Inside 69: Nice.

[Earl of Purple]

Stuck Square

"I honestly don't know. Could be the animals." She stretches a wing out, so the eye in the middle of it can get a glimpse at the fish. She's figured out what illusions look like, and holograms aren't too different. If the sealife are projections and don't actually exist, the eye will see that and Jack will find out.

Jack's shadow does turn into a four-winged bird and flies alongside Anchor's shadow, eager to explore and experience the freedom it only feels around Anchor.

Hive Sewers

A misunderstanding- the efforts are working, but the Tineye is aware of the efforts to change how she feels. A trick of the burglar's, not something the Hive did wrong.

"No, just me. I work better alone, mostly. Sometimes I work with others, for bigger jobs. And, um, yes. I'm a Misting- a Tineye. I can burn tin to improve my senses." She's whispering now she's been told to be quieter, and gulps nervously. She really doesn't like giving away what she can do, but... But it's not impossible these guys have a Seeker or something else that lets them feel what she's up to. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing she's seen since her arrival in this strange city.

[Rebonack]

[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap]

The bones aren't currently a home to a weird fungal infection, but it looks like they WERE. The way the bones are all spiky and pitted in places suggests that these poor people had pretty extensive fungal infections before they died.

So...

Was the fungus inciting them to shatter the Icon?

Or were they eaten afterward?

In the conservatory Jack runs her fingers along the harp, drawing a soothing strum from it. It's pretty nice. Less nice is the view out the windows when the curtains are drawn back. They're absolutely covered in thick black fungal vines. From their surface goatish eyes grow and are absorbed. Lupine jaws rip across surfaces, tongues slathering against the window. Pointed goat horns and twisted rams horns festoon the surface like thorns. Every now and again a malformed thing of equal parts wolf, goat, sheep, and coiled fungus slurps free from the rest of the mass, words and whispers slithering about them like snakes. The misshapen offspring are simply devoured again more often than not. A thousand thousand voices pound against Jack's mind.

Shub shub shub!
Shub shub shub!
Shub shub shub!

Pulling the curtains closed again blocks it out.

The silver bell, by contrast, is very shiny and distinctly not awful.

Speaking of awful things!

Faced with an ineffable alien horror the woman decides to stab it right in its gross goat-eye. Tendrils lash around the woman's out-stretched arm for a few fractions of a second before a horrible shriek shakes the house, the walls convulsing like the heaving chest of a living thing. The tendrils attacking her shudder and burst in a spray over fragrant brownish black sludge as everything anywhere near were the sword stabbed just kind of explodes. The awful abomination goes sliding back down the dumbwaiter shaft, leaving a slick of oil splattered all over the walls and floor in its wake.

Probably all over the poor woman, too. Or at least her arm.

It doesn't appear to be at all pleased about this. But at least she wasn't pulled into the basement?


[Hobo]

Is Nick just going to be hanging around in the sky for twenty minutes?

Scrying on the hobo proves there yes, there are multiple hobos. They might be clones. It isn't clear. And there are quite a few of the guy spread all over the City.

None of them are doing anything strictly criminal.

Just ranting about the end of thread, whatever that means.

As a matter of fact, it appears as though there are exactly sixty nine of the guy scattered around.

Nice.

[Earl of Purple]

Creepy Victorian Deathtrap- Upstairs

Jack does close the curtains again, if only in the vague hope it will stop them seeing her. She slightly regrets strumming the harp as she went past, now. It made a noise they may have heard. Not much to do about it now. She'll open the piano to look at the strings (and anything else that might be hidden in there), grab the bell- carefully, to try and avoid it ringing- to put in her bag and probably go to the next room along.

[Ionbound]

[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap-Downstairs]

The lady is absolutely soaked in oil. She just kind of stands there, a little shellshocked, as she tries to wipe it off and clean herself up enough until she doesn't feel quite so...Icky and can carry on exploring.

[Deathkeeper]

[Hobo]

Hrm. Well. That's.
Definitely something.
But not anything useable.
Nick does do a few passes, hoping to find any patterns in their placement or some other clues. But he doubts it will be that obvious.
He can't really have the diviners make other inquiries either, since he doesn't know what to ask.
Maybe he should just look for a library and see if they're quoting some prophecy. Or more likely, butchering it.
He just needs to find one that's close.

[Rebonack]

[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap- Upstairs]

As soon as the curtains are drawn the awful noises stop. Or at leas the pounding in Jack's head does. There's still a scrabbling, scratching sound against the window of something trying to get in every now and again. Possibly one of those abhorrent little abominations trying to escape being eaten again.

The bell is taken without any real difficulty. It isn't locked up there or anything, just sitting atop the mantle being shiny. Nothing unusual is to be found inside the piano.

Then on to the next room!

Jack has discovered the library!

It is obvious that the master of this house spent many hours here before (and during) his inevitable descent into madness.

Red velvet drapes cover the windows of this room. An exquisite mahogany desk and a matching high-back chair face the entrance and the fireplace, above which hangs a framed picture of a windmill perched atop a rocky crag, a shape peering out of a window near the top. Situated in corners of the room are two overstuffed chairs. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line the south wall. A rolling wooden ladder allows one to more easily reach the high shelves. Several objects adorn the desk. An inkwell a pin, an oil lamp, a wooden seal bearing the family crest, several blank sheets of paper, and an old ornate iron key with the face of a sheep on one side and the face of a wolf on the reverse.

Hundreds of books like the shelves on a variety of subjects, most of which are quite mundane. History, poetry, fiction, with a few smatterings of alchemy. Strange, though. Given the nature of the house one would expect the books to have a far more arcane leaning.


[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap-Downstairs]

Soaked in holy oil, hmm?

The scent is completely overwhelming and wiping the viscous fluid off isn't particularly easy. There are, however, clean towels in the kitchen she could employ. And water in the ice box that she could wet the towels with. She had best hurry, though, because with every single beat of her heart she can hear a soft Shub! in her mind. Something inside her is resisting the effect, but how long it would be able to hold out against being soaked head to toe in 'blessed' oil probably isn't something she should test by any means.

With each heartbeat is grows incrementally worse. With each heartbeat mutations inch closer to manifesting.

Cattle. Beast. Fungus. Scroll.


[Hobo]

Should Nick make a map of the placement of all the doom-sayers a pastern will in fact appear. They form a rough circle with a hole in the middle. And at the hole in the middle? A completely empty area. Several blocks of nothing but barren lots. Which... is weird. Open space usually doesn't last long around the Nexus. Maybe that's significant?

[Deathkeeper]

[Hobo]

Well. That's.
Worrying.
What a day to forget your power armor.
Nick heads to the hole regardless. He's never unarmed at least.

[Earl of Purple]

Creepy Victorian Deathtrap

Jack's going to check the window just in case, peeping through the curtain rather than pulling it open- unless she sees something other than a window behind it, then she'll pull it open. After, she'll check the desk drawers in the hope there's another relic in one of them. She should probably have a look at the books, but that's the last job.

As she walks across the room, she'll look at the floor for signs of anything being dragged. If any of the bookshelves are secret doors that swing outward, hopefully they'll leave a mark for her to see.

[Ionbound]

[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap-Downstairs]

As soon as she realizes that the oil is seeping into her mind, the lady immediately picks up the pace. Gritting sharpening teeth, she tries to strip, ripping her oil-soaked outer clothing to shreds with growing claws and muscles, leaving her only in panties and a sports bra. Quickly she turns to the towels and water, wiping her face clean as her ears sharpen into wolfish points and small horns grow from her hairline, and then arms as her hair follicles swell and produce black fur on them even as she cleans up. Finally, she takes a breath, and closes her eyes, focusing to dispel the last of the voices, and says, more to focus herself, "No...I am not part of...Of this...Place. I am Melissa Arkaven. And I am myself." With that last assertion, she seems to ripple with energy as some kind of spark within her awakens, and she takes one more deep breath, adding, "Well...That's new."

[Rebonack]

[Hoboless Lot]

Nick will find, as mentioned, about four square blocks worth of... nothing.

Well.

Not nothing.

Finding nothing would be really disconcerting.

He finds a large, square patch of barren earth covered in scraggly looking weeds and patches of half-melted snow. Here and there he'll find an old brick chimney bereft of a house, an unfinished cinder-block wall, a foundation dug out and filled with murky water. Many indications that there was at some point, or could be in the future, something here. But now? Nothing. Maybe the most interesting thing that will catch his eye is a construction site surrounded by a dilapidated wood fence with a crane straddling a large pit. There's an excavator, a large truck, a mobile office building, and a few port-a-potties all abandoned. Stacks of construction materials, pipes, rebar, cinder blocks, are stacked haphazardly around the yard. A subtle green glow suffuses the area around the hole.

Which is kind of ominous.


[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap - Above]

Jeck peeks cautiously through the curtain.

shubshubshubshub...

Probably best not to peek through the curtain.

Jack doesn't find any more relics in here. Inside the desk is more writing implements. Nothing extraordinary, but useful if you feel like pinning a letter. Though as she searches the room (an examines a few books) she'll notice a rather odd scuff mark in the carpet. The sort that would be caused by a door swinging out across it. But no doors! Just book shelves! Prodding at the books will eventually lead her to a small hardbound book with the title 'Investigation Checks and You'. Pulling the book causes the shelf to swing outward.

Score!

Inside is a secret room! More bookshelves, though this time around stocked with books of a clearly otherworldly nature. Summoning and binding angels. The creation of iconography. Ways to trap and tap the power of spirits. Kothic Mysteries. There's a small reading desk with a flickering oil lamp set on it along with a leather bound tome. The front is marked with a symbol that can only be described as virulent. A single word sits below the title.

Logos.

Also?

There's a large wood and iron chest in the secret room.

It's propped half open.

By a skeleton sticking out of it.



[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap - Below]

Well. That could have been a whole lot worse, couldn't it?
shub
The could have been pulled off into the basement, her flesh absorbed into that awful writhing mass of corruption filling the walls of the house.
shub
She would have been just another voice in that horrifying choir, her bones spat out into the earth below the garden outside.
shub
But as it stands she just has a few minor mutations and the mingling of arcane and eldritch power seems to have awakened something that might help keep her alive?
shub
Yes, it could certainly be way, way worse.
shub shub shub

There was that closet on the ground floor, right? She can probably 'borrow' some clothing from there. Not likely that anyone in the house will mind, right?

...right?

Hopefully not.

[Deathkeeper]

[Lot]

Nick sighs, and after calling in his location and ignoring the many pleadings to not do something stupid, he draws his pistol and goes to inspect the hole and peer into it. If it’s straight down and tight it isn’t something he can safely delve into; he doesn’t have any rope and he can’t fly straight up in a tight space.

[Earl of Purple]

Creepy Victorian Deathtrap

Jack knows that magic books are valuable, and also that they're dangerous. Jack's not so foolish as to sell books that she knows are dangerous, so she's going to flick through the Logos book. She's looking for illustrations, mainly; images are easy to find and can reveal a lot about what a book deals with. She might stop and read a ritual or two, if it seems relatively simple. Everything seems to be angelic-based, and the statue in the sea cave was quite obviously an angel of some kind, so she really hopes that the fungus-things outside aren't more angels, despite the similarity between the energies here and there. She'd also check the chest, but after she's had a glance through the book.

[Ionbound]

[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap - Below]

Melissa takes a deep, panting, almost wolf-like breath as she steadies herself a little more in the kitchen, eventually stepping outside the shreds of her ruined clothes and carefully avoiding any more oil-tainted floor. She heads back out into the hallway and looks around, eventually heading towards the closet in the search for clothes! Or at least something comfortable to wear as pants.

[Rebonack]

[Lot]

That's one of the problems with being important, politically, as Sunder has discovered. People get upset at you for trying to do adventure-y things. Or vaguely risky things. Or coming out in public without body guards sorts of things. But those people are boring and just want you to be relegated to a desk monkey. And Nick would never do that! He would probably get restless or something.

Which is why he's here staring into a pit in the ground instead of doing the sane thing and waiting for someone else to do the job.

Or backup.

Or basically anything.

He's dealt with old vaults before filled with crazy stuff. How different could this possibly be?

Anywho!

Nick is in luck.

There's a basket platform attached to the end of the crane dangling right out at the end of a steel catwalk. It's just a matter of walking over, opening the little gate built onto the side, and pressing the down button on the control box affixed to the side of the platform. That'll take him down into the pit. Peering down Nick will see-!

Actually more light than one might expect.

Somewhere down in the dark comes the hum of an electric generator and there are quite a few mobile construction lights set up here and there. It looks almost as if there's a factory or something down there? Like everything else was just built on top of it.


[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap - Above]

Jack pages through the tome of forbidden arcane knowledge! The first picture she'll come to come across seems like it should be completely innocuous, but it makes her skin crawl. It's vaguely reminiscent of a branch, or maybe a tree, or maybe a fern, or maybe spreading fungal roots. Something about the way the sigil is drawn makes it almost seem to appear to be crawling the longer one stares at it. But after a blink no, it's just ink on a page. According to the book the symbol represents the Ideal Form Logos which... seems to be connected to knowledge? Sort of? Not exactly. But close enough. Judging from the increasingly frantic scrawled notes in the margins whoever was studying the book was hoping to gain some kind of otherwise difficult or impossible to attain knowledge from the Ideal Form itself.

In retrospect that probably wasn't a wise plan.

Another set of pictures appear to be depictions of angels (great) called cherubim, those heavenly beings most closely aligned and devoted to Logos. They look... pretty wild. Quite literally. It's easy to tell that the artist was struggling to make something coherent. Jack will recognize aspects of what she had seen out the window, though far more orderly in this drawing. Parts aren't spread around with chaotic abandon, though whether that's because drawing such a protean monstrosity is really difficult or because the actual angels are a bit less awful isn't clear.

Still another set of pictures depicts what happens to people who have been overwhelmingly touched by the power of Logos. The first few images show minor 'blessings'. Cloven hooves, extra mouths full of predatory teeth, horns, fungal growth, goat-like eyes. A second drawing shows a satyr-like creature, though the additional bits are jumbled and chaotic. The third picture is hardly even recognizable as human. A loose sheet of paper is tucked between the pages, noting experiments on exposing various animals (including humans) to unfiltered arcane power from an Icon of Logos. Meticulous notes are made, including draws, of the resulting mutations. There's also some notes on the discovery that it's possible to cause wholly mutated creatures to merge together into a single larger chimeric organism.

That isn't disconcerting at all.

And inside the chest!

Well.

There's a skeleton, obviously.

The cause of death appears to be pretty obvious, too. Spears of fungal growth had burst from a shaggy black mass in the lid of the chest and pierced his skull. Thankfully the growth appears to be old and dessicated and doesn't try spearing Jack when she pulls the lid open. Does cause the skeleton's head to fall off, though. Inside the chest is a worn notebook, what appears to be the deed to the house, a fairly impressive collection of gold coins, and a second relic wrapped in a silk and silver embroidered handkerchief.

It resonates with the first, a symbol of absolute perfection.


[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap - Below]

Melissa may get the weirdest impression that she should be walking on the tippest of her tip-toes, but she doesn't have hooves so she should ignore that impulse. She doesn't have hooves and she won't ever be getting any. Hooves are for sheep and goats and deer and shub and satyrs and cows and cherubs and stuff, not for her.

She opens the closet and finds a nice selection of fancy suits with trousers as well as Victorian era dresses. Considering how ostentatiously huge the dresses are wearing one of those while exploring a house that's haunted by flesh in the walls might not be the best plan. Seriously. If she had been wearing that dress when the Thing in the Dumbwaiter had tried to grab her it would have had WAY more to latch onto.

As she's looking through the clothing in the closet there comes a *thump* from the smoking room nearby, followed by a disconcerting shuffling sound.

[Recaiden]

Stuck Square

"I honestly don't know. Could be the animals." She stretches a wing out, so the eye in the middle of it can get a glimpse at the fish. She's figured out what illusions look like, and holograms aren't too different. If the sealife are projections and don't actually exist, the eye will see that and Jack will find out.

Jack's shadow does turn into a four-winged bird and flies alongside Anchor's shadow, eager to explore and experience the freedom it only feels around Anchor.

The eye won't see anything unusual about the fish. They're normal animals. It's the air of the aquarium that's enchanted to support them as it does, and another bit of magical weirdness to keep them from swimming down into the walkways and hallways where visitors are.
"Yeah. They seem really realistic, though. I mean- oh, look at these jellyfish! I've never seen them this close."[/I] Anchor exclaims, forgetting her train of thought.

It really seems like it would be a lot simpler to fill the place with illusionary fish.

Anchor's shadow is fairly acrobatic, but it can't fly, and is impressed and jealous at the other shadow now being able to soar above and ahead of it.
They might discover that if you fly up high enough, you escape the weird directions of the Square, and can see all seventeen blocks of the place stretched out below you.
Hardly anyone here can fly, so the schoolchicks didn't even know.

Hive Sewers

A misunderstanding- the efforts are working, but the Tineye is aware of the efforts to change how she feels. A trick of the burglar's, not something the Hive did wrong.

"No, just me. I work better alone, mostly. Sometimes I work with others, for bigger jobs. And, um, yes. I'm a Misting- a Tineye. I can burn tin to improve my senses." She's whispering now she's been told to be quieter, and gulps nervously. She really doesn't like giving away what she can do, but... But it's not impossible these guys have a Seeker or something else that lets them feel what she's up to. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing she's seen since her arrival in this strange city.

I get it. The misunderstanding is all on the hive's part.

"Maybe you can work with us."
The stalker has confirmed then there's no one who knows that the Tineye is lost down here right now.

"Tell me about Mistings. Where do they come from? Why tin?" Her voice isn't loud, but it's not a whisper.
Some of the hive creatures, especially hounds, do have a sensitivity to the supernatural. But Allomancy isn't like anything they're familiar with. However, asking about special powers is one of the standard questions.

[Deathkeeper]

[Lot]

Well. At least Nick should be able to hit someone for an unlicensed building project.
Against all logic and reasoning Nick sits down on the lift with his gun and presses the button for the lift.
This is a terrible idea. But he feels like he’s an expert on mysterious glowing holes. Maybe this time it’ll be something easier to deal with.
Knowing this city it could be anything from a hostile alien mind, complete with a cult, to Fortuna’s living room.

[Earl of Purple]

Quaint Victorian Deathtrap- Upstairs

Well... That's not a book Jack's planning on keeping. It can stay here, and hopefully get rotten and decay. Had it been less creepy weird, she'd have considered keeping it for herself.

Jack grabs the notebook to flick through, the coins and the other Relic. She's going to try fitting them together, see if that works. The deed is ignored; Jack doesn't recognise it, and wouldn't want this particular house even if she did.

Stuck Square

"It's the air. Magic in the air." She's quite fascinated by the animals swimming through the air. Particularly since none of them are panicking, which she'd expect from a fish that didn't feel wet. Illusory fish really would be easier. Jack wonders, briefly, if it would be possible to drown in the aquarium, despite the lack of water.

In a two dimensional environment, does 'above' really have meaning? Does the shadow get bigger and blurrier as it gets higher, blocking more light at the cost of definition? Not that it stops Jack's shadow.

Hive Sewers

"It's from a world called Scadrial. Mistings are Allomancers, but we can't burn all the metals. Just one of them. Tin, in my case. A full Mistborn can burn pewter, iron, steel, brass, zinc, copper, bronze, and atium too." She's missed out gold, but as the ability is widely regarded as useless, she's not alone. Atium happens to also be very scary.

[Chaotic Bob]

[A Small Chapel]

Outside presents a slightly nicer view of the city than G'nichi had left last night. Certainly still not "the good side" of town, but it seems less probable that you're going to be mugged walking past any given alley here.
And no evil fogs, rat cultists, or creepy monoliths. Just sunshine, a couple people walking down the road, and relative (for Inside) peace.

Which means it's the perfect place for him to stand right there, that spot a little further to the left, and lift the staff up in both arms towards the sky. Hands a little lower on the shaft, there you go.

The girl, unsure of what precisely is going to happen but recognizing basic magical safety, scoots a short distance away to watch.

From G'nichi's perspective, the heart at the top of the staff glows an enormously bright shade of pink that blots out his view of the world for just a moment, before it condenses into several ribbons of light that fire off into the sky and arc down towards varying destinations within the city. After another moment or two, all the couple feet of ribbon closest to him fades away.
There is a feeling of rather intense satisfaction from the staff, but no outward commentary as of yet.

Someone else has that.
"Um. Wow."
What the little girl saw was something wildly different.

As our hero brought the staff up above his head, the flash of light painted over his surroundings with a backdrop of purple and stars. His own details were scrubbed out leaving him a pink silhouette with glistening points reminiscent of jewelry flicking into existence across his body. An eye blink later and these jewels have spread across his body, smoothing and fading into the shape of clothing.
For a moment, the girl could have sworn she heard music, but when she tried to focus on it, the whole scene was over.

"That's very pretty."

It won't take him very long to notice the big white gloves on his hands, or to hear the jingling of the large bell tied to his neck.
Looking down shows that he has now been garbed in a very fashionable white and turquoise dress, studded with multiple very-large buttons to hold key parts of the torso cloth together, a pair of stylized wings at his hips, and some large white boots with golden metal toe-to-sole covering, terminating in a heart shape over the top of the boots.
Somewhere in there, turquoise stockings have found their way over his feet. There is also a similarly-colored ribbon tied to the end of his tail.

It's all very comfortable, despite how one may expect these things to be on a lizardy frame.

[Golden Flock Orphanage]

Melissa has decided the group is continuing on to the back! Very unilateral of her.

This door, of course, leads to the orphanage's kitchen. Most of the food in here has been long-since removed/destroyed, but many of the implements remain. Either the cleaners didn't get around to removing them, or didn't think it necessary.
There's a fairly long counter running along the wall directly to the left, upon entering the room, with a large double-sink in the middle of it clearly intended to be the primary location for washing dishes and utensils. There are cabinets and shelves on the right side.
In the middle of the floor are the various cooking devices one would expect in a larger kitchen, in the forms of ovens, stoves, larger pots, and cooling racks. The opposite wall, beyond, is more counter-space and cabinets.

The gloom in here is primarily the normal sort of lightless, breezeless gloom one can expect, though the atmosphere still shuffles slightly in the presence of the group. Perhaps some of those anti-ghost materials, or just the presence of their life at all.

It doesn't take long, upon their entry, for the sounds of fingers tapping on the ceiling directly above them to disturb the house's silence.
Tap roughly once every second, tap directly over the heads of whoever is furthest to the back at any given moment.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

[Deathkeeper]

[A Small Chapel]

G’nichi shudders. He’s gone most of his life without being enchanted, and now this keeps happening to him.
You said you were going to help with my problems, not give me a costume change in the middle of the street. G’nichi demands testily as he glares at the staff. He does, in fact, notice the bell.
”A bell? Did you dress me like a cow?” Or a cat. Neither of which he is. G’nichi pulls at the costume’s chest. It really shouldn’t be so comfortable.
Please tell me there was a point to this. he asks the staff. The other weapons are being judged for not warning him. And the little girl is being temporarily left out of the loop.

[Chaotic Bob]

[A Small Chapel]

Aw, you look adorable! See, the cute little girl agrees!

The girl is not judging his interesting clothing decisions. Too busy admiring that great bow on his tail.

And I have absolutely found seeeeveral ways to help you! See the ribbons? Pick one and follow it! At the end of the trail be the treasure you seek!
The last part is thought in a really terrible pirate accent that the staff clearly wasn't trying too hard with.

It could be worse. I talked her out of the wig.

[Deathkeeper]

[A Small Chapel]

The rapier gets a very heartfelt mental thanks.
”Well, thank you for taking me in. I have been given a quest and must follow it. But please, visit the temple of Bahamut sometime. I can properly thank you once I’m settled in again.”
G’nichi silently chooses one of the ribbons to his left.

[Ionbound]

[Creepy Victorian Deathtrap - Below]

Melissa grabs a pair of trousers and a button down shirt from the closet that fit her relatively well, having to readjust her size for swollen muscle mass and the other mutations. She finds herself occasionally rising up onto the balls of her feet as she walks and has to make herself walk flat back out into the hallway as she looks around, still wondering if and when the grand staircase will reappear. When she hears the shuffling from the smoking room she takes a few steps back from the door even though she's relatively far away, and starts looking around for a way to get away from whatever will come out of that, even as she raises the sword defensively. More oil right now would be bad, after all, and that's all these things seem to explode into.

[Chaotic Bob]

[A Small Chapel]

The girl acquires a bit of an awkward tinge to her smile at the mention of the Temple of Bahamut, but the goodbye wave remains sincere enough.
"Good luck on your quest! Try to get beat up less this time!
This is generally good life advice.

Anyway! Following the ribbon!
If you waaant, we could flyyyyyyy.
Purely as a convenience to him, also possible so the staff can have an excuse to blow up those hip-wings to massive size and giggle maniacally as they soar over a very confused city.

Either way, they end up at their destination.
Which is a small, beat-up looking well in the middle of a pleasant-enough park. It's actually a bit out of place looking, surrounded by all the well-maintained benches, bushes, and such.

What looks to be a white cat of some sort is curled up on itself, sleeping on the edge of said well.
The conquering hero has arrived at his destination!

[Deathkeeper]

[A Small Well]

G’nichi deigns not to fly. He is not sure he’s up to that without practice, despite being a dragon-god worshipper.
And so they arrive at a well! How...humble.
So...am I here for the cat or the well? he asks the staff.

[Chaotic Bob]

[A Small Well]

Both!
Very helpful, staff, thank you.

I advise caution, this sounds familiar.

Now G'nichi! What next?

[Hattish Thing]

Chalcedony House Gemstone Museum

The glass and the locks on all the cabinets are alarmed, disturbing either will trigger a remote alarm- presumably in whatever office or control centre where the person who spoke to the unconscious oaf on radio is located. Possibly further afield, too. The alarms work so long as electricity is running through them, so if Larza wanted to risk it, she could possibly disable the alarm by following the wiring and cutting it where it enters the room. Alternately, the floors of the cases aren't alarmed; if Larza could manage to break in from below without disturbing either lock or glass, she might be able to avoid them entirely.

The goblin frowns a little as she realizes how difficult this may end up being. Breaking in from below seems the easiest possible course of action, but terribly demanding, physically. Rather than put herself through that much extra work, she'll attempt to follow the wiring back before cutting it with her handheld laser.

"Come on, now..."

[Moonrise]

For about ten seconds, even before lighting the stranger up, Orrey just stares into his face. The other man might sense that a good deal of men before him have seen this same unanimated, unamused expression mere moments before a violent death, but no such undue violence is offered. All at once Orrey is smiling again, beaming with a joviality that never climbs above his nose. Never touches those flinty eyes.

"There now," Orrey says after lighting both of them and stowing his little lighter away with a smooth motion. "Now we can talk."

Orrey falls back in his chair, leaning out of the light. He's just an unremarkable seeming silhouette with a ripped-up voice, a torn ear, and oddly broad shoulders... almost unnatural in the set of his body.

"You're speaking my language, friend, have no doubts," he goes on. "Who else is there?"

Deadlight stares back, his mind briefly flashing back to the last time he'd seen someone stare at him that way. It didn't frighten him then, but circumstances had been wildly different. This was far more unnerving, given that the vast support network which was once in place to protect him no longer existed.

Fortunately, there was little need for trepidation, as it turned out. "An explosives expert, an anarchist, and a computer operator, I believe."

[Deathkeeper]

[A Small Well]

Well. How very “helpful.”
G’nichi kneels down and tries to gently wake up the cat.
”Um. Excuse me. Please. I think I could use your help.”
Maybe. Instructions are unclear.

[Hattish Thing]

A Pickpocketing!

For the last month, Marco had been patrolling the streets of Inside as his more violent alter ego, busying himself with relatively low-pressure cases in order to establish a presence for his vigilante persona as well as provide assistance to the city's general pressured. These were far less lethal crimes, crimes which demanded a far different set of skills than what the Skysider was used to.

One such case happens to all but fall into the vigilante's lap, for as the thieving gith rushes into an adjacent alley, the vigilante drops down from above, just in front of her.

--

The vigilante appears as a man clad in a suit of futuristic kevlar. Layered plates of some high-tech metallic material form a kind of breastplate upon the vigilante, with the same metal having been cast into bulky gauntlets and greaves to allow for additional protection. A number of small rectangular panels have been built into the armor, most of which glow with a soft white or red LED light. A black helmet rests upon the figure's head, supported by a kevlar cowl which obscures all but the man's lower face, which is itself secured by a metallic chin-strap.

The vigilante drags a hexagonal-patterned cloak behind him as he descends before the gith, and a powerful looking firearm can be seen at his belt. Immediately, he'll speak in a mechanized voice.

---

Spoiler: Reference

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[IMG][/IMG]

[Chaotic Bob]

[A Small Well]

The cat is awoken!
It unfurls itself and stretches, a rather long and plush tail flicking out in the air behind it, as a small mouth demurely and silently yawns.
Eyes more like little blue gems than actual organs look G'nichi up and down, while it rubs a paw on one of two almost rabbit-like ears hanging below its more cat-like ones.
These latter long-ears don't seem especially healthy, however, almost gray and seem to be pierced by what looks like shattered pieces of some gold jewelry.

Absolutely not-
It's fine! It's fine, it doesn't do...uh, that here.
There is an untold story here that the staff is not elaborating on.

The cat, meanwhile, fixates more on G'nichi than his fun tools.
What sort of 'help' are you seeking, young man?
Oh look, more voices in his head. Must be getting pretty crowded up there, huh?

[Deathkeeper]

[A Small Well]

Oh boy. He was expecting a magic cat. But this is even more magic than he was expecting.
G’nichi reminds the staff that he has five other ribbons to follow and that if this one is risky he would be fine walking somewhere else.
...he also decides to ask the rod for input. It seems to be the most wise (and powerful) of the bunch.
”I have recently been...blessed with these magic arms, and have found myself wanting in physical ability to use them. I have been seeking something to help me to that end.” he tells the magic cat, leaving some details out.