[Nexus] Inside 27

[Darkcomet]

Current events:
-The Empire's ban on LANTERN activities within its territory is still in effect.
-The Imperial Army has withdrawn from the Red Zone, leaving patrolling the area to the ISF.

Rules and locations in the spoiler. Please Spoiler any fan service written in this thread. Thank you.

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All standard forum rules apply here, as do the godmodding rules generally agreed upon on this sub-forum.

Locations
PM Darkcomet to have a new location placed in this registry.

A note on the 'Zones'.

The Blue Zone is the area of the greatest Imperial presence, housing the Imperial Army and ISF HQs and boasting the greatest concentration of Imperial influence. Physically, it's located in the center of the city.

The Yellow Zone has some Imperial influence, but it's not as significant, so crime rates there are higher than in the Blue Zone. The Yellow Zone is physically located at the outskirts of the city, with the justification of having to keep an eye on what's coming in and out of the city, and thus the main concentrations of Imperial influence in the Yellow Zone are at the docks and city gates.

The Null Zone is around midway between Yellow and Blue, and lacks much Imperial influence, with a similar patrolling situation to the Red Zone below. Despite this, it's largely a quiet environment.

Perhaps it is because the Red Zone, a blemish on the otherwise neatly-organized Zones, is essentially a fancy term for the crime infested slums? Who knows! The Red Zone is essentially just the slums, independent of the neat physical arrangement of the others, though DC imagines it's around Null/Yellow, physically, since it wouldn't make all that much sense for the Red Zone to be right on top of ISF HQ of all things. The Empire's influence here is light, but not completely nonexistent, with occasional speeder patrols.

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Imperial Bases

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Acro-Imperial Army HQ (Blue Zone)

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The Imperial Army HQ itself is a massive dome-like structure in the center of the city. The building itself is fairly standard at ground level, but going up from there is when you reach the dome. The dome is the focus of the visible structure, and is capable of housing one of the Empire's oh-so-loved airships.

The main building itself also has underground portions, as it's not like the rest could contain everything a building of this purpose needs.

This building, however, has concrete walls surrounding it at a sizable distance in a square shape, with gates in the center of each segment. The walls have rapid-fire laser turrets mounted at corners and on each side of each gate. Interlopers beware!

ISF HQ (Blue Zone)

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Go here!

Acro-Imperial Civil Government Complex (Blue Zone)

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The main center of the Empire's central government is an odd complex composed of five main structures.

The more notable four are a group of futuristic, utopian-looking towers arranged in the shape of a Y, with the tower taking the position of the center joint being significantly taller than the outer three towers, by about 40% of the other towers' height. This is harder to make out than it seems, however, due to the odd nature of the fifth 'structure'.

This one is actually surrounding the lower two-thirds of the outer three towers, with all four appearing to be coming out of it from the outside. It resembles an odd set of walls, following along the Y-arrangement of the towers. These 'walls' are in the shape of a highly irregular hexagon. The top side, with the two points of the top of the Y within, is fairly long, with two shorter segments heading downward at an obtuse angle from them. These are very short, and two more long wall segments soon move downward and inwards, speaking from a bird's-eye view, ending a bit after the edge of the bottom tower in the Y-arrangement. A final long segment links these two ends.

However, the 'walls' are not merely walls, but actually enclose the area around the towers, with their own roof. The four towers seemingly erupt out of the top of this structure, while they do actually have the rest of them beneath it. The wall-like structure is built around the towers, linking to them at certain points. The structure is not merely that shape described previously with a flat roof, however-the walls reach to a certain point, then slant upwards and inwards, again from a bird's-eye view. The upward slant stops at the edges of the outer three towers, and from there now forms a flat area, this flatness marred only by the towers.

There are three main entrances to the odd complex, each at the center and bottom of one of the longer wall segments. These are oversized sliding doors, essentially. Each is a long, dull metal slab in appearance. When the entrance is open, these are drawn upward into the wall-structure, and when closed, they drop back down like blast doors.

The complex is guarded by normal military and ISF elements alike, landspeeders patrolling the ground outside with the silent gunships patrolling the skies above. The main soldiers guarding the area are ISF troopers, as they are more specialized for urban warfare. Several rapid-fire pulse laser turrets (laser chaingun turrets, essentially) are mounted on the slanted portions of the outer structure, with a single heavy turbolaser turret mounted at the upper central area of each slanted area of the longer sides.

There are two enclosed bridge-like structures linking each of the three outer towers to the main building. The lower one is within the wall-esque structure, and the upper one is visible from the outside, linking the upper areas of the outer towers with the main, central one. To avoid confusion, there are two of these per outer tower, putting the total count at six.

Imperial Docks (Yellow Zone)

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These rather typical drydocks hold the Imperial naval fleet. Due to its relative lack of size, the Imperial Navy falls under the Imperial Army's authority.

Evolution Industries Headquarters + Factories (Player: Darkcomet, Blue Zone)

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The headquarters of the company known as Evolution Electronics and Power is a fairly standard-looking modern-day tower in appearance, not quite reaching the level of skyscraper.

The company owns a large factory nearby, used in production of its MACE units, and potentially other products, should it be desired.

The company also possesses a number of other factories around the city, used for production of weaponry and other military materiel.

Retail outlets for Evolution's products are scattered around the city.

Trader's Trove (Player: EleventhHour, Null Zone)

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A large, crashed starship lies in what was once a park, now ruined by its crash.

The ship is very strange to most, resembling Gothic architecture, particularly cathedrals, in appearance, while at the same time being a spacefaring craft. Or, rather, a former spacefaring craft.

The ship remains in use, however. The owner is a Rogue Trader, and is currently using the ship as a shop.

Erin's Emporium (Player: The Bushranger, Yellow Zone)

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Construction Gnomes have been hard at work renovating a small store along one of the various merchantile roads. Well, it was small. Now it's bigger on the inside.

And filled with every sort of weaponry imaginable, from across the multiverse. From blaster carbines to P-90s, surface-to-air missiles to ballistas, zats to nunchucks, they're all here.

Is that a siege crossbow sitting in the corner?

The Misspelled Cemetary (Null Zone)

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It's the rain that makes for the perfect atmosphere.

Since the party left the well lit cobbles lanes of the Market Streets the sky has opened up upon our intrepid band of adventurers with a vengeance. The wind howls through barren trees as the rain descends in sheets. The heavens are split by a ribbon of lightning and a roar of thunder.

A massive cast iron gate surrounds this place of once hallowed ground. Yes, hallowed once but no longer. The earth appears dead. Rotten. A phosphorescent green fog creeping along the ground. Misshapen fungus and molds clinging to crumbling monuments. Corpses exposed on the surface, half-eaten with decay.

The gate creeks open of its own accord as the party nears.

And above the gate, in rusted iron letters, reads:

The Misspelled Cemetary

The Misspelled Cemetary is largely ruins now, due to the battle against Ebon Mirror, an evil Exalt that used it as his base of operations.

MagMart (Player: Lord Magtok, Blue Zone)

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An absurd mash-up of K-Mart, Wall-Mart, Target, and every other vile retail chain, MagMart is staffed by an unswervingly loyal Magbots, lobotomized talking cats that are too brain-dead to know any better, several voodoo spirits, and a pickle jar that everyone insists is a sentient being that only communes with those who truly believe in it.

Here you can find everything from curtains to carpets, macaroni to monkeys on motorcycles, groceries to zombies. The staff is always happy to help (or else), and if you aren't entirely satisfied with your shopping experience, you can pay a small fee to watch the MagMart employee of your choosing get fired out the MagMart complimentary employee morale cannon.

Pontius' Custom Constructs (Player: Earl of Purple, Null Zone)

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The caravan of 6 wagons (I never said 3! Well, I did, but still.) arrives at a warehouse, previously for sale. The gnomes lead the golems and other constructs inside, and get to work. The warehouse has an open yard at the main entrance, and several golems, like crude figures of worked stone or wood, stand in the yard. A gnome wearing an apron over smart-yet-practical artesan's clothes and puts a sign up.


Pontius's Custom Constructs
Golems of Any Material* at Unbelievably Low Prices!!!**
You Won't Find a Golem, Gargoyle, Guardian or Homonculus Cheaper!!***
Come Now and Buy 1 Get 1 Full Price!!!****



*Flesh has an additional charge. **Define 'low'. ***Except at our competitors. ****Terms and conditions apply.

Sanctuary Fortress of Zoemaytare (Player: Rebonack, Red Zone)

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Like so many other prominent buildings in Town, or not so prominent buildings for that matter, this place seemed to pop up out of nowhere over night.

Buildings are like mushrooms in Town. Probably spread via spores, too.

Regardless, here it is. A rather sizable campus marble hewn from the mountains some distance away. Carved and hauled here near the edge of the slums where they were no doubt assembled. Though... no one can quite place a finger on when this happened.

Though the buildings aren't of only cold hard stone, no. There are timbers as well. Not what one might expect, however. They seem almost organic. As though they had grown into place rather than being hewn.

Oddness aside, the temple is arranged in a rather interesting fashion. Several concentric wall and courtyards ending in a central temple.

The outer wall is lower than the rest, each tier of the temple built onto higher ground like a wedding cake. Each wall is topped with a roof supported on the inside by pillars, creating a sheltered walkway. The exact use of these porches depends on the section of the temple one happens to be in.

Anyone is allowed entry through the first wall and into the first court, the Court of Meeting. Beyond the second wall only worshipers of Zoemaytare are allowed admittance to the second court, the Court of the Blessed. Beyond the third wall only the priests are allowed, where they carry out holy rituals within the temple itself.

The Court of Meeting is dedicated to service of those the worshipers of Zoemaytare dwell among. Food is prepared for the hungry here and given out without expectation of recompense. Those without a place to lay their head are allowed to sleep within the porch. The grounds beyond the porch are devoted to a wondrous garden boasting vibrancy and spectacular color. This are is always comfortably warm and brimming with life. Wounds heal faster as the body is refreshed. Undead creatures will find that remaining here is decidedly uncomfortable.

The sky above the temple seems to be perpetually clear, filled with pleasant sunlight in the day and cloaked with gossamer stars at night. Benches are set up here and there, under trees with hanging branches and above fragrant shrubbery. A lively stream flows endlessly in a circuit about the Court, spilling into several larger pools and meandering up a small outcrop of stone before cascading back down the other side.

This section of the temple is tended by members of the faith. Not priests, though devote. They can be found tending the garden and serving warm food. When in service to the temple these devotees wear a white linen ephod bearing the symbol of a willow tree, ornately rendered in blue thread. They'll be more than happen to answer any questions. Priests tend to have stricter ceremonial garb, including a blue tunic and white robe in addition to the ephod.

Welcome, traveler. May you be more blessed when you leave than when you came.

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New information that isn't readily noticeable at first glance at the temple will be added here.

The temple grounds are protected by a dampening field that blocks unauthorized teleporation and dimensional shifting. The place is something of a fortress after all. Being able to pop in and out at will would defeat the purpose.

Zoemaytare isn't a god of (fill in the black) but rather the patron and protector of her people. As such, her domain, if she even has one, is over all that her people do. The people in question are collectively known as the Zoeos, and this particular temple is their first major venture into Town. At present their stated goal is to set up trade relations and aid the city. This is ministered through the temple on account of the Zoeos government being a theocracy.

It just so happens that there's a dungeon under the temple, though the entrance to it is well hidden.

NPCs thus far:

Potentate of the temple: the head priest and administrator. He has yet to be seen 'on screen' though he has been referred to.

Regent Zachius: And elderly human with a coppery complexion and deep-set wrinkles, the sort of face one expects of a person who has spent a great deal of time in the sun smiling. He's a kind old fellow who is in charge of the Court of Meeting.

Regent Stephen: A younger human who smells rather distinctly of wolf. He's in charge of the dungeons of the temple and seems to be a rather caring and compassionate fellow. It's his job to bring the cases of prisoners before the Potentate.

Regent Thadeus: One of the priests who aids in minor upkeep in the temple proper. He usually isn't seen outside the temple and since his position doesn't put him in much contact with the common folk he tends to be somewhat aloof and judgmental. Also happens to be an elf. Those snooty elves!

Bognus Thundershield: a lay dwarf that operates the temple's teleporter, primarily from Trog's. Though people can be 'ported in from elsewhere as well. While it isn't commonly known, this device can send people over rather long distances, though it's somewhat inaccurate when doing so. Bognus is a bit gruff, though generally good natured. He speaks with a thick Scottish Dwarven accent.

Trollfinger, Ironpick & Greencheek, Mining & Engineering (Player: Morty, Blue Zone)

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A run-down building near Trog's Tavern was bought by three goblin enterpreneurs with a large crew and now houses their mining and engineering company. Everyone who needs something dug, built, repaired or blown up is welcome.

The Temple of Dalachrech (Player: Earl of Purple, Null Zone)

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The first room entered is a foyer. On the walls are red drapes with silver, two-tailed scorpions embroidered on to them, and next to the door is an ornate font. The granite font stands about waist height, and is a plinth with a bowl of unholy water. Winding around the font are carved centipedes. A door away from this chamber leads to the main prayer hall. This room also has drapes with the two-tailed scorpion device on the walls, and a red velvet carpet flanked by wooden pews leads to an altar at the far end. The altar is covered with red velvet, with a gold statue and red candles placed upon it. The statue depicts a demon with a centipede's body, a scorpion's tail with spinnerets next to the sting, a stag beetle's head and the claws of a praying mantis.

This is a hidden location in the Null Zone. Please PM Earl of Purple if you wish to interract there.

Warwick Works (player: happyturtle, Yellow Zone)

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In the industrial area, a building is rented and has a new sign put out front.

W
Warwick Works

The building itself consists of a small office area in front and warehouses in back. There is no indication of what sort of business this is, but a certain cyborg with a satellite might recognize the logo and name.

Eternal Library - Across from Trog's (player-Eternal Drifter)

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The First floor has bookshelf after bookshelf of various books, and a few tables in three corners, and a checkout counter. There is a fireplace leading upwards at the side opposite the door. All the books are stamped "Property of the Eternal Library," and have security devices on them. There is a security bar at the entrance of the building. In one corner is a stairwell leading upwards.

The Second Floor is a hallway with three rooms. One of them is a bathroom for public use. The other two are rooms with chairs and a large table in each, mainly for meetings. The larger of the two meeting rooms, "Space," has a fireplace.

The Third Floor is Drifter's personal residence, with all the necisities. This floor is private, officially only open to Drifter and those who have recived and invitation from him.

Drifter (played by Eternal Drifter) is the librarian. You are free to check out books as you wish, but be sure to actually have the books checked out before you leave... those who forget quite often find themselves at the receiving end of Drifter's glare and Magic Missile spell.

Emergency Bunkers

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Eight bunker-like structures in a ring-like arrangement at about the midpoint between the walls (or the docks) and the center of the city have been completed.

The interior of each is rather dull, rather befitting a bunker, but there are underground areas beneath the visible bunkers. These are similarly dull and military-styled, but they also act as hospitals.

These are mostly designed with emergencies such as shelling in mind, and are usually closed.

Hastings and Sons Mortuary (player: Kid Kris, Yellow Zone)

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Near one of the older parts of the city sits a large and somewhat dour building of brick and mortar, built in the traditional sense, with a metal plaque by the door that reads (predictably enough):

Hastings and Sons
MORTUARY
For the preparation of the dearly departed.

And indeed, should one go in one should find all the trappings of a conventional mortuary, including several large visitation rooms, run by this guy:

Though of course, usually without the zombie there.
In recent times however, the true business of the resident Mortician has branched into a more heretical bent, offering certain services to the living impaired (more commonly known as the foul Undead). These start at simple healings and flesh grafts (the flesh occasionally obtained 'legitimately', when a body comes in for cremation and the Mortician gives them an urn full of wood-ash, but usually corpses are obtained through donations from customers or good old fashioned grave-robbing). But services can also range into body part replacement and augmentation for the undead who wishes his creator had seen fight to give him a giant lobster claw or retractable venomous spines, or even full body/flesh reconstruction for the self-conscious lich (or lich in disguise, though making your new flesh look like someone else usually costs extra) or the zombie in his golden years. These customers usually come in through the back door, where there is a plaque listing the full list of services. Though of course some are brazen enough to come through the front door anyway.

((PM if you wish to interact with the Mortician, as Kid Kris may not always check the thread.))

Emergency Clinic (Null/Yellow Zone border)

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Funded by the empire, this clinic provides the care you would get in a modern emergency room. This is the place to come for getting bones set, wounds stitched, normal illnesses treated, etc. They can't handle magical ailments, nor do they provide magical healing, and the further a being is from being human, the less likely they are to have the necessary expertise to help.

This is an NPC facility. Please godmod your own care.

Witch Which's Wish Shop (Yellow Zone, Player: Haruki-kun)

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Welcome. If you have stepped into this store, it is because you have a wish.

The store is big, ancient and beautiful. It has a large garden with colorful flowers, a pond with fish and running water, and chirping birds. This is the outside of the store. The inside, however, is, to put it simply, gloomy. There’s burning candles and incense everywhere. From the hall where you enter you are led off into a side room with a low table and cushions around it. A tall, masked and unnamed stranger brings tea and snacks to the guests. The Witch sits opposite and rarely ever moves.

RULES (OOC):

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This is a Wish shop. Your character will only enter this shop if he has a wish. Whether the wish is granted or not is a different issue.
Witch Which is in charge of the shop and will grant wishes to everyone who asks, regardless of intent or alignment, as long as the appropriate price is paid. Under certain conditions:

Condition one: Witch Which will not haggle. She couldn’t lower a price or overcharge even if she wanted to. A balance must be kept in order for the wish to be granted.

Condition two: When a Wish directly affects another player’s character in a way that would be considered godmodding, the other player must agree first.

Condition three: The Witch may not reject any wish unless the price is too high to be paid. Wishes to take a life or to destroy the world, for example, carry a price higher than anyone can pay. ANYONE.

Condition Four: The Witch will never engage in battle. Be glad. The Witch is the very definition of True Neutral.

Condition Five: The store is not hard to access; in fact, there’s a big sign outside and everything. However, the store’s grounds exist in a special separate dimension, protecting it from anything that could destroy it, up to and including plot.

Condition Six: Haruki-kun reserves the right to alter the conditions if he feels they’re causing problems such as godmodding or similar issues.

NOIR (Red Zone, Players: Moff Chumley and Project_Mayhem)

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In a rather seedy building, off of a rather seedy hall, is a door. It's not a pretty door, but it does its job admirably. It's got an eye painted on it, rather sloppily. Under the eye, is the word "NOIR". Inside, is a small, cramped, rather dusty reception room. Coffee machine, secretary's desk, several chairs, the like. The desk looks like it's never been touched; the coffee machine, like it's survived several wars. Three doors lead off the room: Raz's office, Ilyena's office, and a closet. Word to the wise: don't open that door.

Between the two of them, Ilyena and Raz are capable of everything from fairly standard PI fair to more complicated contracts using Ilyena's ability to write spells.

Needle and Thread (Blue Zone, Player: Artemis97)

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On one side of a wide cobblestoned street is a small shop. The sign hanging over the door depicts a simple spool of thread, pierced by a needle. No words were included, as a courtesy to those who could not read, nor were they needed. It was clear from the merchandise displayed in the two large windows on either side of the door that this was a clothing boutique. The right side displayed the latest in women's fashions, dresses and skirts in unique designs, all detailed by hand with beading and emboidery. The left window showed men's clothing, from a beautifully tailored three piece suit, cut from expensive fabrics, to the very best in adventuring style, rugged and sturdy, clearly built to last.

Inside, racks and manequins display more clothing, split down the middle between men's and women's fashions. The back wall held rolls of fabric, some plain, others with obviously magical porperties. A large, three-sided mirror sits in the back corner, next to a small changing stall. On the other side is a small counter holding a cash register, behind that the door that led to a small workroom.

The Needle and Thread is a clothing shop specializing in custom tailoring and specialty designs. It is owned and operated by Lillith Rock, and the kindly fiendish woman can usually be found behind the counter, or working on orders in the back workroom.

On the City's government

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As the capital city of the Acronymian Empire, Inside is subject to its laws. They largely resemble modern-day laws*, with the exception of weapons control and small-scale vigilantism, as those would be extremely difficult to enforce. Vigilantism, however, once again becomes problematic when it causes more problems than it fixes.

Slavery is illegal in the Empire. This would be treated as a given (see above), but it has come up many times.

The Empire has also imposed a light tax on arms sales and a light-moderate one on imports. The latter grants much more funding than it normally would, thanks to the Empire's location in a nexus of realities-many goods, mundane and exotic, often pour into Inside and the greater Empire.

*DC may experiment with punishments, though, as he's aware that being unable to play a criminal character because they're stuck in jail for a realistic amount of time is no fun.

On Apocalypses

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When determining apocalyptic effects that threaten Inside, please keep the bottom of this post in mind.

The title is a misnomer, of course. No doubt the moniker of this place was settled on after a brief conversation that started with, 'Wouldn't it be funny if...?'. But now the name has stuck.

But what is this place, you ask?

The city of Inside is the capital city of the nation known as the Acronymian Empire. The city was once the center of the Nexus, the dimensional anomaly that acts as a crossroads between any number of radically different worlds. Now, it is no longer the center, but still shows the influence of the Nexus.

Thanks to the Nexus, the cityscape is high in variety of architectural styles, varying tech levels factoring in to the myriad designs. Though the city is now relatively stable, it's still possible to find buildings of any number of architectural styles within it. Shopping malls lie beside medieval architecture, and futuristic towers rise alongside old cathedrals.

The city is surrounded by defensive walls, with an artificially and accidentally created moat outside the walls. A gap in the walls and a bridge allow for entrance into the city proper, the main gate opening up to welcome newcomers Inside.

[Quincunx]

[Vacant Lot]


Minta waves hihihi to Sandy while flippin' through another notebook (this one signed "Cicero" and professionally printed and bound, more of a field guide) an' finally finds a match! "Is a mindspore toadstool!" she announces with pride, then attends to the conversation going on overhead.

"Oo wait, we need a band, I got trumpeter tinytops an' timpani tinytops an' tootaflute tinytops, but I don't got a tiny violin player or any strings really oo oo oo what 'bout the tubatype tinytop!" Seeing no familiarity, she winds up another clockwork dolly an' sets it loose. This one, when it straightens from its stoop, turns out to be a timpani tinytop, tat-a-rat-a-tatting on a teeny tiny drum.

[Chas the mage]

[Red Zone Streets / Slums]

Aether walks the streets once again, in full power armor. He is sober this time, other than a slight hangover, and has a large assault rifle in hand; and he patrols about the area.

[The Bushranger]

[Street marketplace]

"Turduckens! Fresh Turduckens! Get 'em here, either standard or Baconated! Two copper a pound!"

The call comes from a market stall that had popped up overnight, but looks rather well built. A pen of some very odd looking avian creaturs, with fan tails, combs, and webbed feet, behind it, and more, post-mortem, in an open cooker, sending up delicious crispy smells.

"Live, frozen or cooked! Also pumpkpples! Fresh or in pies, frozen or baked!"

The person working the stall is a tall, slender, statuesque woman with a dark, almost "mediterranian" complexion and silvery-white hair, ice blue eyes sparkling in a kind face as she works the crowd, doing a brisk business.

[Rebonack]

[Vacant Lot]

"Uuugh..." corrects one of the fungal zombies. Not a mindspore toadstool at all! The nerve of some people, assuming they know everything that's to be know!

Hhmph!

Or actually more like "Huuurgh..."

But close enough!

The zombies are putting the finishing touches on their float at the moment, hanging a number of rather pretty Thanksmas wreaths on it! The various tendrils of the massive mushroom curl up to form nice little hooks.

Meanwhile, a rather horrible looking fungal beast comes creeping out of a nearby man-hole. It appears roughly humanoid, though its limbs are all wrong, bending in spider-like fashion as it crawls across the ground. It sports a fifth leg where one might expect a tail to be. Each limb ends in a 'hand' with five taloned fingers splayed radially from the center.

It's head, if one can even call it that, looks like an elongated version of the sporocarp sitting on the truck. Several smaller puffballs adorn its back, each flanked by five swaying mycilum tendrils.

As with all of the strange creatures it has black fractal patters spiraling across its fleshy hide. The thing is a mustardy drab green. Like someone ate split pea soup, threw up, and decided to call it a color.

The monster is given a festive Thanksmas hat moments before it climbs up the side of the fungal float and seats itself atop the giant mushroom. No doubt it'll be waving at people.

[VampireRot]

[Red Zones]

There are houses on fire doted around the slums. Firefighters have shown up to fight them, but Rot was chucking a good deal of Molotov cocktails and the fiery explosion, complete with flaming and falling debris, didn't help either.

[Quincunx]

[Vacant Lot]

Minta winds up tinytop toys 'til about half a dozen clockwork-dollies are following her, raising a miniaturized clamor.

It should perhaps be noted that her current guild maintains a No Vuvuzelas, Ever, No, Not Even Then list*, and that she is on it. For the safety and sanity of you and those around you, please heed it.

Neato necros don't argue with zombies. Neato necros order zombies around! Neato necros can also think lots better than zombies. . .Minta re-reads Cicero's notebook. . .

". . .Yesterday I saw
this plant launch a seed
right into the forehead of
a shiliskin. The spore
then appeared to transform
the shiliskin into a
zombie! The plant feeds
off the decaying bodies of
its victims while
simultaneously using them
as guards against potential
predators. Brilliant! . . ."

"Is not an exact match," Minta notes, lookin' at the zombies that haven't got shiliskin tentacle heads an' the puffball palanquin which does. "But is worth tryin'!" She fishes through her pockets an' finds a super dooper triple looper crazy straw, wipes some puffball spores off of her cheeks an' wedges them into the straw, spies a likely NPC, an' puffs!

*Yes, that's "list" as in "multiple people". We are professionals**. We see no need to act like professionals.

**The professional horn player is first on the No Vuvuzelas list.

[Rebonack]

[Vacant Lot]

An NPC gets spores poofed in his face!

He waves his hands around a bit and generally looks irritated. "What the hell's the big idea, blowing dirt in my face!"

What a grumpy guss!

But then someone else speaks up!

"It doesn't work like that," comes a rattling, wheezy voice from behind! Should Minta turn toward the source of the sound she'll find that weird fungal monster thingy peering down at her. Or at least it looks like it's peering at her, what with the lack of eyes and all. "Those spores aren't mature yet and getting them in the lungs won't do anything that pollen or dust wouldn't."

The sound seems to be coming from a number of spiracles in the creature's flank. Weird.

[Chas the mage]

[Red Zones]

Aether assists in putting out some of the fires.

[happyturtle]

Vacant Lot

The lead Moff starts directing the band, and 5 dozen vuvuzelas all start playing in Minta's vicinity.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTT!!!!!!

[The Bushranger]

[A few streets over at the marketplace...]

The turducken rancher winces as the sudden roar of eighty thousand bees sounds from the nearby street...

Well, either that or five dozen vuvuzelas.

Either way, it makes her eye twitch. She is a bard, after all.

And the turduckens are restless. o.o

[Rebonack]

[Turducken Stand!]

Customers approach!

Kind of...

Strange customers.

Three Fungal Zombies and one Mycoid Legionnaire, the same hideous sort of plant creature that's presently directing actions over at the Fungal Float. The Legionnaire is presently walking upright in a sort of loping gait. Every now and again it pauses to glance over a shoulder whilst waiting for the shambling zombies to catch up.

They don't move very fast.

"Now remember, we're just hear to get food. No spitting spores at people," the Legionnaire hisses.

"Uuuuggh..." a zombie rattles in reply.

"No, we'll have plenty of time for it later. It's Thanksmass eve and implanting people would leave them like you guys for the holiday," glances back at them once more. "No offense."

"Bruuuh..."

The freakish plant monster finally arrives at the turducken booth and places its root-like forelimbs on the counter. "Merry Thanksmass eve!" and tries to smile, realizes that it can't, and stops. "We need two dozen turduckens. We've got quite the Thanksmass feast planned."

[The Bushranger]

[Turducken's Last Stand]

"Ah...hello there. Sir? Happy Thanksmas!" the stand-tender says, a bit surprised at the scene before her, and the odd customers she has.

But she doesn't discriminate against the differently-formed and the alternatively-living!

"Two dozen? I believe I can handle that. Would you like them fresh or flash-frozen? And how many would you like Baconissed?" the silver-haired bard asks.

[Rebonack]

[Turducken Stand]

At 'sir' the bizarre plant creature makes a few sharp hissing sounds that may very well be the equivalent of a cough. At the same time it glances down and runs a gnarled hand across its chest.

"I was... eerr... I was a woman, actually..."

It has none of the features one would normally associate with a female mammal.

"Uuuh huhuhu..." chuckles one of the fungal zombies, only to be shot a rather nasty eyeless look from the Legionnaire.

"Right. Anyway. We need them flash frozen. And all baconised! Everything is better with bacon."

[The Bushranger]

[Turducken Stand]

"Oh, my apologies, ma'am!" the turducken rancher/bard says with an apologeitc smile. "Very sorry. And I'll have them ready for you in a jiffy, then."

Still wincing from the incessant buzzing coming from not too very far away, she hurries back into the turducken pen and starts picking out victims from the flock!

The turduckens, being restless, sense their impending doom.

"SQUAKKLE! SQUAKKLE!" they squawk/quack/gobble as they're rounded up and shoved into the Insta-Bird Mark VII*.

[Rebonack]

[Turducken Stand]

The fungal zombies just sorta stand around, staring off into space with their mushroom-eaten eyes.

The Legionnaire is looking down at her? chest and wishing that she still appeared at least something like herself. Apparently someone addressing her by the wrong gender really jarred her. Not that she has a gender right now. Unless you count 'sporophite' as a gender along with male and female.

Then she does. It just isn't female. Or male for that matter.

Oh well.

"So... so have you been raising weird hybrid birds for very long?" the Legionnaire inquires, trying to break her own awkward silence with some small talk.

[The Bushranger]

[Turducken's Last Stand]

Turducken #13 gets its neck wrung and get placed on the conveyer belt into the Insta-Bird Mark VII*!

Even as Turducken #11 emerges flash-frozen, plucked, cleaned, and trussed, with nice packs of giblets and stuffing.

"Not very long, at least not here. I've had a bit of an adventuresome life and picked up an interest in livestock genetics along the way. These were a 'because I could' project, I suppose, but they turned into a tidy profit. Could I interest you in any pumpkapples? They're available both fresh and as ready-to-bake pies!"

The silver-haired woman smiles, and, it should be noted, is rather younger than she 'should be' for having platinum hair.

[Rebonack]

[Terducken Stand]

Holly, for that is (or was?) the name of the Mycoid monster, really isn't terribly moved by oddly colored hair. She was born here in the Nexus. The family next door to her own had a full spectrum of hair colors. Quite literally.

The one with gamma-ray hair didn't live too long...

"Oh! You must be a Pea Sea then!" she comments, brightening ever so slightly. "My brother had a brief stint as a Pea Sea but... He ended up getting trapped in dead time for months before reverting to an In Pea Sea lifestyle. I guess he just wasn't cut out for it."

The plant creature shrugs.

"Uuuhh... No pumpkin apples. We have enough fruit for the feast already."

[The Bushranger]

[Turducken's Last Stand]

"I've heard that term used sometimes to describe me, although I'm not quite sure preciesly what it means," the rancher admits.

Turducken #14 goes into the Insta-Bird Mark VII*, as #12 emerges ready for sale.

"There's nothing wrong with being a normal person, though. Or a normal not-person," she adds with a smile. "Some are meant to be heros and leaders, and it's always good if you can be, but what is a hero is there is nobody to defend, or a leader if there is nobody to follow?

We also have sweet potato cassaroles. They're just normal sweet potatoes, though. I haven't pefected the method of splicing them with peanuts yet."

[Rebonack]

[Turducken Stand]

"I think it means 'Powered Citizen', though it's something of a misnomer," the Mycoid muses. "Since I've met people with supernatural abilities that weren't PCs and a few PCs that didn't seem to have any unusual abilities at all. So... I guess I'm really not sure either?"

She watches the various birds go trundling off to their demise. Truly a sacrifice for the greater good.

Holly takes another breath to speak again when suddenly-!

*Sploot!*

A spidery looking thing pops out of one of the tumors on a Fungal Zombie!

Faster than you can blink the Legionnaire whirls around and catches the Spore in one of her gnarled claws, scowling at the zombie. "I said no Spores! There's a freeze on infections until after Thanksmass is over!"

"UurUuh..." the zombie moans apologetically.

[The Bushranger]

[Turducken's Last Stand]

And even as Turducken #18 gets processed, the propitoress whirls around, and...

...is that a gunblade in her hand?

"I serve everyone here, regardless of life status, race, or anything else. However there is a strict 'no violence' policy, which includes zombification, transferrance of lycanthrophy or vampirism, and just about everything else under that policy. However, I'm a reasonable woman, and you seem to have your...minions?...well in hand, ma'am, so, there shouldn't be a problem, I take it?"

Her tone is remarkably soft and reasonable. This might or might not make it more scary.

[Rebonack]

[Turducken Stand]

Is it a Hextech Gunblade?

*ahem*

Holy suddenly looks... really sheepish. How she manages this without a face isn't exactly clear.

"I-I'm really sorry about that. They aren't my minions they... Well... The early stages of this-" she gestures at herself with the hand that isn't holding a wriggling Spore. "-leaves you with zombie-like intelligence. It... was actually pretty scary when I was going through that phase..."

She sounds honestly rattled by this. Probably hasn't ever fought anyone before and isn't sure what she would do if forced to defend herself.

"I can sort of control them with pheromones but... I'm pretty new to all of this and I'm still getting the hang of it. I... umm... I don't think there'll be any more trouble from them."

The Mycoid then noms the Spore.

Crunchy!

[The Bushranger]

[Turducken's Last Stand]

Nope. More like this one.

In a flash, the gunblade vanishes - to where, well, that's almost impossible to tell. It looks like it's in a hip holster like a normal gun, but there's no way that blade fits...

Magic!

"It's quite alright," the woman says with a reassuring smile. "And I apologise if I scared you, miss. It's just that I need to ensure my customers are safe, and able to enjoy their holiday meals. But I'm sure you'll be fine."

The Turducken processing resumes! With much sqwackkling.

"My name is Andromeda, by the way," she introduces herself, trying to calm the charmingly uncertain monster-girl.

[Rebonack]

[Turducken Stand]

If a large object fitting into a small container is the most exotic form of magic one has seen then they haven't been in the Nexus for very long.

"Oh I... uh... I understand," the Mycoid wheezes back. Her breathing is still slightly elevated... "I don't want to see anyone getting hurt. Though..."

He head droops down a bit. "I almost wish that this... plague had broken out before the mess with the vampires. Maybe Loralee would still be alive..."

Another wheezing sigh.

Then a name!

"I'm Holly. Yes, plant name, I know. Ironic that this happened to me, right?"

[The Bushranger]

[Turducken's Last Stand]

Andromeda would totally give Holly a hug at that, but, y'know. As it is though, she gives her a sympahtetic look and smile as Turducken #24 emerges from the Insta-Bird Mark VII*.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Holly. It's never kind to lose somebody, let alone when...well, something happens afterwards that, had it happened sooner, could have helped. But everything happens for a reason, they say, and regardless of the reason, what has happened has happened. And you can make her proud by...continuing on."
She almost said 'living on', boy would that have been awkward.

She then changes the subject. "Well, that's all the birds, and they're packed and ready for you." Indeed, the Insta-Bird Mark VII* has packed the turduckens into four boxes, six to a box. "Careful, that's dry ice chilling them, so it would be bad if you break the inner liner."

She then quotes a most reasonable price.

[Rebonack]

[Turducken Stand!]

Hey!

Holly is totally still alive. Not undead in the least!

She just...

Isn't whatever species she was before.

"I heard from one of my neighbors that they found Lor- they found my little sister's corpse attacking someone else. Imperial soldiers destroyed her body and burned it," another wheezing sound. "I never got to say goodbye..."

Holly finds much to her dismay that her lack of eyes makes it rather hard to cry. Right now she really wishes that she could.

A sharp breath in as the Legionnaire tries to compose herself. "I'm really sorry for dumping all of this on you here on Thanksmass Eve. It's just... It just hit me that I won't eat a Thanksmass meal with her again..."

The plant monster shakes her head before plopping down the proper amount of money. The fungal tendrils on her back have already twined themselves into a make-shift net to carry the birds that the three zombies won't be able to handle.

"You... have a wonderful Thanksmass. And keep your loved ones close. You never realize how much you'll miss them until they're gone."

[Rae Artemi]

[Streets-Yellow Zone]

Crae enters the city, his eyes glowing a deep blue, the rest of his body glowing faintly yellow. He appears to be walking around without a real destination, paying attention to everything. He's not causing trouble, but he looks like he might be about to. His wings are flapping every once in a while, blowing snow around, and his hands are in his pockets.

[happyturtle]

Sunshine Ave Vacant Lot

Crae might run across the parade forming on the vacant lot on Sunshine Ave.

"I guess this is all the floats we're going to get," Decker says sadly. "We suck."

Meanwhile, mobs of bystanders have started beating up Moffs and breaking their vuvuzelas.

[VampireRot]

[Sunshine Ave Vacant Lot]

Zanny the giant green dragon float chuckles.

"Don't say that, child. I shall make up for it, if you wish."

The bard hums to himself and begins weaving magic, though it will not immediately be apparent.

"Now, do you think the fireworks should alternate red and green like Thanksmas lights?"

[Rebonack]

[Vacant Lot]

Several of the Fungal Zombies moan dejectedly as the swanmay laments their relative lack of floats. She's right to a degree. They only have a few floats. It's pretty sad...

But what's this?

The Mycoid Legionnaire sitting atop the giant mushroom float leaps off, landing in a low crouch before straightening itself up. "Hey, com'on! Don't be like that! Just because we don't have many floats doesn't mean the parade will be bad! This is all about Thanksmass Spirit, right? So we ride our floats and be as spirited as we can manage!"

It sure sounds peppy for being a horrible, possibly aberrant plant monster.

"The best way to spread Thanksmass cheer is singing loud for all to hear!"