You give me an order and I'll follow it, and I know that goes double for my young charges." Here he points at Paulo, Avira, Maira, voice somewhat harsher. <br /> <br />"No time for big questions - but perhaps a little one, what is our route of escape? For that matter, how'd we get in here?" <br /> <br />He's peeking into bins, behind buildings in bad repair, never going an inch out of view of the group, but he speaks amid constant movement. This is a habit his "forge buddies" would be familiar with. <br /> <br />When Tron says no time to explain, the older man's ears perk, and he turns, all attention and keenness. <br /> <br />But a few gold colored chips are thrown down one corridor, where they stick to the ground and erect sharp points. No civilians around, time to use the nasty tools.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Admittedly, Eric never found the brakes, but a good wind spell would do whenever he needed it! Or whenever he needed to blast some red-lines away! He shared Paulo's reaction of 'suuuuuuuuuuuure!' to Faruja's embarassment, the sage and black mage practically in-sync. Yup, totally liking this kid. As Eric rolled to a stop, a gale abated, whipping up what little might be whipped up in this strange world. As the light cycle vanished, he darted up to Maira squealing, "I KNOW, RIGHT?!!!"<br /><br />As his fellow ex-nezu dug his hole deeper, he couldn't help but chuckle, "Ohohoho, so Ser Senra has 'hotties' on the side?"<br /><br />Okay, yeah, he totally didn't get that that was a name, but he was still pulling the Templar's leg. Faru made it too easy!<br /><br />As Eric looked around at the billboards, however, his mood changed entirely.<br /><br />"Oh my..." he squeaked. He'd rather depleted his magic with all the saves he had to pull on himself to prevent a crash - he wasn't sure how much use he would be now.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron held on to Paulo throughout the ride, also marvelling at the speed and sights of the virtual city around them. Its quite beautiful. Her arms are tightly linked around Paulo's sides, not wanting to be knocked out or slip out by accident. At this speed, it'd be dangerous. "Its remarkably stable at this speed." She notes to him or noone in particular really.<br /><br />She hops off the cycle on arrival, smoothing her skirt down a bit after the ride "Is the exit here, or did we just go even deeper into danger?" She wonders. She thrusts TRON knowing more than she does at least, but it doesn't make it any less worrisome when you end up in the middle of 'enemy territory' like that...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Looks like Avira never got the chance to use the toy Arthur gave her moments before. Avira's actually alright with that meaning she gets to save it for later. She'll save that bike for later too, even if she can't use it in the real world. <br /><br />Assuming they all get back to the real world at some point. Right now, though, it seems like they're a little stuck. <br /><br />"Low profile. Right. Got it." Avira's steps are swift and every now and then she looks over at Maira who was no doubt acting a little crazy right now. <br /><br />"So I'm hoping you can answer now that a little of the heat is off." Avira speaks up, directing her words to Beck. "What do you mean by 'Strays'?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi observes to Serah, "My sage-like senses tell me-- deeper into rabbit hole." Or is it chocobo's nest? There is a nod that is given to Beck-- he didn't doubt the program it is just that this all seems too surreal. So surreal that he might as well take everything literal. He adds in with the informational pow wow as he tries to keep a low profile in his extravagent robes-- "I am also curious. Just the name itself-- an unwanted creature. In a place this structured... I get it things won't end well if we get captured. So-- another thought. Where is 'out' exactly? I'll defer to friends as to where we are going, but I'd like to know a bit about our escape plans here. Even mountains fade to enough wind."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja opens his muzzle, and it just hangs there. The Templar's head just /hangs/ as that question sits in the air. He feels about five inches tall. Eric and Deel don't help. Make that two inches. <br /><br /> "...Hati has the form of a sleek dancer, slim and lithe, and powerful! Wild and strong! /You/, my dear, have the form of an actress: fetching, lovely, and with a natural warmth and comfort that makes thy hugs pleasant and enjoyable! Both of you are utterly beautiful, and frankly 'tis a wonder these male Programs are not bowing down before thy beauty!" Save! <br /><br /> Faruja nods to TRON. "Mmm, the poor quarter then." Ex-rat tank go? He stays in front of Maira protectively, single eye peering about as he listens to the others.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird frowned and scuffed a toe at the not-ground. The supposition FIT. THey looked in a very VERY space-paranoids like world. The Laser looked a lot like the SHIVA ENCOM was experimenting with way back about the sametime. And now The three initials of a thing ENCOM didn't really speak about much given at the time there were accusations of unauthorized networking into SAC and other even worse things. She didn't believe half of it but she knew a Master Program that was sortof a super traffic cop DID exist at one point right before... Her brow furrowed and she wans't quite sure where she was. After all she had to dig deep for all this old obscure info she only lerned about from refurbishing a bunch of the old mainframes kept in the boneyard. Funny. Flynn's desk had gone missing awhile back. Well mroe desk sized minicomp similar to the one that was back at the arcade. No that wans't this it just happened to be a popular formfactor..<br /><br />"Low Profile. Nothing ofrigins." Blackbird was a sortof distracted monotone at this point. "No magic, or at least nothing flashy." Slow nod. "I hear you." No she didn't. She was trying to make sure two plus two didn't end up equelling Fish.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira has always wanted to ride a light cycle. Well, for as long as she's known about them. So...well, months. STILL! It was really awesome. <br /><br /> Maira grins to Eric, even though he's being kind of a butthead, then grows more sober. She walks over to Deelel and places a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, watching Beck as he moves off to try to help them out. Yes, they are terribly conspicuous. <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Faruja, and facepalms, turning red. "Okay okay Faruja, I get it I get it..." she grumbles, punching him quite lightly in the arm before she wanders over toward Arthur, watching him curiously. "Whatcha doing?" she asks, head canted to the side slightly in question, hands clasping behind her back.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi heard 'No flashy magic' somewhere in there. Did it register? Maybe. Maayyyybeeee.<br /><br />The young man looks back to Faru and gives him a hearty slap on the square of his back, "Relax. Low profile. Like... ninja. Or a treasure hunter. Moreso a ninja." Ninja.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel thinks the idea of getting off the street is a good one, and Faruja's suffering continues to suffer eternally from the rest of the party she can't help but be amused with it. She tilts her head to Serah for a moment. <br /><br /> "Not really we got a chance to make our lives easier..." <br /><br /> The mention of Strays by AVIRA get her looking at her. She's going to let someone else field that, who know the subject better. It's not a present thing to think about really, also an old nightmare comes up. The faded memory of seeing friends here being experimented upon by a mad version of herself was something hard to forget. <br /><br /> "You are correct Paulo." <br /><br /> She looks back to Faruja for a moment and she laughs at Faruja's attempt to get himself out of trouble. <br /><br /> "So what does that make me hummmm?" <br /><br /> She looks to Blackbird for a moment and nods. She's sizing up the situation things go through her mind like her home is it still there? Or has it been idled out and re-purposed for something else? She'll have to go check later there could be supplies there, failing that it be a place to hide out. Also she'd have to check the grimmest thing on her mind. Is anyone she cares about still alive or did they all get cubed? No first focus on the living if Cel and the others are all right currently they should be able to wait a few cycles longer. She keeps an watchful eye on on the rest of the group and hopefully they can find what they seek. A way to either get them light suits and hopefully find fake or if they are lucky real discs for them.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and resting the flat of one foot against the surface. He watches Arthur secure their location with traps and such, but doesn't relax despite that, still keenly looking around just in case. <br /><br /><"I believe, Avira..."> He hestitates, relying on the data he has. <"CHIEF once told me that Programz advanced to the point where they muzt have a Dizc in order to hold all their data."> He motions towards assorted Purgos Programs hanging around. <"Thuz, if zuch a Program iz zeperated from their Dizc, they zoon forget who they are and what their function iz. Thuz, they become a 'Ztray' until they are reprogrammed with a new purpoze."> <br /><br />He takes his Silver Disc off of his back and idly twirls it between his fingers again. The lines on it are glowing and it hums ominously. <"Doez that make zenze?"> <br /><br />He cants his helm briefly to the others. <"Az for an ezcape route... I do believe that iz what the Renegade iz looking into. It zeemz we are zafe for the time being."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck had a rough road to hoe. Most of the Sirens here didn't even want to deal with him. Most of his connections had dried up thanks to CLU's forces and Tesler's actives while he had been gone. Some even went as far to tell him that he abandoned them.<br /><br /> However, Beck would get his chance at last, including bring the Siren slowly to the group.<br /><br /> As for the others. They got a rather quiet, uneventful time. Beyond a few people who lurked and watched. It seemed none of the guards were coming and the people were to frightened to get near the group who was associated with the Renegade.<br /><br /> Yet. Slowly Beck would return with a female in high heels, silver short hair, blue glowing eyes, and a white skin tight suit, that was almost silver in color with bright white lines over her body. She glances at the ground, before looking to the Renegade, then to them. "...there is so many of you.. you poor things.." She then steps forward before placing out her hand. "My name is Aurora. Please come with me." Her hand then returns to her side, before she walks past the Renegade and back into the shadows of the alley with only her light lines giving away her location.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja taps his chin after rubbing his arm, now quite satisfied at /not/ getting slapped. See, he's not Ivo! Paulo speaks, and the rat wobbles. <br /><br /> "...Stealth hath never been my forte. I prefer charging into the battle of love and beauty!" <br /><br /> He leans into Deel. Whisper whisper. "Athletic, stalwart, and a most determined figure!" Pause. Peer. "Graceful, yet warm...Mmm. A Cleyran dancer, were thee a nezumi!" <br /><br /> Then, they're off, and Beck comes back with a Lady. All the techno-talk goes over his head. He bows. "M'Lady." Follow the Lady in white!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird bowed to Aurora but said nothing. She hand't really been paying attention to what was going on, but this lady seemed friendly enough and this is wehre they were headed. Plus if it was a trap assumptions of her harmlessness would be vastly innacurate.. "Uh Deelel, Tron... Miss Aurora, Is there like a data cube or book or something i can sift through?" She smiled softly, "Memory's a bit fuzzy and always good to keep a copy of what's what on hand. Don't want to go blank when something important gets brought up."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi follows Beck but shares Faru's love of dramatics. "When we get out of here-- we need to train together and come up with a combo. Like-- fiery lancer stab of love and justice. Or something smaller-- like Holy Prism Lance." Chin rub. Then he motions to Maira, "We improv'd one once. That was hot." Literally, hot. Like a supernova. Poor Horned King.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck does return with a Siren, but the Renegade remains quiet. He waits for everyone to go ahead, before he checks their backs to make sure they wont be followed. He already warned her this would become a normal ordeal. People coming in probably now.<br /><br /> So the Siren would need to stay clean and help those who would come to her. She seemed ok with this and he was thankful that she still believed in what he was trying to do.<br /><br /> So once everyone goes. Beck will follow.<br /><br /> <span class=" bold_fg_w bg_n ++ hw">CONGRATULATIONS!!</span> <br /><br /> You all obtain a identity disc and new light suit cloths!<br /><br /> Now you can look like a program and walk around with your identity discs! It even comes with fancy program handles if you so want one. Huzzah!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira laughs softly at Faruja and Paulo, nodding. "Yes, we did. That was pretty great!" she agrees before turning her attention to the approaching program. She curtsies. In jeans. Whatever. "Nice to meet you Aurora, I'm Maira...um, okay," she says, then would follow, shrugging lightly<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron notices that the new program, Aurora, is a girl. Well, its not surprising in itself, she knows about Deelel after all. But seeing TRON and Aurora like that makes her wonder if genders really matter in this world, like in her world...<br /><br />Not that she wants to ask... That'd be rude.<br /><br />She sighs at her own curiosity, but follows in stride "Are we really safe here though... I'm worried..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel she notices the Siren, Beck has found, this is stroke of luck, they get hopefully get legit discs from this. She knows it may cost a good bit but she's willing to pay. Given you can't put a price tag on helping to keep your friends heads intact, right? Faruja's comments get a grin behind her face plate as she's leaned into by Faruja nad he makes her compliment. She seems in a good mood as she shuffles after the groups. The Siren gets a look over for a short moment. <br /><br /> "I am in your debt Aurora." <br /><br /> She's relaxing now and just looking about the place and the others a she tilts her head. <br /><br /> "Even before I got lost? This was not a spot that security liked to go if it didn't have to. It's the bad part of town more or less." <br /><br /> her helmet snaps back from where it came as did her cloak, she just kinda flops down. <br /><br /> "As for energy I'll see about getting us some tanks of it, it should be easy enough."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur spends some time receiving explanations, but sleep and family are calling him away, so with brief parting, and an explanation to the others about the traps laid out - he meanders homeward - there's much to be done tomorrow.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Welcome_To_The_Grid Welcome To The Grid 2013-08-08T17:45:59Z

<p>Megkitty87: Name-change Eric so it links properly</p> <hr /> <div>{{Log Header<br /> |Date of Scene=2013/08/07<br /> |Location=Manhattan Flynn's Arcade and Flynn OS<br /> |Synopsis=After weeks of work, Beck has finally repaired the laser. However something goes horribly wrong. The moment the laser is powered, it starts digitizing every single person in the room. At long last the programs have returned home however? Can they get their user friends out alive?!<br /> |Cast of Characters=Faruja Senra, Avira, Deelel, Maira, TRON, Blackbird, Oblivion, Serah Farron, Beck, Paulo Mysidi, Eric Bartholomew, Arthur Drover<br /> |pretty=yes<br /> }}<br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The progress had taken a lot longer then Beck was hoping it would take. Figuring out what was known as 'user tech' wasn't easy for the young mechanic program, but he managed. He also had warned TRON there was a strong chance that things could still go badly once they now started up the finished laser and that he wasn't sure what would be waiting for them on the other side.<br /><br /> After all, last he was in the Grid, he was being chased by CLU's forces.. when that TRON... No. He wouldn't think on that further. It had been several cycles since he had left-- no-- longer then that and he was sure that Mara and Zed probably thought he too had died. With the death of Abel.. that... may be to much for his two friends to even handle.<br /><br /> "Come on.." He said softly as he tried to connect the last two wires in hopes to not get zapped. "..just a bit more.." the two wires flickered and sparked at contact, until he was able to get them to charge together so he then could wrap tape around them. "..There we go.."<br /><br /> Beck then carefully placed the laser up on the pedestal, hooking up the final cables, before giving it a quick check. He then walks over to the computer typing in a few command structures to make sure it was all reading correctly. Yeah. He watched how TRON did a few of the bad tests, so he got this rather memorized. When everything showed green, he then smiled brightly, before running up the steps, "Hey TRON! I got it!!"<br /><br /> That wasn't going to catch anyone's attention at all in the Arcade who hung around...<br /><br />******************************************************************************<br /><br /> Probably after some conversation with TRON and most likely those who were hanging around with Deelel and him. Mostly since by this point everyone who was in the Arcade were either friends or people chilling inside the 'closed' Arcade. Beck quickly started to make his way back down the steps in his own excitement, pausing at one step. "I am sure I got it this time. No blowing up fruit or anything." He says holding the apple in his hand. No. It wasn't an orange. Beck doesn't do oranges.<br /><br /> So as he goes down to move to the final step. He pauses there as he picks up an odd sound. He wasn't sure what it was, also there was something funky going on suddenly with the computer. "..oh sparkets!" He quickly turns the corner and suddenly he is staring at a laser. "...TR--" Its all Beck has time to get out till suddenly the laser snags him and does its thing.<br /><br />******************************************************************************<br /><br /> The laser now seeks for anyone who comes down the room. One by one or by two. The laser will get you!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>In today's case, Avira was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was friends with TRON and...well, sort of friends with Beck but as far as figuring out the computer stuff, Avira was only so-so. She'd used computers, even shopped for some, but hadn't been a programmer. Installing software was also kind of limited so her working on the laser was not a thing that happened. <br /><br />She did like coming in and playing the arcade games, though, which is why she was here today. Beck grabs her attention with his little announcement. Curious, she follows after him down the stairs into the 'secret' room she was privy to. Not far behind Beck, she is pretty much RIGHT THERE to see him get digitized by the laser. Already aware of it's purpose, Avira's quick to turn around and shout up the stairs. "DON'T COME DOWN HERE! THE LA-" <br /><br />Her words are cut off as she too disappears.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel has found out some of what was going on back home from Beck, something else from a dream had stuck with her haunting the back of her minds, yet? It was her home she has no idea truly how messed up it had become but it had been home and from her point of view she'd been gone a very long time. It hadn't taken Beck more than a few words to get her in on it. Going home one way or another was something that was long over due for her. <br /><br /> "We;; this is good news isn't it we got it up and running, you'd managed to get it working. As for fruit I think I tripped over one on the other OS once I wonder where it came... from?! Oh so not good!" <br /><br /> She had invited some of the people he?d known fairly well over her nearly year long time in the world of the users. She hadn't expected this to happen the laser gets Beck and rapidly takes him a part digitizing him. She's trying to run trying to warn some oft he others to get out but Deelel is caught shortly after. She seems to turn to a almost block like pattern of herself. Rapidly bit by bit the digitization laser takes Deelel apart and soon there's nothing there to show the world that Deelel save her voice fading away almost in a wail. <br /><br /> "Look out!!!" <br /><br /> Well she wanted to get home but not quite like this.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird took a deep breath. It's been the first time she's been back in the arcade since she's been IN the machines that were in the arcade. She looked around, touching the cabinates to familiar icons from her childhood. Then more exploring, a droped quarter and a trip past the tron machine later she's staring at an old terminal.<br /><br />She can tell it's been used. She knew her hardware and had worked on going through a lot of vintage stuff over the years. Touch interface in the glass, impressive uptime. As in impossibly fantastic uptime.<br /><br />Then suddenly LAZOR!<br /><br />"OK." She looked around once the sensation ended and she was somewhere else. "This... is not good." She was shaking trying to keep from going bonkers. "This is very not good. Big huge laser under the arcade. Big huge server." Deep breath. "Hello? Am I alone in crazyland?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira wasn't quite as into the video games as Avira was, but she did like to watch and hang out with her friends, TRON and Deelel. She was dressed in street clothes to fit in around Manhattan, not exactly expecting to get LASERED or anything. Manhattan was one of the few places now that she felt pretty darn safe, especially with Avira beside her. <br /><br /> Whech Beck calls from the basement about something or other working, Maira sets down what she was doing (knitting) and scrambles after Avira. "Hey what's going--GAH!" she exclaims, as she is then zapped. Well, she knows what this means! <br /><br /> Then she wonders if there will be cake.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja is here with friend and fellow Shard Seeker Deelel! He's honestly curious about the Program's world, and wouldn't miss an opportunity to see what it's all about for anything. Besides, a distraction from his recent troubles would do him well! It helps that he has other friends too, some he hasn't seen in a while at that. <br /><br /> Ear-perk. Two voices, one familiar and the other not, has the Templar performing the thing that many people adverse to long term survival doing; running towards the shouting. Spear and all, glowing, the Burmecian calls out. "Ser! Deel!" Leap! Down the stairs! <br /><br /> "By the Lord, what is the...oh bloody he..." Squeak! <br /><br /> Digitizer uses Hyper Beam on Temple Rattatta. It's super effective.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON had tested the laser a few days ago in his haste to help deal with the Space Paranoids incident. This was even after Beck had warned him of possible things going wrong--and that was only to the Wise OS in order to jump into Game Central Station through the portal outside of the End of Line Club. Turns out all was well and everyone went in and got back out alright, but Beck had wanted to do more calibrations to make sure of it. <br /><br />So when Beck emerges from the basement and explains that all is well and the laser is fully operational, TRON doesn't think anything of it. It's when Beck goes back downstairs that things start going wrong. Various cut-off exclaimations pulls his attention back in that direction as people start heading downstairs, and the Security Program moves as well. <br /><br />"Wait!" He calls as he jumps down the stairs-- <br /><br />--Only to be blinded by a bright flash of light and feeling that gut-wrenching sensation of being digitized, a feeling he knows far too well. But where are they /going/?!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Forgemaster Drover is into any kind of machinery or technology. He'd met Maira previously, and was generally known to Deelel as well. His capacity for artifice and understanding of what he'd call "systems design" is well enough known. So the arcade has drawn him in the day before, and for the Sugar Rush Race on a prior occasion. Today though, as he perused the frontroom, the synthesist had spotted this back room's door. Less likely to heed a "keep out" sign with the flashy gadgets around, he stole inside. Glowing lights, a panel or two. Interesting enough. His fingers were just running over a likely-looking bit of machinery, instinctual knowledge in the older man sparking first assessments, when light blotted out his world. <br /> <br />He had seen others around, but honestly with a piece of 'tech in the room, Arthur has eyes for little else. <br /> <br />When the smoke - and mirrors - clear, he's running his hands over his torso to check that it is still there. It is not. <br /> <br />Or rather, his satchel, equipment, items - represented but not the same. His clothes are glowing around the sleeves. Gaudy but secondary to the larger problem. "That was quite a thing." He assesses his surroundings with a trapper's trained eye. <br /> <br />Routes of egress and access. In his younger days, he was renowned as a monster hunter, now he's renowned for never running. Arthur leans against the nearest safe thing he can find to lean against, and tries to take it in and get his breathing under control.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron heard the commotion going from the arcade. Deelel, which she had found to be around along with recent events in the Game world. She spent some time playing with the machines too, a bit impressed with some of the games. She spent a bit of time on the Sugar Rush racing game too, since she actually inside of it before. She figure that maybe she can train with it where she won't get deleted if she messes up at least.<br /><br />But then there's shouts coming from the back room. It gets her curious, and a bit worried... and noone actually seems to finish their sentences for some reason. Maybe they are unconcious, and need healing? Well, let's go take a l-<br /><br />LAZER!!!!<br /><br />-.-<br /><br />She should have known better. She really doesn't understand much about these digital worlds, even ifs he has the feeling she's been here before. A pink haired girl, that might fit more in the aforementionned candy land game, now part of the digital world. At least she didn't trip her way in like some of the others, fortunatly enough. No rat pancake under her relatively light weight at least, but she does offer him a hand up "You have any idea what's going on here?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric was distracting himself by inspecting the artwork on an arcade machine - /How delightfully colorful!/ he thought secretly to himself - when suddenly a familiar shout rang out.<br /><br />"Ser Senra???" the Burmecian nobleman said, nervously walking towards the source of the sudden commotion. Yes, he had heard various other shouts, but he'd not thought much of it until Faruja's. He hadn't known the Templar long, but he didn't seem one prone to exclamations without reason (that weren't some religious speech, at least). He started walking at a brisker pace now, as more people sounded like they were disappearing.<br /><br />"Ser Senra, if this is a practical joke then I must say for a Templar you have rather a rather interesting and tricky group of friends!"<br /><br />Eric rather liked practical jokes - mostly playing them - but he didn't like being the victim of one involving fright. When he reached the doorway to the room, he gave pause, then inquired, "Ser Senra?"<br /><br />He hesitated a moment, then went down, looked around, and managed to say, "Ser Senra, this really isn't-" ZAP!<br /><br />He gave an awkward squawk of alarm as he found himself suddenly elsewhere, but suddenly noticed he had extra digits and no claws and no- "WHERE'S MY TAIL?!!!"<br /><br />No, Eric was not in the top percentage of rattatas, so to speak<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi has been there during the whole laser. Really that device itself interested him-- as well as having conversations with both Deelel and Beck about technology. Although the sage from a vastly different culture does not understand all of the specifics-- he is gradually understanding the concepts. Frequently he is writing notes in that large book of his. Irony as it is-- he doesn't even notice the laser-ing due to him writting. Even during the entire process he continues to scribble away-- possibly one of the few not to get the immediate shock effect. That comes after his head raises from the book.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck is spat out of the laser and goes crashing across the Arcade floor that was a copy of its real life safe. He slides a bit, before rolling to a stop against one of the equipment cases. He places his hand down against the black floor, before slowly lifting himself up. His hazel brown eyes glance around, before he stands up. The he sees the next person get popped out-- then the next-- then the next. They kinda keep coming really.<br /><br /> By this point Beck is just kinda standing there with his mouth slightly open before he clamps it shut. Once he believes everyone is out, he reaches back behind him and looks at his disc. Then-- all the people here who don't even /have/ discs. How does that work?<br /><br /> Along with the fact a few seemed like they were probably freaking out. While others seemed rather calm. This-- was going to be a fun cycle.<br /><br /> "..Great.. I guess.. that means will have to go to Purgos.." He then glances out the frosty window for a moment. "..and we are in TRON city.." He voice holds some concern. This could be a problem with this many people. He then takes his disc and flips it around before he connects a white site with his own.<br /><br /> "Ok. Everyone. Listen up. First off, you guys OK?" Beck asks before he twirls his own disc for a moment. "Secondly, whatever you do. If you see anyone in red, you may as well classify yourself as dead." He then connects the disc to his backside. His light suit which was black starts to voxel up to white before it covers his entire body. White lines flash against the suit, before a blue T suddenly forms on his chest.<br /><br /> He looks like he is wearing the exact same suit as another program here. Then a helm slides up, before a black visor then slides down covering his face completely. "Third.. don't call me Beck here." He looks over at TRON. "..Its TRON." He almost said that with some sadness in his voice really before he turned away from everyone. "..or as CLU's forces like to put it. The Renegade. If you try to call me by my name. I will ignore you, I will only acknowledge you if you call me TRON."<br /><br /> The Renegade then lowers his head as he sees a light suddenly move through the frost windows. "..and about that see red your dead. You may be seeing allot of red soon." He then reaches for his disc, before it flicks on. "..because you see... to them.. most of you are what we called Strays. Strays get put into the games. You /don't/ want to be in the games."<br /><br /> "Now ready yourselves!"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird looked over at Serah and quirked an eyebrow at the suit. She herself was wearing hrer motercycle leathers thankyouverymuch! "Welcome to..." She gestured expansivly at the inside of the recieving area where lazored things go, "Wherever this place is!" Then a helpless shrug and look around. Curious guy with one eye, Other people. <br /><br />"Hm." More loking around. "Uh huh I don't see a terminal or laser on this end so I kinda don't think standing around will get us back." Calm voice, or at least attempt at calm voice. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted the teal glow line along her pant legs and more faint lines along her outer sleeves.<br /><br />Then she spotted TRON and blinked. Blink. Blinkblinkblink. STARE. "I... thought you were one of the game sprites. Sorry?" She shuffled about. Then coughed. "Uh... anyone know where we are?" Lame question, unsure voice.<br /><br />Then Beck er... Tron. She looked from Tron to... uh... Tron and frowned. "Games? Strays?" This is mah clueless face.<br /><br />She shrugged and looked to Beck. "Well you're the tour guide. Lead on."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi doesnt realize he is even digitized until he raises his head. "What the..." Fill in the blank. Well at least he looks about the same. Roughly. The gold on his robes are now a nice hue of blue-- otherwise he is still a robey sort of fellah. "Never a dull moment," replies the young man-- closing his book. He smiles-- putting it away. Being seconds from 'dead' seems fairly common lately. It loses its sting until it happens!<br /><br />"So... can't we just leave?" wonders the sage as he tilts his head. Mostly this question goes to Deelel.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Ow. Faruja grumbles, clanking and making several distressed noises. Which only redoubles as Sarah lands on him. Luckily, she's rather light. "...Good 'eve Lady Sarah." Seems he's acted as a cushion for the woman before. <br /><br /> And our dear noble friend Ser Eric is freaking out. Admittedly, the place is a bit odd, but not /too/ bad. His armor and clothes are mostly the same, though amidst the green of his robes there's lines of green. A bit hard to see, if it weren't for the glowing. <br /><br /> Then, Faruja Senra tries to stand. Up! <br /><br /> "Dear Lord, Ser Bartholomew! Will you very kindly cease making a rack...OH DEAR FARAM WHERE IS MY TAIL!?!?" <br /><br /> Tumble, thud! The rat is no longer a rat, but a human. He's still missing his eye, and the bandages are there as well as the burn marks beneath. From the way things look, he's having more than a little trouble balancing, as he quite literally tumbles head-over-missing-tail. That cry of dismay does still sound a bit rattish. <br /><br /> "...Oh Faram preserve me, it turned me into a human." Faruja sounds positively /miserable/. At least an ear is perked towards Beck. Seems like he's listening. Hopefully Deel will fill them all in! <br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON digitizes in a spare space and drops to a crouch as soon as it's complete, the circuitry lines on his white bodysuit flaring to life. Immediately, a rush of data hits his processor--data from the Other, the original TRON. A memory of a beacon of light piercing the dark skies, heralding the arrival of-- <br /><br />He rises to his feet, voxels darkening to black as his pure black opaque helmet fully obscures his hair and face. Faint dots and dashes of bluish-white light are the only indication of his identity, and only if someone knows this certain form. <br /><br /><"There iz no time to try getting back to Uzerzpace."> His voice is completely modulated, not even a hint of his usual tones audible. <"They already know we are here. We need to go."> He nods over to the Renegade and unlocks his Silver Disc from his back--strange how that didn't change over as well. He still has a Black Disc on his back, though.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira likely bumps right into Avira after they are both digitalized and sent into Flynn OS. She is not freaking out because she has done this before. Sort of. Not this OS, but she figures it must be a similar situation at least. Why did those lasers seem to have minds of their own? Furthermore, why did every single one of them run down into the basement to get zapped!? Bunch of lemmings. <br /><br /> Maira steadies herself and looks around, frowning softly. Beck addresses them, and she listens. She'll go ahead and still assume water is lava, but hopefully fire is alright? "Guys in red? H-hey, we can defend ourselves you know..." she replies, looking around. She knows a great many people here and they are /tough/ <goosehonk>s. <br /><br /> Upon looking around, she then almost falls over in shock. "FARUJA!?" she asks, running over to help support him. He must have come in behind her, for she didn't see how injured he was. But first--"Faruja you're--you are--oh my goodness!" she says, then hugs him gently. "--And what /happened/ to you!?" she asks. <br /><br /> Maira then looks over to TRON, eyes widening. "What do you mean? Are we in trouble? Ugh..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira falls backwards as she reforms from the laser's blast, landing on her rear. Her heart falls as she sees person after person arrive after her. So much for following instructions. <br /><br />She pushes herself up to her feet, her usual clothing retaining the same shape but now a matte black, overshadowed by the white lines that seem to outline the various edges. "I'm fine." <br /><br />She looks to Beck, now TRON, tilting her head with confusion. The Renegade...ah yes, their first encounter. <br /><br />"What do you mean by Strays?" Avira questions sharply, arming herself with her weapon, the Spine. The Spine is just as glowy as the rest of her clothing here.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Wise OS had been close to home as was Game Central? Yet neither were quite right for the basic. She'd dreamed of home some times when her memory had been restored. Home came to her, she'd given her nature? Was able to look at her own memories in perfect detail yet? It was a memory it was not experiencing home once again. It was not fully logical, yet it well it was true in a way. She'd wanted to go home so badly for so long, yet this wasn't quite the way she'd planned on it. She feels the world shift and everything goes back. She's not even opened her eyes yet but things feel right as reality comes back to her fully it felt right, the temperature, the air, everything felt right she pushed herself up off the floor and looks over at everyone for a moment. <br /><br /> "Purgos? ... Right." <br /><br /> She shakes her self a little bit as she looks about for a moment and looks rather sheepish as she addresses everyone here. <br /><br /> "Welcome to the grid. Listen to what he has to say." <br /><br /> She checks to see her batons are still on each hip and she's got her disc, also Deelel outfit has changed it's now lacking any pretense are being human made as she looks to black birds. <br /><br /> "Strays are programs who have lost their discs and their minds. The are rounded up even still now to be repaired or ... worse." <br /><br /> "No, I didn't leave the grid conventionally I'm still not sure how it happened." <br /><br /> Faruja wait that's Faruja? By her user, it is him and he's looking human. <br /><br /> "...it seems this world has an effect on outsiders like several others. You don't look too bad as a human Faruja. He's correct its time go move." <br /><br /> Deelel pauses as suddenly a hamlet much like the other programs appears over her head masking her identity as well as a half cloak forms about her. Her voice now is likewise distorted. <br /><br /> "Numbers it's as TRON said, things have got bad we need to get moving. We can talk more once we are somewhere safe. This isn't how I wanted to show you my home but it looks like we're going to get a crash course." <br /><br /> She only had two cycles it wouldn't be enough they might need to get a better transport. <br /><br /> "TRON, we're going to need some form of transport as it's going to be a ways to Purgos."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck will let Deelel expain stuff, his focus apparently was on the door and his disc was lit up. He seemed pretty tense and with the other light going through the window.. he was getting very tense.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird Headshook and looked around and lingering at Faruja and the concern and apparent change. "So hm. You going to be alright?" She waited for an answer then saw Deelel pop up. A RECOGNIZEABLE FACE!<br /><br />"Alright Deelel you say we need to move we move. Just... we're a huge group. Do we split up try not getting noticed or rounded up all in one clump?" Curious voice. She had questions. LOTS of questions, but they werne't safe. iNstead she closed her eyes and focused, holding her hand out flat til a small flame appeared in her palm before fading out. "Yep. Magic still works. Anyone need healing before we get going?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi has no idea what is going on and nothing so far has helped clarify the situation. He looks around for someone to test the waters out with. "Nope," says the man as he holds his hand out. Flame to Ice to Lightning to Holy to Flame and POOF! Well at least some of the basics work. That is a strange relief. Noticing Maira, he makes light of the situation-- creeping over, "Oooooh. We are in a strange placceee. Fire war?" Yes. Paulo is not taking this seriously. Lets play a game of fire war-- where we burn each other up until one of them needs BURN HEAL.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The older man has taken his moment. "Oi, lass." This at Avira. "Lad, head outta the clouds." At Paulo. The two hadn't parted on the best terms, but this doesn't seem to be a huge problem. He digs around in his satchel and finds that his emergency supplies are still there, perhaps digitized but present nonetheless. "Likewise on the healing, I've tinctures that can mend at least. Let's heed the warnings of our kind hosts and not risk a fight in another's territory." <br /> <br />The smith has been walking as he spoke. He stares down whatever streets he can find, the digital glow discomfiting, but this is not so terrifying as it is strange and new. He's checking for any sign of encroaching forces. He's ALSO peering into bins for discarded data he can understand, or signs of aid. He's more vulnerable than most. Someone who fights using the environment is off his footing when put in unfamiliar space. "And here I was two days away from retirement." he intones, deadpan, taking a dagger out of his pocket and trying to score the ground beneath his feet in order to see what effect this might have. The dagger is mythril - or it was. Who knows what it is now?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur Drover says, "I've lived a lot, lad. That's why I'm scared for my blessed life right now, but it's a good fear, gets the muscles pumping. An' if ye don't show some respect I'll reach into your claudication and turn it insie' out. Don't think I can't." But there's mirth in his eyes as he lets out a "thbbbbt" in return."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Glorious, glorious hugs. And there's no fire involved to boot! By Faram, Faruja Senra has needed hugs these last few days. Cue hugs without shame, and even a little Reize-esque crying. "My wonderful, wonderful friend, hardly could I say. And...bah, no time!" The now ex-Burmecian glances, about, slowly getting to his feet. TRON. Avira. Maira. Deelel. He feels safe already. He's not sure about some of the others, but the group in general seems tied through various associations. It's a good indicator. Even if there's a noble along. <br /><br /> "Red enemies, and they yet know of our arrival. Simple enough. And quite the response time, I must say. Impressive." <br /><br /> Smile! He gets steady on his feet, for some amount of steady. "Dear Lord how do you humans move without a proper tail..." grumble grumble. His spear is out, and already he's in front of Maira. Tank go! <br /><br /> "Lady Deel, thy bar tab is mine own when next we go out! Er...thank thee..." Blush! Dang compliments. <br /><br /> He tilts his head slightly, already vexed at not being able to move them to hear. A wave of the hand to Blackbird. "I...shall manage. The sooner we are gone, the better methinks." <br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron has been in some of those digital worlds before, but she doesn't know what's giong on this time. Last time she entered through a similar 'laser', but it feems a bit different this time. She blinks at Tron's announcement "Strays? Are they considered... as bad things?" She knows all about being an outcast. She has the reflex of rubbing her upper arm, where there's a bandange covering. "... I rather not stay around to see what happens in person." <br /><br />Not to mention that 'Purgos' kinda sounds like Purge, which is something that happened, and she pretty much caused because of the events there..." She decides to stick close to Mr Rat Knight too.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird glowers at Paulo. "Too flashy and wastes resources we don't have to spare." Hard voice and snappish lady as she checked her pockets, pulled phone out and frowned at the inert black rectangle. "Also my phone is dead." She closed her eyes. Nothing. "Still dead.... but Magic works and we're fugitives on the lamb... or something. I'm with that guy there." She points to Arthur. "It's alright to be scared. I'm scared. I'm not much good in a fight, but i can keep you meatheads going. Anyone else know healing magic?" She's speaking fast now, panic creeping in. "What do you think, magi in the middle, ring of tanks?" Shifty eyes looking 'round. Good idea yes yes?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira looks over and flashes a smile to Paulo, fellow mage and mischief maker it would seem. Maira laughs lightly, shaking her head. "I'd win," she says with a wink. <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Arthur, nodding. "Well obviously, I don't want us to get caught in a fight if we don't need to, if we need to move lets move--and I have healing too. Phew, that's really nice. A lot of people with healing magics and potions. I've gotten so use to usually being the only one," she admits. She is sort of the resident medic for VALKYRI, after all. <br /><br /> Back to Faruja, Maira leans in to press a quick kiss to his forehead. He has obviously been through quite an ordeal. "Later, we'll talk my friend!" she comments. <br /><br /> To Blackbird, Maira smiles gently. "We'll be alright, we just stick together. Someone will guard you if you don't fight well, don't worry miss." Maira has her trusty not-currently-a-rat tank, even injured as he is. She gives Faruja a look, but just shakes her head. She's not going to make an issue of it in front of all these people. A man needs his pride. Sometimes.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi shakes a glorious fist at Arthur, but all the while he is grinning broad. He turns to Blackbird and raises an eyebrow, "Wait-- what? Speak for yourself! I have plenty of resources." Its true, he does. Most of them in sugar form. Of course to the 'who can heal', Paulo shrugs, "I'd answer but I dont want to 'show off', your highness." <br /><br />Finally, some kindred spirits. Paulo goes to nudge Maira, "When we get out of here-- you are so on."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel knew trouble was coming but if she could settle her friends it would hell their odd of surviving. <br /><br /> "Any magic may be seen as viral possibly keep that in mind." <br /><br /> She looks over to Arthur for a moment nodding a little but her face hidden and wonders if Arthur is temping fate with that comment. There's little she can do about it. <br /><br /> "We have to be prepared also please don't use my name. I have not been flagged for anything except perhaps being missing. Just keep that mind mind as well. I have faith in you, agreed. This could be bad, the grid is far more militant now then when. We only have two people who know the region at all, even then we'll still be in a huge group. Better to keep together unless TRON calls otherwise."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Alright." Arthur reaches into his pockets. "I don't trust my potions, my bow no longer remotely resembles a weapon..." he gestures the the old horn bow, now a blocky pixellated monster with no string, "and I'm no mage - but there's one thing that should be the same on all worlds." <br /> <br />What shimmer in the smith's hands are like jewels as they pour form the pouch, red, blue, green, white, orange, all glowing from within. "Maira. These are a result of our experimentation in Gummitech. I managed to bind a spell into the material. Consider them your payment. Each is different, I don't have time to explain. Throw and run." <br /> <br />A pouch, glistening with a silvery shimmer unlike the burlap which birthed it, is tossed to the woman. "Share with those as need." <br /> <br />The items were a new discovery, made of the stuff from the space between worlds. It's probably as alien as it gets, and in response to Deelel's warning, he adds: "Best save them for emergencies. They're about two thirds the power of a spell cast by a journeyman, but you can use a bunch of them or lay traps if you see the delay catch on the side."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric had tumbled to the floor upon entry, and had noticed the distinct lack of claws on his hands when he'd tried to push himself up, also noting the strange light-blue lines on the sleeves of his black tuxedo. His top hat was likewise bedecked with a line on each side forming a ring on the top of his hat, and his glossy black cane had digi-lines all down it. Now he kept trying to stand and faceplanting, because Nezumi typically stand with ankles raised off of the ground, and human legs just didn't have the musculature to keep that up for long.<br /><br />"Strays?!! We are not animals on the street!" Eric exclaimed in indignation, huffing and crossing his arms irritably - he'd rather given up on the rather ungraceful business of standing for now and was sitting cross-legged on the floor. At least that was still doable.<br /><br />Eric was a little jealous of all the coddles Faru was getting, but then these were his friends, so Eric settled for stating with a smirk, "Methinks your girlfriend is a touch doting of thee for such mixed company."<br /><br />He was joking, really, and what a wonderful first impression he was giving everyone.<br /><br />His head perked at the mention of fire wars - he was likewise irked at the lack of ears to twitch about - but he kept his face neutral. It sounded fun, aside from actually burning anyone. He spared a glance at Ser Senra<br /><br />"W-wait, you mean we can't use magic?!!!" Eric squeaked. This was a touch problematic for all the mages here, which he was one.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi shakes his head to Eric, "No. It means if you use magic you'll be treated as a virus. A virus being a bad thing." Lets be honest here, a royal sage from Mysidia doesnt really know what a virus is outside of the Bio spells. He continues on, "Though if what Be-- er TRON-- was saying is true-- being a virus seems the least of our worries. We are already 'Eradicate on Site' to the locals. So breathe. Breathe in... breathe out..."<br /><br />The young blonde sage looks to Deelel, "We are breathing right. This world-- air goes in us, ya? Or is this psuedo not-really-air air? Or can we not call it air, for fear it has been classified as another 'Nono' word and will amplify our potential for destruction from the locals?" Yes. Rules. Blerg.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird nods. Healing and or Magic might seem Viral. Wait.... Viral? She looked from Deelel to Tron to Beck and shook her head."OK. Dumb question. Where did hte laser spit us out at?" Thoughts and ideas bumped around and collided in her head. "This place is giving a very space paranoids vibe. I don't want to be the person to ask stupid but knowing the enviroment might be helpful to us newbies.."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> It wasn't to long until those lights out side suddenly blazed right onto the building. It came right through the door. The sound of marching feet could be heard not to long after Beck had tenses up fully. And soon the door was suddenly kicked right down. Two by two they marched in. Massive wide shoulders and no real faces to see. Their circuit lines were red and staves in their hands that had glowing red tips.<br /><br /> Beside them were much thinner units, with disc in their hands. CLU's forces were here.<br /><br /> One of them spoke up. "All Programs," Their voices were deep and slightly distorted, almost robotic. "You are to stand down and be.." Suddenly they stared at Beck. "Its the Regenade! Then these are.."<br /><br /> Another one speaks up. "Get him and those programs!"<br /><br /> And thus the sudden charge of at least ten different guys came rushing in fully.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The Renegade however was ready for this, so when they marched in. His hand was already tense. He leaped into the air and fired off his disc with a spin. Before catching it, sending it at another guard. Then at another. "If you can fight, FIGHT! If you can't, stay at the rear!"<br /><br /> Then the Renegade ran up a wall before he flipped off and just tossed his disc once again for good measures. He wasn't sure what to do to get them out of here. TRON city was a big city. They could take the back ways and underground tunnel, but they have to get their first.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird eyenaarrowed when the lights went out. No more questions. time to move but... but but... Well when in doubt BUFF. She looked over to TRON, the one in black, the one she sorta knew. and started layering on magic.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Yes...let's, my dear." Responds Faruja to the good, reliable, lovable Fire Lady. Really, who could ask for a better friend? <br /><br /> A sharp intake of breath. That isthe sound of a Templar trying to not strangle a noble. "Oh, she is most tolerant and kind!" Breathe out. Save the violence for the guys in red. If he still had a tail, it'd be lashing right now. <br /><br /> There are good questions being bandied about, though, and the rat listens. <br /><br /> There are people rushing in, however, before he gets any good answers. Kicking down the door, in fact. Faruja frowns. <br /><br /> "Fah! While thy response time is most admirable, Sers, thy lack of an intimidating presence as a whole as well as thy emotionless delivery deducts three points. Seven out of ten points. BACK TO TRAINING WITH YE, KNAVES!" Cue Faruja sweeping in with his spear, stabbing and swatting at anyone who dares get close to Maira.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>"Yeah yeah yeah," Paulo says-- despite the obvious danger he has difficulty taking it seriously. Digital Paulo holds his hand out-- chanting wordlessly as his lips part. When the hand closes-- a hexagon-like barrier appears towards Faru, Deelel, and Maira. "Running or staying?" he asks the fearless leaderships.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Well, there goes the plan of leaving as quietly as possible... They are spotted. And they aren't happy either. She heard about not using magic, but... there's not much choice here either. She pats Faruja's shoulder encouragingly as she takes a step back, and takes a sweeping look at everyone around her "I have your back, you can count on my healing!" She announces to them confidently.<br /><br />She brings her hands together, looking as if offering a prayer, as she chants up her magic, two shimmering shields for magical and physical protection surrounding Faruja and Deelel. She's the White Mage of this party.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur moves quicksilver fast. Whipcord muscles tug something from his pocket. A weapon? <br /> <br />Arthur has produced a much-loved and dogged picture of his wife. <br /> <br />Yeah, a weapon. He takes a delicate moment to fold it up and place it in his pocket. Arthur doesn't run, he doesn't rush. He famously doesn't rush. The forces encroach and there's a moment's grunting assay. Their posture, their yell, this is hostility both open and malicious. <br /> <br />"Group together. " He hurls a dagger - or the digital representation of a dagger. It flies with surprising accuracy. There is a string tied to it. It has a group of violent orange gummis tied to the handle. A moment later, it explodes into a line of flame intended to bisect the battlefield, cutting some of the enemy forced aside and giving Tron his opening. <br /> <br />But the fire doesn't stop there. This time he hurls a spheroid object overhand, and it lands in a gust of wind that fans the flames higher still and rains purple-green data down on the opposing force. Once this is done, the smith begins to hum. <br /> <br />"Ding, dong didero~ Black coal yellows..." <br /> <br />Whatever the black, faintly shimmering, poorly voxelated object is, it was once a Dwarven catalytic stone. Now it might as well be hellfire. "We all go home, kids." <br /> <br />The flames leap like a living thing, the violent orange probably offensive. No point hiding it now. Once the mirror's broken, it doesn't matter how ugly you were.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>No magic? No problem for Avira. She's trained for this! Some brief words are exchanged with Faruja before things really get bad and she marvels over the whole 'Faruja is a HUMAN' thing for a few seconds. With a few quick steps, she's over by Maira, standing close to her, shoulders hunched. <br /><br />"Stay close to me." she warns her, idlily wondering if Maira was carrying a gun on her now that Mercade gave her lessons. She...really should. Especially for situations like these. But at least Arthur has her back! With /Gummi Grenades/. <br /> <br />The nearest...blackguard is it? that ventures too close is suddenly assaulted with the spine, which is just as sharp and dangerous as it is in the real world. Even without magic, Avira proves herself to be extremely capable with her unusual weapon.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON twirls his Silver Disc between his fingers as his attention temporarily disconnects from the conversations around himself. Perusing the data Flynn gave him, evaluating the images, trying to... remember...? Just /why/ is it so terribly easy to access this data when it is a distraction at best even in Userspace? <br /><br />There is no more time. <br /><br />The doors derez in a shower of voxels, admitting a new group of Programs--red lines, armor--so terribly familiar, but reskinned from what he truly /knows/. His Silver Disc activates with an ominous hum, illuminating the black glassy surface of his full-face visor without revealing the face underneath, and takes a defensive stance. <br /><br /><"You heard the Renegade!"> He finds it far too easy to let Beck take the lead considering the circumstances. <"And whatever you do--ztay together!"> <br /><br />He lunges forwards a step as he throws his Disc, aiming to have the frisbee-like object ping-pong amongst as many of the 'security forces' as possible. He grabs a pike from another, attempting to wrench it out of the Program's hands and use it against he and his fellows, before catching-and-throwing his Disc once more into their midst.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel sees the red lined programs oh this was going to get crazy, this was so going to get crazy as more and more guys come in he disc comes out. She says nothing she's not going to talk she hears The Renegade call out orders and her disc is already armed at this point, she's gong to fight where she has to but she's aiming to not kill just disable them, it's faster anyway. <br /><br /> She runs several command lines boosting her combat abilities. However her friends were going to get so much notice. They are her friends but she just sees how chaotic they can really be. A thought strikes her about them but that's something best saved for later, she's not even sure how Beck would take the comparison. She' now closes as her friends are forming up into combat with the local Blackguard. This was going to be a heck of a welcome back. She twists she shifts she moves to disable as she planned. IF anyone notices her efforts who knows? She's not about to let a friend get killed but ...doesn't feel right to kill if she doesn't have to.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira nudges Paulo back, laughing quietly. "Alright, if you're sure!" she replies. That should be fun and interesting! Better make sure to, you know, live. That is of rather paramount importance, actually. <br /><br /> Maira looks then to Arthur, her eyes growing round as he passes her the bag filled with gummi--infused with spells. "Ohhh...." she says, a world of possibilities entering her mind. Oh, they're gonna need to talk after this! "Ehehe...alright, I'll be careful with them! And I will try to keep my magic to a minimum but its...really all I can do," she says, biting her lip gently. She's no Avira, who has some spells but is also a badass warrior. Maira is squishy. Like, really squishy. <br /><br /> Thinking about that, is of course the moment that the big scary dudes break the door down, assume they are all the enemy, and start attacking. Maira's eyes widen and she reaches for Blackbird to move her behind her--hey, maybe she's even squishier, or at least less used to people trying to kill/kidnap her. Blackbird has the right idea though, its buffing time. She can fight, but its probably best if she stays toward the back, which she does. <br /><br /> The mage smile and nods to Paulo as she recognizes his protection spell being applied to her, and waves her hand to do likewise--though her protection is different. Maira takes a breath then reaches up to press a hand against her chest roughly over where her heart is, letting out a few soft notes that ring pure through the otherwise discordant din of battle. A warmth is carried by her brief song, settling over Paulo, Avira, and Faruja. <br /><br /> She took a level in bard, okay?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira then takes a moment to look toward Eric, his comment finally registering. "I'm not Faruja's girlfriend, silly. He's just a dear friend," she replies with a smile. She's not embarrassed. Amaaaazing.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Well Eric was already breathing, but he was finding himself following Paulo's instructions for some odd reason, upon which he said, "Hey!"<br /><br />But that was when /things/ suddenly came through the door - human-looking things with red lines army-marching through the door! And Eric started following Paulo's instructions anew - he didn't have the courage of Faruja and certainly didn't have the battle experience. He was just a spoiled, rich little merchant who does magic tricks for kids, that's all! Although even magic tricks can be deadly, and with panic mounting into rage, Eric summoned a ball of fire into his hand, lobbing it overhead to strike at whatever red-lined enemies weren't being cut apart by the blades of the warriors.<br /><br />To Maira's comment, he simply smirked and said in mock-disbelief, "Certainly, my dear."<br /><br />Eric, stop yanking your allies' chains mid-battle.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck's own disc comes slashing through the troops. Knocking a few of them back and derezing one of them. Then Faruja's spear slams through one of the thinner guards, and when the spear was pulled out, his whole body crumbles down to voxel of cubes onto the ground.<br /><br /> The Flames impact the others, causing them to stagger back as their bodies nearly catch on fire. They knew what fire was. They had explosion here on the Grid, just like they had weather. A few of them end up getting burned alive and they too, become voxels.<br /><br /> Yet more continue to storm in. The news of the Regenade was here was passing quick and one of them even yells to kill the Regenade and capture the others for the games.<br /><br /> Avira' sword comes in and one with a disc quickly counters the weapon, as one of the larger ones with a staff ends up slamming it right into Avira's hammer. The red end of it which makes contact may send a bit of a jolt through her body.<br /><br /> Though the Dwarf attack was most effective, many of the guards quickly moves away after the first group got put onto fire. This means now that several of them are on the move and heading right for everyone. Disc being thrown, staffs being swung Though one a few get targeted. As it seem the numbers were indeed thinning out.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird growls low as she looked at the guards before running at one of the thinner ones. Suicide? Madness? Nope! As she ran she pulled her pistol out, an old 1911 colt. She didn't know if it would work here, but it dind't matter since it was empty. She just used it as a convenient focus. Instead she leveled it at her target and opened fire; channling fire and lightning through the weapon and sending each in small orange and blue-white blobs out. And then if she wasn't already cut to ribbons she'd try pistol whipping the poor guard with the butt of her pistol.<br /><br />It's only in mid-run that she noticed Thing had hit her. Oh well Thing hadn't actually HURT her yet. So KEEP GOING.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja at once is Protect'd, Shell'd, and Song'd thanks to the combined efforts of Serah, Paulo, and Maira. A nod to the trio, Faruja already feeling better, makes for another attack. It's wobbly, and his newness on his feet shows. He glances to Avira, muttering prayers for her inclusion. He can certainly trust her to protect Maira should his new problems cause him to falter! <br /><br /> Then, there's fire. Faruja gasps, old fears welling up inside of him. He grips his spear tighter, breathing hard. The smell of burning bodies fills his nose...<br /><br /> No. He grits his teeth, and moves that much closer to Maira. Think of /her/. The warm, friendly flames. Not the ones being thrown by his fellow ex-Burmecian. <br /><br /> Frown. "My, my, my. Back to training indeed." Mutters the rat. But, of course, the weaklings have numbers. They must not get paid much. <br /><br /> Spear-thrust! "Shining light, spill down with divine retribution! Holy Explosion!" The heavenly light of Holy Explosion slams down, seeking to reduce more security to voxels. They're not playing nice, and neither is the rat. Not when his friends are in danger. Then, up goes his spear, parrying and generally keeping the heat off of Maira like a good PalaDragoon.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck somehow manages to go ignored. Maybe because of what TRON did. Either way he slides through some of the guards, "Excuse me." Before snatching up a few batons that have fallen to the ground.<br /><br /> The white suited program then quickly uses one of the guards to jump onto and spring board off, before he yells over to a few. "Catch!" He then tosses out for batons to four people. He then flips one of them over. Before he then spins his disc around the area. Allowing it to ping pong off the walls, before jumping up into the air to recatch it and then, tossing another one through some of the guards.<br /><br /> Before tossing out a few more batons.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The Synthesist notices the approaching forces. "We should be thinking about retreat, now." He calls it aloud. No point worrying about being overheard. "We've all got a reason to leave and no one plays the martyr. Play the man instead. Savin' yer presences." <br /> <br />This is directed generally at those of a female or feminine persuasion, and followed by a genteel smile. His voice turns more gruff as he adds: "And if any of you die, remember that a forgemaster rules hell, and he might owe me a favor. Now come on!" <br /> <br />The movement is languid, almost practiced. He pulls the bow from his shoulder. <br /> <br />Arthur is leery. A consummate artisan, now armed with a blocky mess. His bracers didn't manifest. A string of energy springs to life on the weapon, as if it remembers what it is and what it is for. He nocks an arrow, which looks blocky and not at all pleasing - but it holds. <br /> <br />The "string" is ephemera - light and air and little more. When he fires the arrow, he doesn't fire at the forces of Oblivion, he fires straight up instead. <br /> <br />Where the shot hits the ceiling, it turns into a starburst, bright as a second sun - assuming there is a first sun, he hadn't checked and doubted it could be called a sun. <br /> <br />But the light doesn't blind, it's a warming thing. Not magical, just pyrotechnics and a vaporous distribution of regenerative chemicals. Or so it would have been in the real world. <br /> <br />Here it might as well be hope. <br /> <br />At that moment, he kicks backward, momentarily not under attack. Another practiced move as Drover tries desperately to find an alleyway not clogged with the red tide. Above, the sun blazes like a beacon, unafraid for all it probably sends ripples of awe or notice through the system.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi looks back and over to the beneficial spells. A thumbs up goes back to Serah, "I'll leave the defensive magic to you!" He paces forwards-- towards the hordes as he finds a spot nearby Faru. Yes-- right in the thick of combat. His hands start glowing where an orb barely shimmers. "So, you getting used to your new form? I haven't seem you fall yet," he engages in candid commentary to Faru-- flashing a grin back to Maira who he ends up nearby through proximity to her protector.<br /><br />"Whoa," the sage deflects a blow-- returning what looks like small laser beams from his fingers-- held like pistols as he goes, "Pew Pew." Western-Paulo. Take that, programs.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron watches as the first troups are easily taken down by the front row attacks. She looks over to Paulo and Faruja, nodding to them "... Was that all of them you think?" She hopes it won't get any worse than that at least. She has a mind to check on the downed soliders too, not wanting anyone to die either, wether they are programs or users. Although she doesn't know what a 'user' is either. "... We probably should leave before more arrive, we probably made alot of noise and that will attract more of them."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira made a promise that Maira wouldn't get hurt by these! That means, of course, getting in the way of the guys that come to fight her, even if her weapon doesn't seem to do much on first pass. She grunts angrily at the jolt and sidesteps around Maira, keeping her back to the fire mage. Avira makes sure she remains as a tiny wall against the incoming guards. <br /><br />Programs exploding into voxels...well, it's not something Avira's seen before like this. She's seen damage done to Deelel, but it's always been very little. Not complete destruction! She doesn't let this bother her at the moment and remains focused. <br /><br />"This is bad, we need to get out of this warehouse or we're going to stay trapped here." A battle of attrition did not look good. She continues her close quarters combat with that one guard, stepping forward and jabbing multiple times.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON rips the staff out of a heavy Blackguard's hands and twirls it, blocking a Disc or two that flies his way. He sweeps the staff low, twisting to face the incoming reinforcements-- <br /><br />A Disc clips the side of one knee, barely scratching the black surface but a noticeable blue voxelization appearing in its wake. It's not much, but it does hobble him. <br /><br />He drops the staff for the moment and removes his Black Disc, tensing noticeably as Arthur's light washes over him. He can feel the effects strengthening him, and wastes no time in throwing both Discs at the incoming enemy in a constant rhythm of throw-bounce-return-repeat. In-between Disc throws, he catches spare batons from Beck and tosses them further back to the others. <"Grab one, get ready to uze it!"> He doesn't keep one for himself, as he already has one at his hip.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi grabs one of those baton-- things. You know who is a BA sage? This guy right here. He throw it on the ground and says, "Superbot, Activate!" Just kidding. Not cool, Paulo. Not cool. Nothing happens. He picks it back up admist the action, "Some assembly required, boss." Over his shoulder he points the hand-lasers and pew pews three more guards that come in.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Swiping red-gold hair hastily away from her face, Maira's eyes dart from friend to friend, making sure they were all alright before she settles on a course of aggressive action. She catches Paulo's look and nods, smiling. Yup, time for the mages to do some damage! <br /><br /> Though Arthur catches her attention next, and she remembers the pouch he'd tosses her. Aha! "If anyone finds an exit, I can help cover our escape!" she says then, stuffing the bag of gummies into her pocket for the time being, wanting to save them for when they will be most useful (as much as she wants to see what they do NOW). <br /><br /> Maira watches Faruja and Avira closely, shouting a quick "Down! Incoming!" to warn them that she is going to start slinging spells. Maira raises her hands, which quickly ignite, sheathed in bright flame that is very real, heating the air around her for several feet. She throws one hand outward to direct her energy, closing her fist as a fire ball flies from her hand to sail toward the enemy forces.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel even with her experience in user space she's still surprised as she's been able too disable two of the black guards with east, she's grinning behind her faceplate it seems she truly has grown past her original purpose and that's just the final proof of it to her. She quickly snags the two downed guards batons and will toss them out to anyone who still has needed of them. <br /><br /> "Catch these are out tickets out of here. They form lightcycles, that we can get out of here on. I don't want to remain before they start being the really heavy firepower here. Just watch me." <br /><br /> Deelel is now effected by more magic an other powers sending her combat abilities much higher much to her surprise. <br /><br /> Deelel pulls the baton off of her leg and holds out she makes sure it's easy to see how she's activating the bite from the baton which forms in a wire frame about her fleshing out a fully forms current gen lightcycle. Most noticeable thing about the cycle is it almost seems Deelel is a part of the bike herself from how she's now formed almost into it. <br /><br /> "If you used a cycle in user space same basic set up the controls are the same. If you haven't?" <br /><br /> Deelel takes a moment to explain the basics of their operation and prays to her User they are enough for her friends. Her own machine revs it's engine. <br /><br /> "We shouldn't waste time, tanks and worse will be on the way at this rate."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck's own attacks came racing in. One of them got knocked right over, while several more were voxeled away. A few that attempted to defend themselves from the Renegade's attacks suddenly get blasted through by the backside by Blackbird.<br /><br /> A few them started to stagger back now. The programs they were facing (unaware that most of these were not programs at all!), were putting a hurt on their numbers. Faruja's own attack came in and several of them were able to defend themselves. Including also when Avira moved in as well. Then the laser beams from the Sage collide into several of them who were not ready for it and they get turned into voxels as well.<br /><br /> TRON then performed some nice feats of fancy getting a good deal of them corned and causing a few of them to actually head for the door as they try to defend themselves. Actually retreating! Which may be a good thing-- or a bad thing.<br /><br /> Maira's fire then clears out several more into nice voxels, while Deelel is able to knock out some guards and take their batons. As for the rest. They are running away.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja nods towards the others, frowning. "Agreed. So much as I appreciate a proper martrydom, time and place, Sers and Dames!" His head tilts. Paulo speaks. Wobble. <br /><br /> "'Tis not as hard as it initially seemed! One merely shifts their center of gravity just a touch..." Oh, wait, spells. FIRE! <br /><br /> Luckily, Faruja doesn't have to be told twice, that familiar non-friendly Maira heat on his back. Duck! <br /><br /> "Now, about that method of transportation? Oh dear /Faram/ why did I not bring Arista along?" Somehow he doubts summoning her would work well here. Nor does he seem to get the use of the batons! <br /><br /> Until Deel explains. Faruja turns to the group at large. "Human...or program in this case...technology is not my forte." Explains the rat quickly. Nope, he'll not be the driver tonight, Sers and Dames.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi watches Deelel-- taking note of the 'how' and 'why'. If nothing else, Paulo is a very quick study. "Got it," he says with a cocky grin-- looking over his shoulder to see more baddies coming. With a quick motion of his hand, digital wind kicks the baton to his hands. He runs forward-- leaping and kicking into a bike. There we go, there is the BA transformation he was looking for. It revs up right in front of Serah as he tells her, "Come with me, if you want to live," in his most masculine voice possible. Note: Still not very masculine. He is only 19. The engine revs.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Some people already called it right. They need to get out of here and Deelel was already going over some of the cycle basics. "If you don't know how to ride a bike. You can catch a ride with me." The Renegade says calmly as he then hooks his disc to his back and pulls out his own.<br /><br /> "Stay close to me and follow my lead. These guys have cycles as well and some far worse things." The Regenade then activates the cycle inside the arcade. He revs it a bit as he keeps his foot down on the ground. "..and is everyone alright?"<br /><br /> Now the question was.. tunnel.. or Outlands..<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Completely missing Faruja's reaction to his pyrotechnics, Eric grinned as he did a small mental dance of victory at seeing some of the things flee his fire... until he realized they were coming for the rest of them. He squeaked, about to cast a spell, but they were fleeing again as everyone else drove them off. He felt rather impotent, but at least they were all alive!<br /><br />He caught the baton and looked at it in open confusion, wondering why anyone thought it was a good idea to give a melee weapon to a Black Mage. And then Deelel said something about them being their ticket out of here and... woah! He gaped at the lightcycle, not entirely certain he could pilot something like that, as nothing like it existed in Gaia. He looked down at the batons.<br /><br />"Exactly how fast can these go?" he asked, rather unable to mask the boyish hopefulness in his voice. One of his favorite things he'd ever managed with his magic was zipping around in a kid's wagon on an aero when he was eight.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron picks up the 'baton', wondering what to do with it when its tossed her way.<br /><br />She even uses it to scratch the back of her head for a moment... but then Deelel does that little demonstration "... That's neat. I wonder if that'd work in our world too..." Well, if she can even bring the stick back with her, might be fnu to try. But for now...<br /><br />She holds the stick with her two hands, leaning forward slightly. The cycle materializes under her, forcing her into an even more prone position, and surrounding her with that sort of bubble protecting the driver, as she ends up sitting on top of it.<br /><br />"... Wow, that's incredible!" She exclaims from inside that bubble, looking around. She wobbles the stick a bit, and suddenly it rides off.<br /><br />She only has time to go ACK before she slams into a nearby post. She groans, the cycle disapearing and leaving her on the ground, on her knees. "Maybe I'm not good with driving..." She sighs, but puts the baton away in a pocket, as she looks up to Paulo's offer. She has a giggle, shaking her head "Cute, but let's go quickly." She slides up and behind Paulo quickly, ready to drive off.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird twisted around, still firing one handed while snagging a baton from mid-air. These guards were down and so she holdered her weapon and concentrated on the baton. "How does this work?" She shook it holding the thing like a sword handle.<br /><br />"HOW?!" Blackbird's mind spooled back to Deelel summining a bike. "Just throw it? Are there commands? Thought pattern? What?" She was shouting so she could be heard. In the middle of a battle and running for your lives was NOT the best time to suddenly be expected to know how to use New Thing.<br /><br />While she waited for a response she cast about with her healing magic focusing on TRON and Deelel. They were apparently natives here. Priority: Keep those two alive.<br /><br />And then Deelel gives a demonstration of how to USE the light cycle. Oohkay press button and throw. She remembered seeing Deelel do this before but now... Throw. She caught the handle bars right as the cycle formed around her. It felt like a full body glove actually. Shes ridden many bikes but this felt almost like she was laying down and gliding along the road. Pity she always wante a recumbant like off that one anime. oh well. <br /><br />All thought of being chased was momentarily cleared from her mind as she let out a joyous noise. "WOOHOOOHOOOO! YEEAA!" And away she went off to wherever Deelel was headed.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira gladly snags a baton. She's familiar with the light cycles-and by that she means she's had to fight Deelel while she was riding one in the arena a while ago. Carefully, she watches Deelel hold the baton so a light cycle is summoned in front of her. <br /><br />"I know how to ride a motorcycle. Mercade taught me." she announces, leaning over so the bike appears beneath her. "Maira, get on my bike and get those gummi grenades ready. If they chase us, I want you to bomb the crap out of them."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur takes hold of one of the batons. He waves the incomprehensible rod, taking time to inspect it before anyoner flies off. "Avira, this is highly experimental." He doffs his satchel and passes it over to the inventor. "Throw it and make sure you are far away. It was an early failure, I don't have two. A thing should be elegant and beautiful, even if it is a tool and even if it will die in its use." <br /> <br />This cryptic explanation passed, the synthesist waits to see if anyone is tagging along with him, and should they do so, he will take off. In any other circumstance, the old hunter rides alone - keeping to the rear with the surprises still in his last remaining pair of satchels.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira looks up as a baton comes flying in her general direction. Reactively she catches it in a hand still wreathed in flame, though she quickly extinguishes it before it can do any damage. She then looks to Deelel, watching the light cycle appear, her eyes widening in proportion to her grin, which becomes downright maniacal as she realizes what she holds in her hand. Girl has a serious need for speed. GLEE! <br /><br /> She has no real idea how to drive one of these things, but there is absolutely zero chance she isn't going to give it a try. Zero. <br /><br /> Maira mimics Deelel's motions and summons the light cycle around herself, accompanied with a slightly unnerving girlish giggle of utter excitement. "Avira! No way! I'm driving! Someone has to take Faruja Faruja, hop on and come with me!" she calls, reaching into her pocket then to pass Faruja the pouch Arthur had given her. "Okay, we're going last and we're gonna cover our escape, got it? Throw these behind us as we go! Trust me! Go go!" she calls to the others. <br /><br /> Assuming Faruja does indeed hop on, the two of them will wait for the others to all clear out before Maira peels out on the lightcycle. <br /><br /> There are only two modes Maira knows; Stop, and Hold-Onto-Your-Everything-Break-Neck-Speed. <br /><br /> She does the second one, bwee'ing in wild abandon! "BWEEEEE!!!"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Avira loops the sachel over her shoulder immediately. Only once she has it secured to her does she peek inside. There is a moment of pause as her eyes widen, "Oho, this will be /fun/ to deploy." she doesn't want to pass this object off to anyone else. <br /><br />Maira refuses her ride and Avira frowns. Oh well, if she was with Faruja, she'll be in good (human!) hands.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi revs one last time for effect. Have to have effect. Paulo promptly speeds off with the bike group with Serah in tow. It is kind of like that one game with a hero wielding a sword and princess wielding a bow. Only Paulo has a beard-- and cant use a sword very well. Its nothing like that, actually. Either way, the sage revs around-- banking left and right to test this things manueverability. "Yaaaaahhhooooo," he yells to the digital wind as he drives.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel still kinda shudders at all the voxels everywhere it's just well a mess in her point of view she's reving the engines and she smirks at the question. <br /><br /> "Fast enough, damn fast actually compared to say what your used to for a mount." <br /><br /> Deelel's machine revs she's ready to ride. Sure it's not as fast as her classic first gen bike but it's a heck of a lot harder to ID than that would be. Given there were a handful of them around on the grid when she was last here, now there might not be any of them left. <br /><br /> She revs her engines. <br /><br /> "The cycles do, lets chatter lets get going just follow us and have a little faith." <br /><br /> Deelel intends to ride guard given her better experience with lightcycles over her life. She's also mentally checking her friends. Everyone is okay more or less she does look over to Faruja for a moment. "Well my dear Dragoon lets see how you handle this if you want flight maybe we can provide for that later, but that will need lessons." <br /><br /> Maira, and Avira are all set up it's time to get rolling but she's not so up to date on the grid's layout. A lot could have changed while she was away. So she calls out to Beck. <br /><br /> "TRON, lead the way, boss."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Alright, Eric, don't be a showoff. You don't have to prove your nez- manliness by pretending you know what you're doing when you clearly don't. You don't have to try the super-cool-awesome-looking-thing while being chased down by a pack of hunters. You don't have to- Maira was doing it. And Faru was riding.<br /><br />With a grin, Eric pushed the button, tossed the baton into the air... and squeaked in minor alarm as the lightcycle formed around him. Even more stupidly, once over the initial surprise of what happened to everyone else happening to him, he revs the engine to full throttle and goes peeling off in glee, "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!"<br /><br />..... Dead man driving...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja takes the pack of gummi grenades, holding on. The ex-rat peers at the light cycle suspiciously. "Oh Faram, this is one of those contraptions Lady Deel rides." Squint! A foot pokes the cycle. He turns to Maira. He watches that grin spread on her face. <br /><br /> Faruja hops on, distinctly silent for a moment. <br /><br /> Then, he speaks, the slightest nervous tremble to his voice. "...Now, Maira, please let us ride at a reasonable spe...EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" <br /><br /> Off into the sunset, Faruja holds onto bike and Maira for dear life. <br /><br /> Blink. Something catches his mind as he tries to distract himself from BREAK NECK MAIRA RIDE. He pulls out a voxel. Deel's voxel. Blink. He remembers those guards. "...D...Dear Faram this could be Deel's spleen." Yup, he's now thoroughly disturbed. He puts Deel Spleen Voxel back in his inventory.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>The black form of TRON seems to glance over at the others if the helm-cant is of any indication, many of whom are getting the hang of using the Light Cycles. These particular designs look strange to him, but he's far more used to... well, /his/ Grid's Light Cycle. Pity it can't take passengers. Then again, as fast as it can get? <br /><br /><"Take whichever route you feel iz better for our group,"> he replies to Beck. He unclips his own baton--oddly just a plain glowing-blue cylinder compared to the more intricate batons of the others--and grasps it in both hands. He snaps forwards as the wire-frame of a completely-canopied Light Cycle forms around him, solidifying into a blue Light Cycle of much different (and older) make than the ones the others use. <br /><br /><"Once we get moving, I will zcout around and enzure we are not followed."> His voice is further distorted, as if speaking through a subpar speaker with a modulator. <"Renegade, lead on."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja is holding on for dear life alright! <br /><br /> "Uh, Faru!? Could you not hold onto to THOSE?" she calls back in mild alarm.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Aaand users are driving around. Beck glances over to TRON. There was a bit of a deadpan look behind the black full face visor. Man. Did they need to get a lasso? However TRON suggest to roll with it. So the Renegade TRON only nods his head.<br /><br /> He is thankful Deelel also called him by what his title is here and he gave a nod to TRON when he told him to lead on. Maybe some of these users will get it, or the first TRON will have to play rodeo with his much faster light bike. "..You know," He says to TRON as he revs his light cycle again. "..when we get to Argon-- you are going to snag a ton of attention with that thing." He almost sounds playful. "..I know someone who be jealous of it too."<br /><br /> and then The Renegade is off, to lead the charge to the Tunnel! It should be a nice one way shot into the backside of Argon and much closer to Purgos and hopefully Tesler isn't-- waiting or.. something.<br /><br /> Fraggin' Tesler.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>At Maira's shout, Eric shouted above the digital wind, "Dear Lord Faru, is now really the time to be groping your girlfriend???" before breaking off into peals of squeaky laughter as he zoomed on ahead.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The tunnel was long and forces were indeed waiting. Thankfully TRON and the others had methods of handling the troops and they kept on moving through. However the tunnel had collapsed in one section and Beck had to find another way through the old tunnel system. They eventually did make it into outlining every of Purgos and right into the old city sector.<br /><br /> Most everyone got ignored, at least at first. Though some started to scatter when they saw the Renegade. Others wondered why there was so many, till they saw the Renegade as well. By the end, the street was nearly vacant, beyond a few who still remained and those few only watched on.<br /><br /> Up high on buildings were billboards and those billboards explained it all.<br /><br /> The Renegade.<br /> Wanted dead or alive.<br /> Assassin program. <br /> Approach with Caution.<br /><br /> Now it was the question if they could get the discs they needed...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja's nose bleeds, and his entire face is beat red. Hands go on the /waist/ now. "Erm...my deepest apologies! Merely...grasped for the most, ahem, convenient and graspab...shutting up now, my dear!" Poor thing sounds honestly embarrassed. Then Eric speaks. <br /><br /> "SHE IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, MERELY A DEAR FRIEND! BESIDES, HATI'S ARE..." Pause. He clams up. Noope, not finishing that one. No need to dig his hole further! <br /><br /> As they pass by those troops? Cue the occasional gummi grenade. Faruja grins. "My, my, my, I shall have to acquire a few of these..." Someone is impressed. <br /><br /> Then, they're in Purgos. Faruja peers about. "My, my, my. 'Tis...beautiful, in its own right." Mutters the rat upon seeing so many large, tall buildings, somewhat reminding him of manhattan. Only glowy!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Riding alongside Faru and Maira-- a rogue Paulo head turns to witness Faru's blight, "Suuuuuuuuuuuuurrr," he goes on-- which should end with a 'rrreeee' but his engine revs at that moment. Despite not being a real tech guy-- Paulo handles the bike very well. Reading the wind and adjusting quickly suits this method of transport. It is a lot like flying or floating at fast speeds. The bike sways with Serah on it as he makes it a fun ride. Sure, they might get obliterated at any moment, but at least he will have had a good time.<br /><br />"Man. He wasn't kidding about being wanted," serious-Paulo notes seriously about the sign. Just who is this Beck? Why is he wanted? What did he eat for dinner?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Despite having never driven a light cycle before, she manages not only not to crash and kill them both, but to actually maneuver around obstacles. AND she finds the breaks. She hits them as the others ahead of her do, though she didn't slow down much first, thus turning the bike to the side to drift it sideways until it comes to a stop, as if she were an action movie star. <br /><br /> Maira dismisses the bike and begins bouncing around like a crazy person. "THAT WAS AWESOME!" <br /><br /> She spots the billboard then and quiets down, looking around sheepishly as she winces an apology. "Ehe....sorry..." <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Faruja, blinking. "Hati's are /what/?" she asks. The end of that better not have been 'better!'<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> The Renegade pulled in and grunted a little at the craziness that was the tunnel and in some ways, thankful for the others help. As the people started to scatter, it was a harsh reminder of the truth. The truth of what lies were created about him. Either by CLU-- or by someone who left a mark on him.<br /><br /> "..This may be trickier then.." he mutters to himself, but doesn't continue. Looking back at the others. The Renegade then responds to Faruja, "..Purgos is one of the older cities. It use to be Argon proper.. really, until Argon became larger and sprawled out from it. Now it is a sector of Argon city that-- lower, more.. unable programs come too.. Because of that. There is a rather large black market here.. and not the best of people."<br /><br /> Then to Maira, "..Its ok. There is a long story behind it.. but no real time to explain right now."<br /><br /> The Renegade looked then over to Paulo, "..and no. I wasn't kidding." Then Beck dismounted from the bike, allowing it to return into the baton, before attaching it to his hip. "Just trying and keep a low profile for a bit. I need to go find someone who may be able to help us out."<br /><br /> Renegade then looks at TRON, "..You think you can keep an eye on them while I go see what I can do." He then does a quick head count. "It shouldn't take me to long. They are not far from here." He places out his hand to TRON. "..and thanks.. by the way.."<br /><br /> The white suited program then backs away from the others before he then takes off into the allies.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel was thinking this was one of those cycles and she totally agrees with the idea of getting a lasso a user roundup may be needed. She's going to have a mental image of Tron and Beck with cowboy hats for a while at this point. She speaks up at the mention of Argon. <br /><br /> "I'm not going to like the state of Argon ... am I?" <br /><br /> Even distorted one can hear the sadness in her voice, it's her home and she has no idea what's happened. She ignores the comments between Eric and Faruja, oh she so totally does. Also they are heading to the tunnel thankfully they are able to get through with no fatalities and it takes a while for them to get through but she can't help but look, damn Beck really has made an impression here. She also thinks Faruja is digging himself so darn deep today at this point. <br /><br /> "It's ... home. This is the world I spoke to you of Faruja. Do you see now why only seeing it would do it any justice. It's the same for your world really. They don't like TRON, what can I say they are pulling a grand old SARK and MCP to be sure. As for where we're going we should be able to get what we need to help with our little problem. Her bike returns to the baton from which it came. It snaps back on to her leg as she gets moving with the group. <br /><br /> "Insert foot A into Mouth Port B, Faruja?" <br /><br /> She can't help but take this chance to poke at him. She meanwhile looks about doing head count, to make sure no one got lost.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird has spent years around bikes. She is familiar with their operation and how to Not Die while riding one. Yet eventually the trip ends and she manages, somehow, to cause her bike to collapse back into a baton... which she hides in an inside pocket of her coat.. Then... Deelel spoke. TRON... SARK MCP. These names are Strange... yet hold a ring of familiarness to her. TRON was also Bradly's nickname when Flynn was around. Sark... Sark was't that from one of the games Flynn made? MCP.<br /><br />!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />She... wait. "This... We're in..." She tried speaking, articulate hat had jolted through her brain. "Master Control Program, as in what was running the Encom mainframe and primary network right before Flynn took over?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON drives the Light Cycle expertly, lagging more towards the back to assist Maira and Faruja with keeping the enemy at bay. Usually by using his bike's Jet Walls to herd the enemy into the Gummi Grenades. Turned out to be relatively effective, all things considered, but TRON feels a strange wobble in the front end that has only gotten worse since they've left the Arcade. It seems the damage suffered from past usage is affecting such things as handling. <br /><br />When they arrive in Purgos, he notices the billboards alright, the sheer number of them reflecting off of the canopy of his Light Cycle. But there is always a story, a matter of perception and perspective... and he feels like he's /missing/ something. Like he should know but simply... doesn't. <br /><br />Right. The Other. Must be some strange feedback or something. <br /><br />The blue old-style Light Cycle, predating anything on /this/ Grid if the assortment of modern-day Light Cycles in their convoy is of any indication, grabs a lot of attention by itself. Most don't even know what it is, but if the rider is with the convoy, they don't want to get anywhere close. It just proves that they're way too conspicuous out in the open like this. <br /><br />His Light Cycle dissipates and he lands on the ground with practiced ease, looking around with neither his stance nor his visor giving any indication of his thoughts nor identity. He only gives Beck a quick handshake before the Renegade runs off, then he motions to everyone else. <"Let'z ztick together and get out of the ztreet."> <br /><br />To Blackbird, he simply shakes his head. <"Negative. That iz..."> His voice trails off for a moment, then back as if nothing had happened. <"That iz another matter entirely. But there iz no time to explain now."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur angles the bike well. He's ridden a bucking chocobo. This is much smoother. He doesn't have any way to communicate with the other pairs - instead beaming along solo. Then they are coming to a stop. He manages, by sheer accident, a bootlegger's turn. Appropriate for a man who spent some of his younger days selling snake oil out of a caravan. The smith's feet find the ground and he immediately stows the rod in the band of his belt, where a sword would go. But he carries no sword. <br /> <br />The forgemaster takes small chips of light out of his pocket. Once this was a powder, now it seems to have digitally congealed. As the others come to a stop, presumably to reconnoiter, Mr. Drover begins planting the chips in a wide circle, like a druid's ritual of warding or a magician's conjuring trick. He does not appear to be attentive. He is counting under his breath, measuring his steps. Something like string is drawn from his pack, once it was a loop of fire imp hair, now it is something else- shimmering like fresh-laid solder. His archer's gloves, made glowing by the reality of this place, handle it well. He loops it around a few of the little pips. The entire thing does not take long. It is much like a hunter setting snares - because it is. <br /> <br />"Miss, my sympathies. Ye'll have to come to the forge for a drink when this is over. You know this world. You give me an order and I'll follow it, and I know that goes double for my young charges." Here he points at Paulo, Avira, Maira, voice somewhat harsher. <br /> <br />"No time for big questions - but perhaps a little one, what is our route of escape? For that matter, how'd we get in here?" <br /> <br />He's peeking into bins, behind buildings in bad repair, never going an inch out of view of the group, but he speaks amid constant movement. This is a habit his "forge buddies" would be familiar with. <br /> <br />When Tron says no time to explain, the older man's ears perk, and he turns, all attention and keenness. <br /> <br />But a few gold colored chips are thrown down one corridor, where they stick to the ground and erect sharp points. No civilians around, time to use the nasty tools.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Admittedly, Eric never found the brakes, but a good wind spell would do whenever he needed it! Or whenever he needed to blast some red-lines away! He shared Paulo's reaction of 'suuuuuuuuuuuure!' to Faruja's embarassment, the sage and black mage practically in-sync. Yup, totally liking this kid. As Eric rolled to a stop, a gale abated, whipping up what little might be whipped up in this strange world. As the light cycle vanished, he darted up to Maira squealing, "I KNOW, RIGHT?!!!"<br /><br />As his fellow ex-nezu dug his hole deeper, he couldn't help but chuckle, "Ohohoho, so Ser Senra has 'hotties' on the side?"<br /><br />Okay, yeah, he totally didn't get that that was a name, but he was still pulling the Templar's leg. Faru made it too easy!<br /><br />As Eric looked around at the billboards, however, his mood changed entirely.<br /><br />"Oh my..." he squeaked. He'd rather depleted his magic with all the saves he had to pull on himself to prevent a crash - he wasn't sure how much use he would be now.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron held on to Paulo throughout the ride, also marvelling at the speed and sights of the virtual city around them. Its quite beautiful. Her arms are tightly linked around Paulo's sides, not wanting to be knocked out or slip out by accident. At this speed, it'd be dangerous. "Its remarkably stable at this speed." She notes to him or noone in particular really.<br /><br />She hops off the cycle on arrival, smoothing her skirt down a bit after the ride "Is the exit here, or did we just go even deeper into danger?" She wonders. She thrusts TRON knowing more than she does at least, but it doesn't make it any less worrisome when you end up in the middle of 'enemy territory' like that...<br /> <br /> :'''[[Avira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Looks like Avira never got the chance to use the toy Arthur gave her moments before. Avira's actually alright with that meaning she gets to save it for later. She'll save that bike for later too, even if she can't use it in the real world. <br /><br />Assuming they all get back to the real world at some point. Right now, though, it seems like they're a little stuck. <br /><br />"Low profile. Right. Got it." Avira's steps are swift and every now and then she looks over at Maira who was no doubt acting a little crazy right now. <br /><br />"So I'm hoping you can answer now that a little of the heat is off." Avira speaks up, directing her words to Beck. "What do you mean by 'Strays'?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi observes to Serah, "My sage-like senses tell me-- deeper into rabbit hole." Or is it chocobo's nest? There is a nod that is given to Beck-- he didn't doubt the program it is just that this all seems too surreal. So surreal that he might as well take everything literal. He adds in with the informational pow wow as he tries to keep a low profile in his extravagent robes-- "I am also curious. Just the name itself-- an unwanted creature. In a place this structured... I get it things won't end well if we get captured. So-- another thought. Where is 'out' exactly? I'll defer to friends as to where we are going, but I'd like to know a bit about our escape plans here. Even mountains fade to enough wind."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja opens his muzzle, and it just hangs there. The Templar's head just /hangs/ as that question sits in the air. He feels about five inches tall. Eric and Deel don't help. Make that two inches. <br /><br /> "...Hati has the form of a sleek dancer, slim and lithe, and powerful! Wild and strong! /You/, my dear, have the form of an actress: fetching, lovely, and with a natural warmth and comfort that makes thy hugs pleasant and enjoyable! Both of you are utterly beautiful, and frankly 'tis a wonder these male Programs are not bowing down before thy beauty!" Save! <br /><br /> Faruja nods to TRON. "Mmm, the poor quarter then." Ex-rat tank go? He stays in front of Maira protectively, single eye peering about as he listens to the others.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird frowned and scuffed a toe at the not-ground. The supposition FIT. THey looked in a very VERY space-paranoids like world. The Laser looked a lot like the SHIVA ENCOM was experimenting with way back about the sametime. And now The three initials of a thing ENCOM didn't really speak about much given at the time there were accusations of unauthorized networking into SAC and other even worse things. She didn't believe half of it but she knew a Master Program that was sortof a super traffic cop DID exist at one point right before... Her brow furrowed and she wans't quite sure where she was. After all she had to dig deep for all this old obscure info she only lerned about from refurbishing a bunch of the old mainframes kept in the boneyard. Funny. Flynn's desk had gone missing awhile back. Well mroe desk sized minicomp similar to the one that was back at the arcade. No that wans't this it just happened to be a popular formfactor..<br /><br />"Low Profile. Nothing ofrigins." Blackbird was a sortof distracted monotone at this point. "No magic, or at least nothing flashy." Slow nod. "I hear you." No she didn't. She was trying to make sure two plus two didn't end up equelling Fish.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira has always wanted to ride a light cycle. Well, for as long as she's known about them. So...well, months. STILL! It was really awesome. <br /><br /> Maira grins to Eric, even though he's being kind of a butthead, then grows more sober. She walks over to Deelel and places a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, watching Beck as he moves off to try to help them out. Yes, they are terribly conspicuous. <br /><br /> Maira then looks to Faruja, and facepalms, turning red. "Okay okay Faruja, I get it I get it..." she grumbles, punching him quite lightly in the arm before she wanders over toward Arthur, watching him curiously. "Whatcha doing?" she asks, head canted to the side slightly in question, hands clasping behind her back.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi heard 'No flashy magic' somewhere in there. Did it register? Maybe. Maayyyybeeee.<br /><br />The young man looks back to Faru and gives him a hearty slap on the square of his back, "Relax. Low profile. Like... ninja. Or a treasure hunter. Moreso a ninja." Ninja.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel thinks the idea of getting off the street is a good one, and Faruja's suffering continues to suffer eternally from the rest of the party she can't help but be amused with it. She tilts her head to Serah for a moment. <br /><br /> "Not really we got a chance to make our lives easier..." <br /><br /> The mention of Strays by AVIRA get her looking at her. She's going to let someone else field that, who know the subject better. It's not a present thing to think about really, also an old nightmare comes up. The faded memory of seeing friends here being experimented upon by a mad version of herself was something hard to forget. <br /><br /> "You are correct Paulo." <br /><br /> She looks back to Faruja for a moment and she laughs at Faruja's attempt to get himself out of trouble. <br /><br /> "So what does that make me hummmm?" <br /><br /> She looks to Blackbird for a moment and nods. She's sizing up the situation things go through her mind like her home is it still there? Or has it been idled out and re-purposed for something else? She'll have to go check later there could be supplies there, failing that it be a place to hide out. Also she'd have to check the grimmest thing on her mind. Is anyone she cares about still alive or did they all get cubed? No first focus on the living if Cel and the others are all right currently they should be able to wait a few cycles longer. She keeps an watchful eye on on the rest of the group and hopefully they can find what they seek. A way to either get them light suits and hopefully find fake or if they are lucky real discs for them.<br /> <br /> :'''[[TRON]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>TRON leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and resting the flat of one foot against the surface. He watches Arthur secure their location with traps and such, but doesn't relax despite that, still keenly looking around just in case. <br /><br /><"I believe, Avira..."> He hestitates, relying on the data he has. <"CHIEF once told me that Programz advanced to the point where they muzt have a Dizc in order to hold all their data."> He motions towards assorted Purgos Programs hanging around. <"Thuz, if zuch a Program iz zeperated from their Dizc, they zoon forget who they are and what their function iz. Thuz, they become a 'Ztray' until they are reprogrammed with a new purpoze."> <br /><br />He takes his Silver Disc off of his back and idly twirls it between his fingers again. The lines on it are glowing and it hums ominously. <"Doez that make zenze?"> <br /><br />He cants his helm briefly to the others. <"Az for an ezcape route... I do believe that iz what the Renegade iz looking into. It zeemz we are zafe for the time being."><br /> <br /> :'''[[Oblivion]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck had a rough road to hoe. Most of the Sirens here didn't even want to deal with him. Most of his connections had dried up thanks to CLU's forces and Tesler's actives while he had been gone. Some even went as far to tell him that he abandoned them.<br /><br /> However, Beck would get his chance at last, including bring the Siren slowly to the group.<br /><br /> As for the others. They got a rather quiet, uneventful time. Beyond a few people who lurked and watched. It seemed none of the guards were coming and the people were to frightened to get near the group who was associated with the Renegade.<br /><br /> Yet. Slowly Beck would return with a female in high heels, silver short hair, blue glowing eyes, and a white skin tight suit, that was almost silver in color with bright white lines over her body. She glances at the ground, before looking to the Renegade, then to them. "...there is so many of you.. you poor things.." She then steps forward before placing out her hand. "My name is Aurora. Please come with me." Her hand then returns to her side, before she walks past the Renegade and back into the shadows of the alley with only her light lines giving away her location.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja taps his chin after rubbing his arm, now quite satisfied at /not/ getting slapped. See, he's not Ivo! Paulo speaks, and the rat wobbles. <br /><br /> "...Stealth hath never been my forte. I prefer charging into the battle of love and beauty!" <br /><br /> He leans into Deel. Whisper whisper. "Athletic, stalwart, and a most determined figure!" Pause. Peer. "Graceful, yet warm...Mmm. A Cleyran dancer, were thee a nezumi!" <br /><br /> Then, they're off, and Beck comes back with a Lady. All the techno-talk goes over his head. He bows. "M'Lady." Follow the Lady in white!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Blackbird]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Blackbird bowed to Aurora but said nothing. She hand't really been paying attention to what was going on, but this lady seemed friendly enough and this is wehre they were headed. Plus if it was a trap assumptions of her harmlessness would be vastly innacurate.. "Uh Deelel, Tron... Miss Aurora, Is there like a data cube or book or something i can sift through?" She smiled softly, "Memory's a bit fuzzy and always good to keep a copy of what's what on hand. Don't want to go blank when something important gets brought up."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Paulo Mysidi]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Paulo Mysidi follows Beck but shares Faru's love of dramatics. "When we get out of here-- we need to train together and come up with a combo. Like-- fiery lancer stab of love and justice. Or something smaller-- like Holy Prism Lance." Chin rub. Then he motions to Maira, "We improv'd one once. That was hot." Literally, hot. Like a supernova. Poor Horned King.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Beck]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> <br /> Beck does return with a Siren, but the Renegade remains quiet. He waits for everyone to go ahead, before he checks their backs to make sure they wont be followed. He already warned her this would become a normal ordeal. People coming in probably now.<br /><br /> So the Siren would need to stay clean and help those who would come to her. She seemed ok with this and he was thankful that she still believed in what he was trying to do.<br /><br /> So once everyone goes. Beck will follow.<br /><br /> <span class=" bold_fg_w bg_n ++ hw">CONGRATULATIONS!!</span> <br /><br /> You all obtain a identity disc and new light suit cloths!<br /><br /> Now you can look like a program and walk around with your identity discs! It even comes with fancy program handles if you so want one. Huzzah!<br /> <br /> :'''[[Maira]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Maira laughs softly at Faruja and Paulo, nodding. "Yes, we did. That was pretty great!" she agrees before turning her attention to the approaching program. She curtsies. In jeans. Whatever. "Nice to meet you Aurora, I'm Maira...um, okay," she says, then would follow, shrugging lightly<br /> <br /> :'''[[Serah Farron]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Serah Farron notices that the new program, Aurora, is a girl. Well, its not surprising in itself, she knows about Deelel after all. But seeing TRON and Aurora like that makes her wonder if genders really matter in this world, like in her world...<br /><br />Not that she wants to ask... That'd be rude.<br /><br />She sighs at her own curiosity, but follows in stride "Are we really safe here though... I'm worried..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Deelel]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Deelel she notices the Siren, Beck has found, this is stroke of luck, they get hopefully get legit discs from this. She knows it may cost a good bit but she's willing to pay. Given you can't put a price tag on helping to keep your friends heads intact, right? Faruja's comments get a grin behind her face plate as she's leaned into by Faruja nad he makes her compliment. She seems in a good mood as she shuffles after the groups. The Siren gets a look over for a short moment. <br /><br /> "I am in your debt Aurora." <br /><br /> She's relaxing now and just looking about the place and the others a she tilts her head. <br /><br /> "Even before I got lost? This was not a spot that security liked to go if it didn't have to. It's the bad part of town more or less." <br /><br /> her helmet snaps back from where it came as did her cloak, she just kinda flops down. <br /><br /> "As for energy I'll see about getting us some tanks of it, it should be easy enough."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Arthur Drover]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Arthur spends some time receiving explanations, but sleep and family are calling him away, so with brief parting, and an explanation to the others about the traps laid out - he meanders homeward - there's much to be done tomorrow.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-08-06T00:30:17Z

<p>Megkitty87: Added Relationship Chart</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> |footer=Fell into Traverse Town and met Faruja Senra.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and his brothers were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> =Relationship Chart=<br /> ==Family==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Laurana "Laurie" Celene Taylor<br /> | Sister (NPC)<br /> | "..... I fear I have wronged you too greatly to expect your forgiveness, even if I had only the best of intentions at the time. I should have known better, and I hope that you yet live that I might make amends for my ignorance..."<br /> |-<br /> | Johnathan Taylor<br /> | Brother-in-law (NPC)<br /> | "...I only wish I'd seen the goodness in your heart sooner, and pray that you somehow survived, but as a guardsman... you would have been at the fore of the defense, wouldn't you?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Friends==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Mogina<br /> | Housekeeper (NPC)<br /> | "What incorrigible staff I keep! Although I suppose I would be alone in the world if not for you..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Acquaintances==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Faruja Senra<br /> | Helpful!<br /> | "You are a good and honorable nezu, and I am most grateful for your assistance... but I will have a most delightful time finding out just how far your patience will go..."<br /> |}<br /> ==Blood Relatives==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | Eric Bartholomew Mimsy II<br /> | Father (NPC)<br /> | "..... We may share a name, you may have my fear, but you will own me no more!"<br /> |-<br /> | Celene Norena Mimsy<br /> | Mother (NPC)<br /> | "You never really loved us, did you? True, you certainly went through the motions in rasing us, but... I've since learned that mothers actually /protect/ their children, even from their husbands..."<br /> |-<br /> | Cedric Connor Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "Hah! You change religions faster than I sell furniture! I have no respect for a nezu who cannot decide even on his own principals! ...although I suppose your principals are entirely political, aren't they?"<br /> |-<br /> | Derrick Rowan Mimsy<br /> | Brother (NPC)<br /> | "You... You are as adept at crafting the opinions of others as our father, but I still know you from when we were children. Have you really transformed into an honorable dragoon?"<br /> |}<br /> ==Enemies==<br /> {| border="1" cellpadding="2"<br /> |-<br /> ! Name<br /> ! Status<br /> ! Opinion<br /> |-<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> | N/A<br /> |}<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-08-05T14:49:07Z

<p>Megkitty87: Recent Events</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> |footer=Fell into Traverse Town and met Faruja Senra.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and his brothers were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/A_Noblerat_Drops_In A Noblerat Drops In 2013-08-01T20:11:07Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Log Header<br /> |Date of Scene=2013/07/28<br /> |Location=Traverse Area - Traverse Town - WildKat Cafe<br /> |Synopsis=Faruja Senra is enjoying some beer at the Wildkat Cafe when a most unexpected visitor literally drops into a nearby alleyway. Burmecian nobleman Eric Bartholomew (Mimsy the Third) has only just reentered normal existance, with little recollection of Burmecia's fall at the hands of Alexandria save the initial explosion. After explaining the situation over beer (and being nearly incited to maul the man for a brief moment) Faruja offers to help Eric get back to his home in Lindblum.<br /> |Cast of Characters=Faruja Senra, Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III<br /> |pretty=yes<br /> }}<br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Traverse Town, with its sky constantly set to nighttime, made it rather hard to tell whether it really was night or not. Nevertheless, a black-and-white spotted cat was seeking a meal from a trashcan in one of the alleyways. Quite suddenly, with naught but a brief 'pop' sound of warning, something dropped from the night sky and landed in a pile of potato sacks right next to the trash can, causing it to fall over and the cat to flee with a startled yowl. Whatever it was didn't move or make a sound immeadiatly, so perhaps a concerned bystander should go check on whatever it is. The something was the size of a tall human, although once one got a good look at him they could tell he was anything but. He was a rather tall nezumi, six foot even, and was quite clearly unconscious. His clothes were rather odd for a Burmecian or a Cleyran - a fine black suit that seemed to have recently been sent through a wildfire filled with vicious animals. The jacket had several gashing rips in it, although one could tell none had made it through the white shirt he wore underneath from the lack of blood, and the entire ensemble was covered in ash with a few scorch-marks pock-marked into it. His black hair was entirely in disarray, a black top-hat in the same condition as his suit laying a half foot from the top of his head, and the tips of his ears had minor burns on them. A simple shepherd's-crook cane lay in a limp and open palm, which oddly radiated magic despite being nearly snapped in two, and the white spats upon his feet were scuffed as well as cloaked in ash. He remained unconscious, mouth gaped open with his head tilted back off the edge of the pile of rucksacks, completely alone. Or... not entirely alone - one who was sensitive to spirits could probably hear a faint, panicked cry for help.<br />Who would respond?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja Senra may not be able to hear spirits, but his ears work just fine. The sound of a yowling cat and someone crashing down in an alleyway is a relatively common occurance for those simply unlucky. Plastinger on a smile as he walks, slightly wobbly, from the Serendipity, the Templar manages to look not-smashed enough as he approaches the prone form. <br /><br /> His single eye widens a touch, as the rat notices what appears to be a fellow nezumi! "Be thee quite alright, Ser?" Calls out the Burmecian, already laying on with a solid Curaga and Regen spell upon the other male. A clawed hand is offered to the fallen nezumi...even as he inwardly cringes. The man's clothing practically /smelled/ of nobility. <br /><br /> 'Even noble scum deserve help at their lowest.' Thinks the rat to himself.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>At the query to his health, as well as the sudden surge of white magic, the prone noblenezu groaned into wakefulness. He sat up, blinking blearily with near-black blue eyes at the proferred hand.<br /><br />"Ah, thank you good sir," he muttered, a little slurred at first, but as the white magic took effect his voice became clearer as his eyes came more into focus. He took the Templar's hand, likewise cringing inwardly at the sheer volume of /religion/ screaming off his armor... although... was he /drunk/? Well well, that was interesting.<br /><br />"Heh, I suppose even Churchnezu indulge in these trying times. Eric Bartholomew at your-" he began to give a flourishing bow, but as he did so he noticed two things. One, the hat he was reaching for was no longer on his head. Two... his suit was ruined.<br /><br />"/Sweet Mother of Mercy!/" he loudly squeaked at this latter observation, eyes radiating honest surprise and indignation at the state of his attire as he jumped about a half foot into the air. He froze momentarily, emotion suddenly vacating his eyes as his expression went rigid and calculated. He smiled warmly, although it never quite met those eyes that appeared to be naught but a pair of marbles at the moment, and said, "Well, I suppose you chased off whatever foul beast did this to me, so I suppose I owe you my gratitude. Might I inquire as to what that explosion from earlier today was abou-"<br /><br />He blinked, noticing the architecture for the first time, and his eyes took up a look of honest confusion as he looked around and muttered to himself, "...This isn't Burmecia..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Well met Ser Bartholomew. Lord guide thee and protect thee! Temple Knight Faruja Senra, likewise. Yes, if I have but one vice, 'tis..." Returns the rat, not bothering with the bows for the moment as he looks the man over. Frowning, he finally notes the soot and general /burnt/ look. Then, his fellow countryman shrieks, causing the Templar to wince and cover his ears. Alcohol and sensitive ears don't mix well with sounds. <br /><br /> "Dear Lord! Come now, be calm! 'Tis hardly a...beast, Ser?" Understanding, at least in part, dawns. For a moment, the rat looks chilled. "No, 'tis not Burmecia at all I am afraid. Come with me." In but a few motions, there's a set of green robes draped over Eric to cover the damaged suit, as well as the rest of the bottle of booze he'd been drinking. Eric will need it more than him. <br /><br /> Faruja starts leading Eric to the Wildkat Cafe,pulling up a chair for the man, then depositing himself in one. <br /><br /> "What was the last think you can remember? This is the town of Traverse. If...'twas of home..." He can't hate the man right now, if his theory's correct. A deep sigh. "'Tis no more. The Alexandrians destroyed it."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Thoroughly confused now, Eric allows Ser Senra to drape him in robes and guide him, the soot-covered male taking a sniff of the bottle handed to him and making a bit of a face. Eric wasn't entirely a fan of beer... or drinking after others. He held onto the bottle, though, for no particular reason other than the feeling of cold dread radiating off of Ser Senra. Not Burmecia? That was perposterous - he was walking from the merchant's district not several hours ago... according to his assumption based on the sky. And where /was/ the rain that perpetually cast down on their fair city of birth? The cold dread was contagious, and Eric's only defense was to blithely ignore it. He accomplished this by inspecting the architecture with a little more awareness - it wasn't terribly dissimilar to that of Lindblum, but dissimilar enough that he could dismiss that theory. He'd lived in Lindblum for two years, after all.<br /><br />Upon entering the bar and being pulled a seat, Eric took it, setting the bottle of alcohol down on the table. He didn't think he'd have need of it. That feeling lasted for not even a second after Ser Senra's report.<br /><br />"Destroyed???" he asked, incredulous, then chuckled and said, "Don't be ridiculous, Burmecia can't be gone, and the Alexandrians have no reason..."<br /><br />Even so... Eric took a swig of the beer, and even as he tried to arrange his face into blithe amusement (after making a face at the taste of the beer), the glass mask over his eyes cracked, showing the creeping fear of the truth.<br /><br />"The last I remember... I was walking from the merchant's district - I'd spent two years in Lindblum, you see, and only just got back, so I needed some furnishings for a house and wares for the store - and there was an explosion off in the poor quarter..." he remained in ruminative silence, eyes taking on a distant look. Then he blinked, looked at Faru, and said with a shrug as he took another swig, "'Tis all..."<br /><br />That... wasn't entirely true. After the memory of the explosion, Eric could feel a wall of fear, panic, screaming, chaos, and... He was afraid to look any farther.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja sighs, shivering lightly as he sits. Remembering the horrible truth all too vividly, he lets his fellow nezumi slowly wake up. Part of him wants to leave Eric ignorant of it all. But he knows deep down it will only hurt his countryman in the long run. Better to give him the blunt, honest truth now than to let him be shocked into it later at the worst possible time. <br /><br /> Though his face is a stern mask, his tail trembles as fear, loss, and rage fill him upon recalling those days. "No doubt. The Alexandrians assaulted the walls, took them upon our weakest point; the poor distract. Once breached, they called upon their fell heartless and Black Mage Daemons, whom consumed and lit aflame civilian and soldier alike. By the time myself, Lady Fray, and the rest of my squad arrived, the entire area was swarmed. We were ambushed while trying to lead several of the Sisters of Silence and other civilians to safety." <br /><br /> A grin, humorless and bitter marks his muzzle. "...His Highness and the Royal Dragon Knights fled the city. 'Twas the last before my sight, aside from my squad being devoured as the Alexandrian soldiers looked on. Then, those Mages, well..." Faruja motions to his bandaged head.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric nodded numbly to himself as he listened to Ser Senra's explanation of events - it made perfect logical sense, if one ignored the lack of motive. He'd heard rumors in Lindblum that the Alexandrian Queen was... odd... so perhaps she /had/, in fact, snapped. Or mayhaps not entirely, to have successfully sacked the entirety of Burmecia.<br /><br />"I suppose it does make sense - they must have swept through rather quickly to catch me up in it where I was..." Eric said, taking the edge of a sleeve of his ruined suit between two figners. He rather doubted he'd ran /towards/ the battle... except perhaps for one thing, but even then he'd never fancied himself a brave enough nezumi.<br /><br />At Faru's accusation towards the King, however, Eric narrowed his eyes in a confused and mildly irked manner as he said, "I doubt our King would have abandoned Burmecia lightly... or with anything less than a heart weighted down in sorrow for those left behind. Was he right there with you in the poor district? Did you see some look of cowardice cross his brow as he turned with his Dragon Knights in retreat?"<br /><br />He folded his arms then, and quirked an eyebrow at Ser Senra as he observed, "It sounds to me like you wish to place blame at his feet."<br /><br />Eric wondered to himself when he became the King's staunch defender - he'd become a bit infamous in Lindblum for making jokes about His Royal Highness, and had begun to attain the same reputation in Burmecia. He had never, however, been terribly afraid to poke someone in a sensitive spot, and this Templar struck him as masking some sort of rage on that front. Of course Eric always wished to avoid the unpleasant reactions that generally ensued, but that somehow never seemed to deterr him no matter how many times he crossed that invisible line that would land a fist in his face.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> ERic's definitely caught Faruja at the wrong time. Standing up, slamming both hands on the table, he cracks the wood as sharp claws dig into the material. "He left our people to rot when we needed him most! Leaders do not flee while their people die, they fight, or at the very least they lead them to safety! Not run while the city lays besieged!" Booze and the reminder of days gone by have him yelling. Several people stare. Breathing heavily, the rat slumps down into his seat. <br /><br /> "...It does not matter now. Only the survival of our people does."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric just about jumped out of his seat and shielded his face with his arms - yes, /definitely/ not quite the time to bring that up - fully expecting to be soundly clocked by a gauntlet-clad fist. As Ser Senra yelled instead, however, Eric lowered his arms slightly and listened, trembling slightly. As the Templar sat back down looking quite exhausted from his rage, Eric lowered his arms, and he nodded, "Yes... that is certainly what matters..."<br /><br />Eric thought for a moment - he'd only /barely/ avoided gaguing Ser Senra's strength the painful way, so he really shouldn't be irking the knight any furth-<br /><br />"So, how go your conquests on that front?" Eric said, placing both elbows upon the table, his chin in both hands, and smirked with eyebrows raised sugguestively.<br /><br />..... Even he knew he was a great clodding idiot. No, he was not recovered entirely from the shock of Burmecia being gone. On the contrary, this was his default coping mechanism for almost everything - poke people until he finds the magic 'I will punch your face in' button. Funny thing was, he'd always had the pain-tolerance of a paper napkin. Another funny thing was that he had a similarly low tolerance for most things /that variety/ of indecent, but he could certainly dance around the subject well enough that none would suspect such.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja's arm goes back, claws out-stretched, the Burmecian looking just about to remove the noble's face. Just as he's about to swing, with a supreme force of will, he stops himself. No. He wouldn't hurt a fellow countryman when they've just fallen out of the ruins of his home. Even a noble. Even one as monumentally stupid as to prod the rat on the issue. <br /><br /> Faruja sits back down, eye narrowed, smiling. "We have enlisted several allies, and even now make overtures to others. So too do we train with weapons far more destructive than those upon our world. When the hammer blow of Burmecia and its allies falls, Alexandria shall be crushed utterly." His words are absolute. It seems the rat has great belief in his people.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>/'Steady does it,'/ Eric told himself as Faruja's arm went back, fixing a look of nonchalance on his face as his heart pounded in terror of impending disfigurement, casually placing his arms upon the table so he could duck more easily if the need arose. The nezu hadn't even lifted a fist during his tirade about the King - let's see just how far he'll go. His eyebrows raised in surprised as Faru's arm lowered. Well well, Churchnezu had some /supreme/ force of will there - most males whose primary instinct on that matter was violent protest didn't have the discipline to check themselves, and even fewer had the discipline to do so while quite plainly /drunk/. Faruja Senra was a profoundly noble-hearted male of any sentient race, if not merely among nezumi. Color Eric's respect gained... which was most unfortunate for dear Faruja - Eric teased those he respected to a near-merciless degree. He would quite enjoy learning what all the buttons on this particular Burmecian were.<br /><br />"Quite," Eric said, boomeranging straight back to serious, "After an assault such as that we can't well let them off unscathed or with the run of Gaia."<br /><br />At least that was a front upon which they agreed... even if most Burmecians still living or with any common sense would.<br /><br />Oh, and Faru, you have quite forgotten to mention one quirky thing about this whole situation...<br /><br />"I suppose my next course of action should be to pay a visit to Lindblum," Eric said, nodding to himself as he sipped the beer, which actually was growing on him, much to his own surprise. "I still have a store and home there, unless of course Alexandria has destroyed Lindblum as well. Of course they can't have had time to assault them, unless they assaulted both Lindblum and Burmecia simultaneously."<br /><br />Alright, perhaps two things...<br /><br />"Where on Gaia are we, anyway?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Indeed. However, 'tis become more troublesome. They now have allies." Pausing, Faruja sighs, and continues. His tail stills, traces of his earlier anger gone. After a long look at the nobleman, the Burmecian again speaks. <br /><br /> "Though mayhaps you shan't believe it...Lord knows I spent the first three weeks believing all about me insanity...Gaea no longer exists. Currently, only the lands of Alexandria, Cleyra, and Lindblum remain since our world's fall into Darkness. It resides within the 'World of Ruin', a mixture of multiple lands that hath survived their own world's fall. This is the land of Traverse, a seperate place, whereupon many worlds meet...and those lost oft turn up. Such as thyself, for instance. Though Burmecia's fall may seem as yesterday, 'twas more than a year's passing for myself." <br /><br /> Letting it all sink in for a moment, he nods. "Go to Lindblum, the Alexandrians and their allies Baron and the Empire hath naught conquered it yet...though methinks 'tis only a matter of time before they strike. Should it be necessary, I shall provide transportation." Offers the rat.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric sighed. "Is it not always thus?" It seemed that, every time one enemy appeared, ten more sprang up behind it. Not that Eric had ever fought before, at least to his recollection.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric Bartholomew says, "Do... do you honestly expect me to believe that we are presently sitting in one of several interconnected multiverses, and that I have been asleep God knows where for the past /year/???""<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric sighed. "Is it not always thus?" It seemed that, every time one enemy appeared, ten more sprang up behind it. Not that Eric had ever fought before, at least to his recollection.<br /><br />As Ser Senra recounted the absurd impossibility of the world they now found themselves in, Eric's eyes grew larger and larger, his brows knitting together first in perplexity, second in concern, and finally ended in complete and utter incredulity. His head tilted to one side, and had his brain melted as he felt it had it would have come dribbling out of his ear.<br /><br />"Do... do you honestly expect me to believe that we are presently sitting in one of several interconnected multiverses, and that I have been asleep God knows where for the past /year/???"<br /><br />And then Eric did something that would probably startle several bar patrons. He laughed, in great, rolling, squeaky, utterly hysteric giggle-fits. Several probably wondered if Chip and Dale were somewhere close by pulling pranks on the unsuspecting, but likely not - this was nezu-laughter... or at least Eric's laughter. If nezu laughed such they probably typically grew out of this squeaky laughter. After about a minute of completely and utterly losing his head, Eric's laughter suddenly cut off, and he sat up, adjusted the greed robes back upon his shoulders, and cleared his throat, "My apologies... I have no reason to disbelieve you aside from that... well... it /sounds/ like rather a large piece of insanity to be the least bit true."<br /><br />At the offer of transportation, Eric momentarily appeared to be about to politely decline but, after a moment more of thought, he sighed, "I suppose that would be best - if what little remains of Gaea is truly hodge-podged in with the remains of other worlds, I would likely get lost navigating it on my own."<br /><br />He reached into his pocket, saying, "The least I can do is cover your bar tab, it-" but he cut off as he withdrew a hand and looked at the distinct not-gil-ness of the bits of paper in his hand. He momentarily appeared as if one about to go on a tirade, but he stopped, chuckled good-naturedly, and said, "Let me guess, the fairies of this universe replace all coinage with this... I do hope this is legal tender..." If not there were some fairies he needed to have a /firm/ and potentially /fiery/ discussion with. While it was true he wouldn't miss it overly much, he didn't much care for pickpockets, and at the moment he had no access to the rest of his funds in Lindblum. He could assume what he'd left at his temporary accomodations in Burmecia were a complete and absolute loss... which was a shame, but not something he couldn't recover from with time. Besides, he was fortunate to have anything at all to return to.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja patiently waits through the disbelief, and the laughter. The ratling expected it. The Templar waves a hand dismissively. "Nay, nay. 'Tis insanity, truly. Yet so too 'tis the truth. My advice? Think naught overmuch upon it. Find what remains of thy life, and cling to it with all thy strength, Ser Bartholomew." <br /><br /> A swift nod, and finally Faruja smiles. "Excellent. 'Twould be my honor to see thee to somewhere familiar." He glances about. "Traverse has never been to my liking. Too dry, too unchanging." <br /><br /> A small chuckle exits the rat's muzzle, and he stands. "As thee wish, Ser, and thank thee for the kindness. Entirely legal, though hardly satisfying. Give me a solid gold gil rather than.../paper/." Luckily, he hadn't really drank /too/ much. Tonight was cheap beer night. <br /><br /> Standing, the rat motions to follow. "Come, let us find thee a hotel for the night. 'Tis only one, and free. Though, do not remain out past ten. Heartless roam the halls. The rooms are safe, however."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric nodded to Faruja's advice to cling to what he had left, that was what he planned to do, after all. He momentarily wondered how much Faruja had left of his previous life. Eric nodded again, entirely oblivious to the oddity of Traverse Town's sky, "Yes, Lindblum's a bit parse for rain as well, but..." he paused, eyes looking distant a moment, but then he shrugged with a grin, "'Tis not as dry as other places." He was suddenly glad he'd decided against moving to Alexandria those two years ago - that would have writ him a grave disaster now that Alexandria and... the remnants of Burmecia were enemies.<br /><br />He sighed relief upon hearing the paper actually /was/ accepted as money, "Good, t'would not do to be a penniless noble," and paid Ser Senra's tab at the first opportunity.<br /><br />When Faruja stands and motions for him to follow, Eric does so rather dutifully, taking up the tattered hat and broken cane he had brought with him from the alley. All things that would have to be replaced, but that would come in good time.<br /><br />"T'would never think of it..." Eric said, getting a mild tingle up his spine as he wondered what exactly a Heartless was. He had an ominous feeling he'd once known the answer and hadn't liked it at all... but perhaps that was only because Ser Senra's tone made them sound plenty dangerous, especially coming from an experienced warrior such as himself. Eric would ask in the safety of daylight... and keep his room locked.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/A_Noblerat_Drops_In A Noblerat Drops In 2013-08-01T20:00:26Z

<p>Megkitty87: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/07/28 |Location=Traverse Area - Traverse Town - WildKat Cafe |Synopsis=Faruja Senra is enjoying some beer at the Wildkat Cafe when a most unex..."</p> <hr /> <div>{{Log Header<br /> |Date of Scene=2013/07/28<br /> |Location=Traverse Area - Traverse Town - WildKat Cafe<br /> |Synopsis=Faruja Senra is enjoying some beer at the Wildkat Cafe when a most unexpected visitor literally drops into a nearby alleyway. Burmecian nobleman Eric Bartholomew (Mimsy the Third) has only just reentered normal existance, with little recollection of Burmecia's fall at the hands of Alexandria save the initial explosion. After explaining the situation over beer (and being nearly incited to maul the man for a brief moment) Faruja offers to help Eric get back to his home in Lindblum.<br /> |Cast of Characters=Faruja Senra, Eric Bartholomew<br /> |pretty=yes<br /> }}<br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Traverse Town, with its sky constantly set to nighttime, made it rather hard to tell whether it really was night or not. Nevertheless, a black-and-white spotted cat was seeking a meal from a trashcan in one of the alleyways. Quite suddenly, with naught but a brief 'pop' sound of warning, something dropped from the night sky and landed in a pile of potato sacks right next to the trash can, causing it to fall over and the cat to flee with a startled yowl. Whatever it was didn't move or make a sound immeadiatly, so perhaps a concerned bystander should go check on whatever it is. The something was the size of a tall human, although once one got a good look at him they could tell he was anything but. He was a rather tall nezumi, six foot even, and was quite clearly unconscious. His clothes were rather odd for a Burmecian or a Cleyran - a fine black suit that seemed to have recently been sent through a wildfire filled with vicious animals. The jacket had several gashing rips in it, although one could tell none had made it through the white shirt he wore underneath from the lack of blood, and the entire ensemble was covered in ash with a few scorch-marks pock-marked into it. His black hair was entirely in disarray, a black top-hat in the same condition as his suit laying a half foot from the top of his head, and the tips of his ears had minor burns on them. A simple shepherd's-crook cane lay in a limp and open palm, which oddly radiated magic despite being nearly snapped in two, and the white spats upon his feet were scuffed as well as cloaked in ash. He remained unconscious, mouth gaped open with his head tilted back off the edge of the pile of rucksacks, completely alone. Or... not entirely alone - one who was sensitive to spirits could probably hear a faint, panicked cry for help.<br />Who would respond?<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja Senra may not be able to hear spirits, but his ears work just fine. The sound of a yowling cat and someone crashing down in an alleyway is a relatively common occurance for those simply unlucky. Plastinger on a smile as he walks, slightly wobbly, from the Serendipity, the Templar manages to look not-smashed enough as he approaches the prone form. <br /><br /> His single eye widens a touch, as the rat notices what appears to be a fellow nezumi! "Be thee quite alright, Ser?" Calls out the Burmecian, already laying on with a solid Curaga and Regen spell upon the other male. A clawed hand is offered to the fallen nezumi...even as he inwardly cringes. The man's clothing practically /smelled/ of nobility. <br /><br /> 'Even noble scum deserve help at their lowest.' Thinks the rat to himself.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>At the query to his health, as well as the sudden surge of white magic, the prone noblenezu groaned into wakefulness. He sat up, blinking blearily with near-black blue eyes at the proferred hand.<br /><br />"Ah, thank you good sir," he muttered, a little slurred at first, but as the white magic took effect his voice became clearer as his eyes came more into focus. He took the Templar's hand, likewise cringing inwardly at the sheer volume of /religion/ screaming off his armor... although... was he /drunk/? Well well, that was interesting.<br /><br />"Heh, I suppose even Churchnezu indulge in these trying times. Eric Bartholomew at your-" he began to give a flourishing bow, but as he did so he noticed two things. One, the hat he was reaching for was no longer on his head. Two... his suit was ruined.<br /><br />"/Sweet Mother of Mercy!/" he loudly squeaked at this latter observation, eyes radiating honest surprise and indignation at the state of his attire as he jumped about a half foot into the air. He froze momentarily, emotion suddenly vacating his eyes as his expression went rigid and calculated. He smiled warmly, although it never quite met those eyes that appeared to be naught but a pair of marbles at the moment, and said, "Well, I suppose you chased off whatever foul beast did this to me, so I suppose I owe you my gratitude. Might I inquire as to what that explosion from earlier today was abou-"<br /><br />He blinked, noticing the architecture for the first time, and his eyes took up a look of honest confusion as he looked around and muttered to himself, "...This isn't Burmecia..."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Well met Ser Bartholomew. Lord guide thee and protect thee! Temple Knight Faruja Senra, likewise. Yes, if I have but one vice, 'tis..." Returns the rat, not bothering with the bows for the moment as he looks the man over. Frowning, he finally notes the soot and general /burnt/ look. Then, his fellow countryman shrieks, causing the Templar to wince and cover his ears. Alcohol and sensitive ears don't mix well with sounds. <br /><br /> "Dear Lord! Come now, be calm! 'Tis hardly a...beast, Ser?" Understanding, at least in part, dawns. For a moment, the rat looks chilled. "No, 'tis not Burmecia at all I am afraid. Come with me." In but a few motions, there's a set of green robes draped over Eric to cover the damaged suit, as well as the rest of the bottle of booze he'd been drinking. Eric will need it more than him. <br /><br /> Faruja starts leading Eric to the Wildkat Cafe,pulling up a chair for the man, then depositing himself in one. <br /><br /> "What was the last think you can remember? This is the town of Traverse. If...'twas of home..." He can't hate the man right now, if his theory's correct. A deep sigh. "'Tis no more. The Alexandrians destroyed it."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Thoroughly confused now, Eric allows Ser Senra to drape him in robes and guide him, the soot-covered male taking a sniff of the bottle handed to him and making a bit of a face. Eric wasn't entirely a fan of beer... or drinking after others. He held onto the bottle, though, for no particular reason other than the feeling of cold dread radiating off of Ser Senra. Not Burmecia? That was perposterous - he was walking from the merchant's district not several hours ago... according to his assumption based on the sky. And where /was/ the rain that perpetually cast down on their fair city of birth? The cold dread was contagious, and Eric's only defense was to blithely ignore it. He accomplished this by inspecting the architecture with a little more awareness - it wasn't terribly dissimilar to that of Lindblum, but dissimilar enough that he could dismiss that theory. He'd lived in Lindblum for two years, after all.<br /><br />Upon entering the bar and being pulled a seat, Eric took it, setting the bottle of alcohol down on the table. He didn't think he'd have need of it. That feeling lasted for not even a second after Ser Senra's report.<br /><br />"Destroyed???" he asked, incredulous, then chuckled and said, "Don't be ridiculous, Burmecia can't be gone, and the Alexandrians have no reason..."<br /><br />Even so... Eric took a swig of the beer, and even as he tried to arrange his face into blithe amusement (after making a face at the taste of the beer), the glass mask over his eyes cracked, showing the creeping fear of the truth.<br /><br />"The last I remember... I was walking from the merchant's district - I'd spent two years in Lindblum, you see, and only just got back, so I needed some furnishings for a house and wares for the store - and there was an explosion off in the poor quarter..." he remained in ruminative silence, eyes taking on a distant look. Then he blinked, looked at Faru, and said with a shrug as he took another swig, "'Tis all..."<br /><br />That... wasn't entirely true. After the memory of the explosion, Eric could feel a wall of fear, panic, screaming, chaos, and... He was afraid to look any farther.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja sighs, shivering lightly as he sits. Remembering the horrible truth all too vividly, he lets his fellow nezumi slowly wake up. Part of him wants to leave Eric ignorant of it all. But he knows deep down it will only hurt his countryman in the long run. Better to give him the blunt, honest truth now than to let him be shocked into it later at the worst possible time. <br /><br /> Though his face is a stern mask, his tail trembles as fear, loss, and rage fill him upon recalling those days. "No doubt. The Alexandrians assaulted the walls, took them upon our weakest point; the poor distract. Once breached, they called upon their fell heartless and Black Mage Daemons, whom consumed and lit aflame civilian and soldier alike. By the time myself, Lady Fray, and the rest of my squad arrived, the entire area was swarmed. We were ambushed while trying to lead several of the Sisters of Silence and other civilians to safety." <br /><br /> A grin, humorless and bitter marks his muzzle. "...His Highness and the Royal Dragon Knights fled the city. 'Twas the last before my sight, aside from my squad being devoured as the Alexandrian soldiers looked on. Then, those Mages, well..." Faruja motions to his bandaged head.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric nodded numbly to himself as he listened to Ser Senra's explanation of events - it made perfect logical sense, if one ignored the lack of motive. He'd heard rumors in Lindblum that the Alexandrian Queen was... odd... so perhaps she /had/, in fact, snapped. Or mayhaps not entirely, to have successfully sacked the entirety of Burmecia.<br /><br />"I suppose it does make sense - they must have swept through rather quickly to catch me up in it where I was..." Eric said, taking the edge of a sleeve of his ruined suit between two figners. He rather doubted he'd ran /towards/ the battle... except perhaps for one thing, but even then he'd never fancied himself a brave enough nezumi.<br /><br />At Faru's accusation towards the King, however, Eric narrowed his eyes in a confused and mildly irked manner as he said, "I doubt our King would have abandoned Burmecia lightly... or with anything less than a heart weighted down in sorrow for those left behind. Was he right there with you in the poor district? Did you see some look of cowardice cross his brow as he turned with his Dragon Knights in retreat?"<br /><br />He folded his arms then, and quirked an eyebrow at Ser Senra as he observed, "It sounds to me like you wish to place blame at his feet."<br /><br />Eric wondered to himself when he became the King's staunch defender - he'd become a bit infamous in Lindblum for making jokes about His Royal Highness, and had begun to attain the same reputation in Burmecia. He had never, however, been terribly afraid to poke someone in a sensitive spot, and this Templar struck him as masking some sort of rage on that front. Of course Eric always wished to avoid the unpleasant reactions that generally ensued, but that somehow never seemed to deterr him no matter how many times he crossed that invisible line that would land a fist in his face.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> ERic's definitely caught Faruja at the wrong time. Standing up, slamming both hands on the table, he cracks the wood as sharp claws dig into the material. "He left our people to rot when we needed him most! Leaders do not flee while their people die, they fight, or at the very least they lead them to safety! Not run while the city lays besieged!" Booze and the reminder of days gone by have him yelling. Several people stare. Breathing heavily, the rat slumps down into his seat. <br /><br /> "...It does not matter now. Only the survival of our people does."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric just about jumped out of his seat and shielded his face with his arms - yes, /definitely/ not quite the time to bring that up - fully expecting to be soundly clocked by a gauntlet-clad fist. As Ser Senra yelled instead, however, Eric lowered his arms slightly and listened, trembling slightly. As the Templar sat back down looking quite exhausted from his rage, Eric lowered his arms, and he nodded, "Yes... that is certainly what matters..."<br /><br />Eric thought for a moment - he'd only /barely/ avoided gaguing Ser Senra's strength the painful way, so he really shouldn't be irking the knight any furth-<br /><br />"So, how go your conquests on that front?" Eric said, placing both elbows upon the table, his chin in both hands, and smirked with eyebrows raised sugguestively.<br /><br />..... Even he knew he was a great clodding idiot. No, he was not recovered entirely from the shock of Burmecia being gone. On the contrary, this was his default coping mechanism for almost everything - poke people until he finds the magic 'I will punch your face in' button. Funny thing was, he'd always had the pain-tolerance of a paper napkin. Another funny thing was that he had a similarly low tolerance for most things /that variety/ of indecent, but he could certainly dance around the subject well enough that none would suspect such.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja's arm goes back, claws out-stretched, the Burmecian looking just about to remove the noble's face. Just as he's about to swing, with a supreme force of will, he stops himself. No. He wouldn't hurt a fellow countryman when they've just fallen out of the ruins of his home. Even a noble. Even one as monumentally stupid as to prod the rat on the issue. <br /><br /> Faruja sits back down, eye narrowed, smiling. "We have enlisted several allies, and even now make overtures to others. So too do we train with weapons far more destructive than those upon our world. When the hammer blow of Burmecia and its allies falls, Alexandria shall be crushed utterly." His words are absolute. It seems the rat has great belief in his people.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>/'Steady does it,'/ Eric told himself as Faruja's arm went back, fixing a look of nonchalance on his face as his heart pounded in terror of impending disfigurement, casually placing his arms upon the table so he could duck more easily if the need arose. The nezu hadn't even lifted a fist during his tirade about the King - let's see just how far he'll go. His eyebrows raised in surprised as Faru's arm lowered. Well well, Churchnezu had some /supreme/ force of will there - most males whose primary instinct on that matter was violent protest didn't have the discipline to check themselves, and even fewer had the discipline to do so while quite plainly /drunk/. Faruja Senra was a profoundly noble-hearted male of any sentient race, if not merely among nezumi. Color Eric's respect gained... which was most unfortunate for dear Faruja - Eric teased those he respected to a near-merciless degree. He would quite enjoy learning what all the buttons on this particular Burmecian were.<br /><br />"Quite," Eric said, boomeranging straight back to serious, "After an assault such as that we can't well let them off unscathed or with the run of Gaia."<br /><br />At least that was a front upon which they agreed... even if most Burmecians still living or with any common sense would.<br /><br />Oh, and Faru, you have quite forgotten to mention one quirky thing about this whole situation...<br /><br />"I suppose my next course of action should be to pay a visit to Lindblum," Eric said, nodding to himself as he sipped the beer, which actually was growing on him, much to his own surprise. "I still have a store and home there, unless of course Alexandria has destroyed Lindblum as well. Of course they can't have had time to assault them, unless they assaulted both Lindblum and Burmecia simultaneously."<br /><br />Alright, perhaps two things...<br /><br />"Where on Gaia are we, anyway?"<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> "Indeed. However, 'tis become more troublesome. They now have allies." Pausing, Faruja sighs, and continues. His tail stills, traces of his earlier anger gone. After a long look at the nobleman, the Burmecian again speaks. <br /><br /> "Though mayhaps you shan't believe it...Lord knows I spent the first three weeks believing all about me insanity...Gaea no longer exists. Currently, only the lands of Alexandria, Cleyra, and Lindblum remain since our world's fall into Darkness. It resides within the 'World of Ruin', a mixture of multiple lands that hath survived their own world's fall. This is the land of Traverse, a seperate place, whereupon many worlds meet...and those lost oft turn up. Such as thyself, for instance. Though Burmecia's fall may seem as yesterday, 'twas more than a year's passing for myself." <br /><br /> Letting it all sink in for a moment, he nods. "Go to Lindblum, the Alexandrians and their allies Baron and the Empire hath naught conquered it yet...though methinks 'tis only a matter of time before they strike. Should it be necessary, I shall provide transportation." Offers the rat.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric sighed. "Is it not always thus?" It seemed that, every time one enemy appeared, ten more sprang up behind it. Not that Eric had ever fought before, at least to his recollection.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric Bartholomew says, "Do... do you honestly expect me to believe that we are presently sitting in one of several interconnected multiverses, and that I have been asleep God knows where for the past /year/???""<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric sighed. "Is it not always thus?" It seemed that, every time one enemy appeared, ten more sprang up behind it. Not that Eric had ever fought before, at least to his recollection.<br /><br />As Ser Senra recounted the absurd impossibility of the world they now found themselves in, Eric's eyes grew larger and larger, his brows knitting together first in perplexity, second in concern, and finally ended in complete and utter incredulity. His head tilted to one side, and had his brain melted as he felt it had it would have come dribbling out of his ear.<br /><br />"Do... do you honestly expect me to believe that we are presently sitting in one of several interconnected multiverses, and that I have been asleep God knows where for the past /year/???"<br /><br />And then Eric did something that would probably startle several bar patrons. He laughed, in great, rolling, squeaky, utterly hysteric giggle-fits. Several probably wondered if Chip and Dale were somewhere close by pulling pranks on the unsuspecting, but likely not - this was nezu-laughter... or at least Eric's laughter. If nezu laughed such they probably typically grew out of this squeaky laughter. After about a minute of completely and utterly losing his head, Eric's laughter suddenly cut off, and he sat up, adjusted the greed robes back upon his shoulders, and cleared his throat, "My apologies... I have no reason to disbelieve you aside from that... well... it /sounds/ like rather a large piece of insanity to be the least bit true."<br /><br />At the offer of transportation, Eric momentarily appeared to be about to politely decline but, after a moment more of thought, he sighed, "I suppose that would be best - if what little remains of Gaea is truly hodge-podged in with the remains of other worlds, I would likely get lost navigating it on my own."<br /><br />He reached into his pocket, saying, "The least I can do is cover your bar tab, it-" but he cut off as he withdrew a hand and looked at the distinct not-gil-ness of the bits of paper in his hand. He momentarily appeared as if one about to go on a tirade, but he stopped, chuckled good-naturedly, and said, "Let me guess, the fairies of this universe replace all coinage with this... I do hope this is legal tender..." If not there were some fairies he needed to have a /firm/ and potentially /fiery/ discussion with. While it was true he wouldn't miss it overly much, he didn't much care for pickpockets, and at the moment he had no access to the rest of his funds in Lindblum. He could assume what he'd left at his temporary accomodations in Burmecia were a complete and absolute loss... which was a shame, but not something he couldn't recover from with time. Besides, he was fortunate to have anything at all to return to.<br /> <br /> :'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:'''<br><span></span> Faruja patiently waits through the disbelief, and the laughter. The ratling expected it. The Templar waves a hand dismissively. "Nay, nay. 'Tis insanity, truly. Yet so too 'tis the truth. My advice? Think naught overmuch upon it. Find what remains of thy life, and cling to it with all thy strength, Ser Bartholomew." <br /><br /> A swift nod, and finally Faruja smiles. "Excellent. 'Twould be my honor to see thee to somewhere familiar." He glances about. "Traverse has never been to my liking. Too dry, too unchanging." <br /><br /> A small chuckle exits the rat's muzzle, and he stands. "As thee wish, Ser, and thank thee for the kindness. Entirely legal, though hardly satisfying. Give me a solid gold gil rather than.../paper/." Luckily, he hadn't really drank /too/ much. Tonight was cheap beer night. <br /><br /> Standing, the rat motions to follow. "Come, let us find thee a hotel for the night. 'Tis only one, and free. Though, do not remain out past ten. Heartless roam the halls. The rooms are safe, however."<br /> <br /> :'''[[Eric Bartholomew]] has posed:'''<br><span></span>Eric nodded to Faruja's advice to cling to what he had left, that was what he planned to do, after all. He momentarily wondered how much Faruja had left of his previous life. Eric nodded again, entirely oblivious to the oddity of Traverse Town's sky, "Yes, Lindblum's a bit parse for rain as well, but..." he paused, eyes looking distant a moment, but then he shrugged with a grin, "'Tis not as dry as other places." He was suddenly glad he'd decided against moving to Alexandria those two years ago - that would have writ him a grave disaster now that Alexandria and... the remnants of Burmecia were enemies.<br /><br />He sighed relief upon hearing the paper actually /was/ accepted as money, "Good, t'would not do to be a penniless noble," and paid Ser Senra's tab at the first opportunity.<br /><br />When Faruja stands and motions for him to follow, Eric does so rather dutifully, taking up the tattered hat and broken cane he had brought with him from the alley. All things that would have to be replaced, but that would come in good time.<br /><br />"T'would never think of it..." Eric said, getting a mild tingle up his spine as he wondered what exactly a Heartless was. He had an ominous feeling he'd once known the answer and hadn't liked it at all... but perhaps that was only because Ser Senra's tone made them sound plenty dangerous, especially coming from an experienced warrior such as himself. Eric would ask in the safety of daylight... and keep his room locked.</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-23T12:19:37Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and his brothers were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-23T12:17:52Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and they were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mages and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T18:19:24Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy 9<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote=Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle.<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and they were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mage Dolls and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T18:08:50Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy IX<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote="Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle."<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and they were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mages: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mage Dolls and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T18:08:15Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs. (approx.)<br /> |series=Final Fantasy IX<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote="Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle."<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and they were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> =Abilities=<br /> -Magic-<br /> <br /> Black Magic: He uses it more often for parlor tricks and his own convenience than actual combat, but one must not underestimate his proficiency in wielding it offensively when required. He’s also been adding to his mental cache of spells since the fall of Burmecia, his most recent acquisition being a tome of Teleport, which he’s looking forward to putting to use in humoring himself while pestering others.<br /> <br /> -Physical-<br /> <br /> Burmecian: Although not even remotely of a melee class, his race’s natural talents provide him with high agility, which he uses to become a magic-throwing Dodge Monkey. This makes up for his paper-thin defenses, but only if he manages not to get hit, for his physical defenses really are lacking, and his mobility is significantly hampered by pain.<br /> <br /> Uncanny (Magical) Accuracy: Honed to a fine point over years of doing parlor tricks with his magic for sheer fun, he can land a spell almost anywhere from any distance his magic can propel it.<br /> <br /> -Other-<br /> <br /> This Little Light of Mine: If one has the vision with which to see spirits, looks hard enough, and is lucky, they can see a tiny, incandescent little sphere of white light following Eric everywhere he goes. This little light does nothing, and he can’t see it himself, but it follows him doggedly nevertheless, hovering vigilantly at his side while emanating a sense of worry and pleading with the universe. On occasion, he twitches an ear and looks nervously in its general direction, but generally shrugs off whatever nerves the benevolent presence gives him.<br /> <br /> Beserker Mage: A powerful multi-elemental attack that gives his natural magical abilities a boost. He is at present unaware he even has this ability. See Flaws – Sleep-casting<br /> <br /> -Flaws-<br /> <br /> Low Pain Tolerance: Living a life of luxury doesn’t exactly prepare oneself for the occasional scrapes and bumps of normal life, nevermind the more significant wounds of battle. Although he had a crash-course in pain he’s too terrified to remember, his pain tolerance is somewhere annoyingly close to ‘Mommy I have a booboo’, even by his own standards. Although something as small as a paper cut or tiny splinter only serves to irritate him, anything like a small cut from a knife will send him in some form of unmanly tears to the nearest nurse or healer at the first reasonable opportunity. However, it is surprising what will make him pick himself up and rush headlong back into the fray with magic ablaze. Perhaps living in this uncertain world will toughen him up a bit.<br /> <br /> Sleep-casting: There are very few nights that pass for him nowadays without some magical mishap or other, and typically the mishap involves scorched furniture. Screaming the name of a girl he doesn’t even remember, he goes straight into Beserker Mage mode and starts casting all of his magic at the surrounding area in wild, blind, grieving rage. It seems to mainly be triggered by a recurring nightmare, and can sometimes be kept at bay if he exhausts his magic reserves before he goes to sleep, but since sleep replenishes those reserves it is far from a guarantee.<br /> <br /> Phobia – Alexandrian Black Mage Dolls: Although some nezumi fear the magic wielded by those that devastated Burmecia, Eric fears the wielders of that magic. This fear manifests itself as anything from a frozen, staring stance drenched in cold sweat, to gibbering terror, to outright fleeing, to a partial or full repeat of what happens when he Sleep-casts. It appears that these demons have at least something to do with his night-terrors…<br /> <br /> Phobia – Heartless: Look too similar to Alexandrian Black Mage Dolls and were involved in the attack on Burmecia, but he’s not quite as afraid of them (yet).<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T17:51:04Z

<p>Megkitty87: /* Personality */</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs.<br /> |series=Final Fantasy IX<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote="Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle."<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and they were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp and a trickster. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> <br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T17:49:47Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=130 lbs.<br /> |series=Final Fantasy IX<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote="Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle."<br /> }}<br /> =History=<br /> Eric Bartholomew Mimsy III was born into gold-gilded, richly extravagant, silver-spoon-in-mouth hell. His parents, being entirely concerned with promoting the status of the Mimsy family, raised their four children to be impeccably well-mannered, clean, and disciplined. They paid special care to the tutoring of their eldest, who unfortunately happened to be Eric himself. For the first dozen or so years of his life, he went along with their demands on his youth in a desperate bid for their approval, learning every skill they threw at him no matter how much it dragged on his soul. He showed some small promise in the art of Black Magic at a young age, and his parents insisted on him learning from a master. Although he was at that point exhausted from the extensive studies he was already undertaking, he relented to their wishes, but he took to Black Magic very quickly and began studying it out of sheer enjoyment rather than obligation. When he was twelve years old, he and his siblings were taken to a party at the royal palace, where he was presented to His Royal Highness, The King of Burmecia. Eric, feeling understandably nervous, immediately asked where the bathrooms were as he felt like being ill. Although his parents acted in good spirits and humor for the rest of the party, once they got him home they let him know just how disgusted they were with words that burned his ears to hear. His brothers watched on with haughty looks on their faces, while his sister merely stared at the floor.<br /> <br /> From then on, his parents treated him with indifference regardless of how well he did, while their expectations and hopes shifted to his brothers, since his sister was the youngest and they were a set of twins. Eric’s tutelage in Black Magic officially stopped there, but since he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the one thing aside from his parents’ approval that made him happy he studied in private, taking to the streets to practice his more rambunctious magic. It was there he gathered a following of admirers – children who had never seen displays of elemental magic before came to watch the young noble who could make fire dance between his palms. He basked in their admiration, coming up with increasingly spectacular tricks to impress them. Right up until he accidently set fire to one of the market stands. He’d put it out straight away, but it had burned so large so fast that all of the merchandise on display had been destroyed and the stand scorched black, so his parents were informed of the damages by the city guard. Even more admonishments were rained on his head for his carelessness and, more important to them, his fraternization with commoners. He was told never to associate with commoners again, to which he promised, since his audience had all either fled, ratted him out, or glared at him in hatred. He figured they thought he’d done it on purpose, and with the rumors flying around his thinking was only confirmed. But they were just rumors – his parents easily stomped out the blight on their name, and no charges had been brought forth.<br /> <br /> Eric spent years afterward trying to be as unnoticeable and unobstructive to the glory of the Mimsy name as he could. Then, almost two years ago, his resolve on this snapped. The reasons for this were quieted, but the resulting row had Eric packing his bags and taking off to Lindblum on an airship. He spent a year building a small business there – a store which specialized in interior décor – before coming back to try his luck in Burmecia. He’d been walking out of the merchant’s district, having just purchased some merchandise he hoped to sell in his new store and furnishings for his possible new home, when the first explosion in the Alexandrian attack occurred. He does not recall what happened next, but he was whisked out of his world through darkness and deposited into this one with battered clothes cloaked in the smell of ash, one seriously bad headache, and his magic mysteriously sputtering on empty.<br /> =Personality=<br /> The first thing one should realize about Eric is that, for all his appearance of classiness, he is foremost an imp, a trickster, or – put in more modern terms – a world-class troll. He is rather indiscriminate in this fact – whether you’re friend or foe, rich or poor, powerful or weak, he will almost always be finding some way to push one’s buttons or test the limits of one’s patience. He’s seldom entirely direct or honest about anything, playing his cards close to his chest while letting others assume what they want about him. He also very, very, very much likes to show off, especially with his magic. In fact, he has thus far used his Black Magic more often for entertainment and convenience than for actual combat, to the point that any decent Black Mage should probably smack him. It appears his goal in life right now is mostly to have fun.<br /> <br /> In all honesty, Eric would like to have a friend and be a good person, but he views himself as inadequate in both regards and uses his flippant, careless façade to keep others from expecting anything of him. Or perhaps it’s a test to see who’s putting up with him for potential money or self-gain, who’s got the patience to deal with him, and who genuinely wants to stick around in spite of his behavior. He actually rather admires those who possess virtues he finds himself lacking, even while he’s teasing them to within an inch of their patience. Although he has been a merchant for almost a year now, he has a peculiar habit of sometimes goading shopkeepers into charging him higher prices, and as strange as it sounds this actually is on purpose – he typically does this when he feels a merchant or craftsman is cheating themselves out of what they and their merchandise are worth. If he can’t be successful in convincing the craftsman that he’s an evil, pompous noble who needs to be overcharged, his typical strategy is to give the merchant more money than was charged and leave in a huff before they can say anything. When push comes to shove, he will come to the aid of those that he would consider friend or those he recognizes as deserving of and needing defending, even complete strangers. He just tries as hard as possible to pretend he’s only helping because he just feels like it, putting on a devil-may-care attitude even as his heart pounds in gibbering terror.<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T17:32:27Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=128 lbs.<br /> |series=Final Fantasy IX<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=Unaffiliated<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote="Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle."<br /> }}<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T17:22:43Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=128 lbs.<br /> |series=Final Fantasy IX<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=N/A<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote="Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle."<br /> }}<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T17:21:31Z

<p>Megkitty87: </p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy III<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=128 lbs.<br /> |series=Final Fantasy IX<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=N/A<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbying Magician<br /> |quote="Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle."<br /> }}<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87 http://finalkingdom.net/wiki/index.php/Eric_B._Mimsy_III Eric B. Mimsy III 2013-07-19T17:19:53Z

<p>Megkitty87: Created page with "{{Character Infobox |firstname=Eric |middlename=Bartholomew |lastname=Mimsy |age=24 |species=Burmecian |sex=Male |height=6'0" |weight=128 lbs. |series=Final Fantasy IX |styles..."</p> <hr /> <div>{{Character Infobox<br /> |firstname=Eric<br /> |middlename=Bartholomew<br /> |lastname=Mimsy<br /> |age=24<br /> |species=Burmecian<br /> |sex=Male<br /> |height=6'0"<br /> |weight=128 lbs.<br /> |series=Final Fantasy IX<br /> |styles=Black Mage<br /> |hometown=Burmecia<br /> |alignment=Wandering Force<br /> |group=N/A<br /> |occupation=Noble/Merchant/Trickster/Hobbyist Magician<br /> |quote="Having the best of everything isn't all it's cracked up to be - it makes all the small happiness in the world seem such a trifle."<br /> }}<br /> = Logs =<br /> {{Character Logs}}<br /> = Cutscenes =<br /> {{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}</div>

Megkitty87