Trog's Tavern CLV

[Ironsmith]

The swordsman turns to look at the... lion... eagle... whatever it is that has wandered before his eyes. "I, uh, I would be fine with some water", he says warily, but doesn't otherwise protest the attempt at first-aid by the... creature. He watches curiously as the light sinks into his blackened arm. Slowly, it stops steaming. Then, the blackened parts begin to flake off, revealing pristine skin underneath. For a brief moment, the swordsman's veins glow blue as he flexes his muscles and looks at the end result. The wounds on his face close and fade away, not even leaving scars. Even his lost hair grows back slightly, leaving him with a side buzzcut.

"Well that was handy", he remarks, sheathing his swords. He gives the lion-eagle-thing a respectful bow. "Thank you." He slightly adjust his wrecked clothes and turns towards Miranda.

"It felt like an evil spirit to me", he says, pointing up to the ceiling, at the spot where Magtok Prime's ghost vanished. "I have some experience hunting down and exorcising such things. I can go after it if you need me to. Its tracks are still fresh, following such great malice ought to be easy."

At the corner of the bar, someone is clapping their hands. "Now THAT was some quality entertainment!", one of the patrons hoots. He turns out to be a man with his hands and face completely obscured by bandages, dressed in a black leather jacket and camo pants - the very same who recently renamed himself "Sandels". He gets up from his hiding place and walks closer to the dissolving remnants of the millipede.

Should someone pay very close attention, they might notice the Ouroboros symbol on the bandaged man's jacket is identical to the version on the swordsman's cloak - though the latter might only be partially visible due to the garment's overall sorry state.

Miranda nods slowly as she takes this in. Evil spirit. Okay. That... seemed about right. It was definitely evil, and probably a spirit. This swordsman was offering to go after it; that seemed prudent, given what it had managed to do when left unchecked.

And that's also around the time Miranda would notice the Ouroboros symbol on what was left of the man's cloak.

She blinks and rubs her eyes, trying to decide if she was seeing things correctly. That... had to be a coincidence, right? No way this man was a Terahn, or from her Earth. The Ouroboros was a relatively common symbol for recursion, and a fairly basic one; this man probably wore it for completely different reasons from her.

Still, as far as signs from the universe go, that one is pretty brazen.

"Well, then. If you're going after Prime, I'm going with you." Miranda flicks open her Hotbox and pulls out a fresh jacket, slinging it over her shoulders. "I might not be an exorcist, but I've done my fair share of finding people who didn't want to be found. And, ah, beating the daylights out of them."

Her gaze shifts as the bandaged man introduces himself and examines the corpse. "...Friend of yours?" She asks, noting the symbol on his jacket.

[Vahnavoi]

"Friend? What? Who?" The swordsman gives Miranda a confused look, then when he realizes she's talking of the bandaged man, gives him an even more confused look. The bandaged man gives him a military salute in return.

The swordsman shakes his head, turning back to Miranda. "I don't think I've ever seen that man before. Why'd you ask?"

The bandaged man walks around the millipede's corpse, carefully avoiding any remaining pools of acid or hungry mold. "Hey, if you're going to bust ghosts, count me in. I may have been too slow on the draw to help you with this one, but an evil spirit, lets say I have some experience with them too." He winks at the swordsman, then a second time at Miranda. He reeks of cheap beer. "So, which way we going?"

[Ironsmith]

"Friend? What? Who?" The swordsman gives Miranda a confused look, then when he realizes she's talking of the bandaged man, gives him an even more confused look. The bandaged man gives him a military salute in return.

The swordsman shakes his head, turning back to Miranda. "I don't think I've ever seen that man before. Why'd you ask?"

The bandaged man walks around the millipede's corpse, carefully avoiding any remaining pools of acid or hungry mold. "Hey, if you're going to bust ghosts, count me in. I may have been too slow on the draw to help you with this one, but an evil spirit, lets say I have some experience with them too." He winks at the swordsman, then a second time at Miranda. He reeks of cheap beer. "So, which way we going?"

"Coincidence." Miranda replies with a shrug. "All right. Welcome to the team, mister. Although I suppose it's about time we exchanged names, isn't it?" She extends her hand toward each of them in turn. "Special Agent Miranda Cortez, formerly of ARC, now with GLoG."

She'll wait for them to introduce themselves properly, putting up patiently with any shenanigans that might ensue, before deferring to the swordsman regarding which way Prime had gone.

[Zefir]

Arkant just stands there a little suprised that Magtok Prime is already defeated. He listens to the last message with a little worry. He isn t that afraid of him, but having another enemy mess with his plans is bad. In the end it seemed like he would clash with him anyway.

"You are welcome to try again, but we will prepare as well" he replies. He will need something to catch or destroy spirits next time. Even if that might hurt himself later.

In the boys mind Arkant has been in the same position. Even with the Chaos he didn t enter futher.
" I guess this is goodvy for now." He just says. With the guard here and all the heros he doesn t want any more trouble.

Then he gies over to the frontline fighters.
"Tracking a spirit now might be hard so try search at a place called Magcave. I think it used to be his hideout. Or that of his clones like him" he points at the one who burned and now is extinguished. "If he really build his body, then he needs a factory or a lab."

[Lord Magtok]

Oh good, the fire's out. That's...that's good, yes. Magtok would pick himself back up off the ground if he wasn't missing half his limbs, but...wait, hold on, I think we have a solution for this! Okay, alright, after a few errors in quick succession and falling flat on his face onto the floor a few times, Magtok (the regular one, not the Prime ghost jerkface who just vacated the building) successfully manages to reactivate the hover implant in his spine! He reorients himself without tipping over and crashing to the ground, checks to make sure June isn't dying horribly, and then turns back towards the-

"Robot possessed by an evil ghost showed up after tossing a guy in a purple dress through the front window."

"It's not a dress!" Magtok exclaims, before he catches himself acting on his usual silly instincts instead of properly appreciative of the people who just saved his useless hide from the most terrifyingly one-sided conflict with his own creator and genetic forebear. With a weary sigh, he reaches into his pocket and wordlessly shoves a disgustingly large sum of cash at June, as a clumsy sort of thanks for saving his life, before drifting over to the dead cyborg body that once housed Prime's malevolent spirit. The design isn't too far from the kind of machines he's built himself. It'd take some time and a new pair of replacement limbs first, but he could probably reverse-engineer some of what made Millipede Prime so terrifying, maybe even isolate a potential weakness. Of course, there's no guarantee that the next cyborg shell will have anything in common with this one, but...

"Raptor Christ, I always knew I was the clone of some kind of lunatic, but I didn't know he was that ****ing awful," he mutters, mostly to himself, before ripping one of the insectoid legs out of its socket and pocketing the thing. He spares a glance towards the nutjobs that seem to be gearing up for a rematch, the lunatics that seem deadset on letting Prime finish them off, but doesn't say anything to them. Best not to engage them in conversation. Last thing we need is for one of them to take note of our cyborg and try recruiting him for their ghastly little suicide mission.

...And then Arkant has to go and ruin everything by suggesting where they ought to investigate next.

"Hey, no! The MagCave is my place, not his! He'd already been gone for years when I built it, he doesn't get to take credit for-" Magtok falters, his indignant expression sinking into utter dismay in an instant. Oh crap, that's exactly the sort of loud exclamation that's going to get these lunatics asking questions. Right now Magtok just wants to lie on the floor and drink himself into a coma; he doesn't have the time or energy for questions. He just lost an arm and a leg and got set on fire today, hasn't he had enough for one day? Please, gods, don't make him explain his entire backstory to some weirdass strangers with a deathwish. Don't make him try to rationalize and explain his entire mess of a life to these nosy weirdos. Let them ask Zee or Reinholdt or some other unlucky bastard for the exposition. Please.

[Vahnavoi]

The swordsman gives Miranda a slight bow. "Star of Hope Shines Eternal in the Pitch-Black Universe."

The bandaged man looks at him, snickers, then coughs and turns towards Miranda, offering his hand for a shake. "... and I'm Sandels. Nice to meet you."

The formalities are interrupted when Arkant draws their attention to Magtok. Both the swordsman and Sandels begin to stare at Magtok just before the cyborg cuts his protest short.

Sandels points a finger at him. "... hey. You're the guy who got thrown through the window."

The swordsman looks over Magtok crippled form, noting the missing arm and leg. How the cyborg is managing to stay upright (sort of) is obscure to him. He glances at Arkant, then turns back to Miranda "Do you know who that is, Agent Cortez?", he asks, nodding towards Magtok. "Do you want to interrogate him before we leave? He looks too badly injured to take with us."

The swordsman isn't too keen on conversing. Most of his focus is on keeping track of Magtok Prime's psychic signature and trying to plan a route through the city. He doesn't have the luxury of going through walls... well, he could go through some walls, but the resulting property damage likely wouldn't appreciated.

[Ironsmith]

Oh.

Hmm.

Customers need drinks and Zee is hugging a crying child right now. And unfortunately this is all ONE SCENE so the typical disynchronized nonsense would really be stretching things right now. So to that end she calls out, "Hey Selekhael? Would you mind getting some drinks for Fenric and Honeysuckle? Fox cola for Fenric, a Tipsy Fox for Honeysuckle. Double whisky on the tispy. I need to-"

She glances down and rubs the back of the poor traumatized child's head some more.

"-comfort this kiddo some more."

And then a guardian arrives!

"Hey Kyrie you missed the party," Zee says. "Robot possessed by an evil ghost showed up after tossing a guy in a purple dress through the front window."

Will Magtok shout that it isn't a dress? The answer to that mystery remains to be seen.

"He did a bunch of spooky stuff but thankfully physical injuries were pretty limited. But... it was traumatic."

Arkant just stands there a little suprised that Magtok Prime is already defeated. He listens to the last message with a little worry. He isn t that afraid of him, but having another enemy mess with his plans is bad. In the end it seemed like he would clash with him anyway.

"You are welcome to try again, but we will prepare as well" he replies. He will need something to catch or destroy spirits next time. Even if that might hurt himself later.

In the boys mind Arkant has been in the same position. Even with the Chaos he didn t enter futher.
" I guess this is goodvy for now." He just says. With the guard here and all the heros he doesn t want any more trouble.

Then he gies over to the frontline fighters.
"Tracking a spirit now might be hard so try search at a place called Magcave. I think it used to be his hideout. Or that of his clones like him" he points at the one who burned and now is extinguished. "If he really build his body, then he needs a factory or a lab."

Kyrie nods slowly, not sure whether the lack of physical injury was good news or bad news. On the one hand, if Arthfael had been physically hurt, he could recover fairly easily, provided his heart survived the ordeal, but psychological damage wouldn't heal so readily. On the other hand, even as much as Zee downplayed the threat, Kyrie could tell Prime was dangerous; if his nephew had been in the line of fire, he likely wouldn't have survived.

Arthfael's recovered just enough to mumble something to Kyrie, looking furtively over at Arkant.

Kyrie scowls and turns on the man, marching up to him angrilly. "Mister, you and I need to have a little talk." He growls. Maybe he'd been too late to do anything about Prime, but Arkant had also harmed his nephew and he'd gladly take out his anger on him.

Arthfael's grip on Zee tightens again, as fresh flashes back to the encounter race through his mind. "I....i-i-it hurts" he sobs quietly. "W.. why did the voice hurt?" Part of him seems to have trouble comprehending exactly what happened; psychics were a new experience for him, after all.

Oh good, the fire's out. That's...that's good, yes. Magtok would pick himself back up off the ground if he wasn't missing half his limbs, but...wait, hold on, I think we have a solution for this! Okay, alright, after a few errors in quick succession and falling flat on his face onto the floor a few times, Magtok (the regular one, not the Prime ghost jerkface who just vacated the building) successfully manages to reactivate the hover implant in his spine! He reorients himself without tipping over and crashing to the ground, checks to make sure June isn't dying horribly, and then turns back towards the-



"It's not a dress!" Magtok exclaims, before he catches himself acting on his usual silly instincts instead of properly appreciative of the people who just saved his useless hide from the most terrifyingly one-sided conflict with his own creator and genetic forebear. With a weary sigh, he reaches into his pocket and wordlessly shoves a disgustingly large sum of cash at June, as a clumsy sort of thanks for saving his life, before drifting over to the dead cyborg body that once housed Prime's malevolent spirit. The design isn't too far from the kind of machines he's built himself. It'd take some time and a new pair of replacement limbs first, but he could probably reverse-engineer some of what made Millipede Prime so terrifying, maybe even isolate a potential weakness. Of course, there's no guarantee that the next cyborg shell will have anything in common with this one, but...

"Raptor Christ, I always knew I was the clone of some kind of lunatic, but I didn't know he was that ****ing awful," he mutters, mostly to himself, before ripping one of the insectoid legs out of its socket and pocketing the thing. He spares a glance towards the nutjobs that seem to be gearing up for a rematch, the lunatics that seem deadset on letting Prime finish them off, but doesn't say anything to them. Best not to engage them in conversation. Last thing we need is for one of them to take note of our cyborg and try recruiting him for their ghastly little suicide mission.

...And then Arkant has to go and ruin everything by suggesting where they ought to investigate next.

"Hey, no! The MagCave is my place, not his! He'd already been gone for years when I built it, he doesn't get to take credit for-" Magtok falters, his indignant expression sinking into utter dismay in an instant. Oh crap, that's exactly the sort of loud exclamation that's going to get these lunatics asking questions. Right now Magtok just wants to lie on the floor and drink himself into a coma; he doesn't have the time or energy for questions. He just lost an arm and a leg and got set on fire today, hasn't he had enough for one day? Please, gods, don't make him explain his entire backstory to some weirdass strangers with a deathwish. Don't make him try to rationalize and explain his entire mess of a life to these nosy weirdos. Let them ask Zee or Reinholdt or some other unlucky bastard for the exposition. Please.

The swordsman gives Miranda a slight bow. "Star of Hope Shines Eternal in the Pitch-Black Universe."

The bandaged man looks at him, snickers, then coughs and turns towards Miranda, offering his hand for a shake. "... and I'm Sandels. Nice to meet you."

The formalities are interrupted when Arkant draws their attention to Magtok. Both the swordsman and Sandels begin to stare at Magtok just before the cyborg cuts his protest short.

Sandels points a finger at him. "... hey. You're the guy who got thrown through the window."

The swordsman looks over Magtok crippled form, noting the missing arm and leg. How the cyborg is managing to stay upright (sort of) is obscure to him. He glances at Arkant, then turns back to Miranda "Do you know who that is, Agent Cortez?", he asks, nodding towards Magtok. "Do you want to interrogate him before we leave? He looks too badly injured to take with us."

The swordsman isn't too keen on conversing. Most of his focus is on keeping track of Magtok Prime's psychic signature and trying to plan a route through the city. He doesn't have the luxury of going through walls... well, he could go through some walls, but the resulting property damage likely wouldn't appreciated.

Miranda mulls that over for just a second before handing Star of Hope a little silver ball, about the size of an apple. "Get after him, take this beacon with you. Sandels and I will catch up after we're done here." Of the people in the room, the purple-robed man with whom Prime had an apparent grudge would appear to be the best source of intel. Too much so to pass up as a matter of expediency.

Miranda approaches Magtok, pulling up a trio of chairs from a nearby table. "And as for you..." She begins, setting her Hotbox down nearby. "If you know anything about Prime, I suggest you share. Forewarned is forearmed, as they say." She reaches into her Hotbox and pulls out a tin of white ointment, which has the rough consistency of yogurt and smells subtly of vanilla. She dabs a little on her finger and starts gently applying it to Magtok's burns, which should dramatically reduce the time it will take for them to heal if his physiology is at all similar to that of a human. If nothing else, the soothing salve should feel so much better than the tavern air on Magtok's burned skin.

[Fenric]

Fenric takes the soda with a smile, and opens it with a satisfying "psssssht".

Thanks!

He fishes the appropriate coinage from his belt-pouch and places it on the counter, then takes a sip and looks around to see if anyone might be trying to flag down a priest.

[Recaiden]

"Thanks, weird transforming bartender."

Hmm. Slightly toasted Magtok over there, people planning something over there, mechanical millipede covered in mold and cheese over there...
This all seems like a pretty normal day in Trog's. Why does she think something strange is going on?
Honeysuckle suddenly looks away from the little glowing ball that she's holding, sheepish. Psychic stuff, huh, that does explain it.

A moment later, she waves at Fenric. "Hey, you a wizard?" He seems like he might be a wizard. Which means he might know something useful!

[Fenric]

Fenric nods

Dual class wizard/cleric, but close enough. What can I do for you?

[Recaiden]

The little ball zips away from Honeysuckle's hand, hiding itself in her bag.
"What kinda cleric?" There's gotta be at least....a lot of them in the Nexus, some good, some not so good.

"I think I might be cursed." She is, as it happens, incorrect, and not technically cursed at all.

[Rebonack]

Hostile psychics are, in general, a terrible experience for everyone involved.

To have alien thoughts and emotions insinuated into your mind?

To have phantom sensations assail your body?

It's an experience that invokes terror to say the least.

Zee has been on the receiving end of all sorts of nonsense over the years. She's learned to endure whatever nonsense might be thrown her way

But for a child?

She can't even imagine what that nightmare must have been like for a child.

And so she just holds Arthfael snug in her arms, rocking him gently and rubbing his head.

"Ssshh... it's okay. It's all over now," she assures him soothingly.

Oh it will absolutely be all over now. If Prime decides to set foot in the tavern again she's going to be a little less deferential regarding his expulsion.

[Ironsmith]

Not that that was going to be a problem. Kyrie was right; Arthfael never should have come to Trog's. This was a dangerous place to be an obviously-vulnerable kid, even with Zee and potentially Kyrie looking out for him. Add that to the fact that it was still a tavern, and Arthfael had no business being here. Like, at all.

Really, what he wanted to do now was just go home. Go home and stay home. Where the worst thing he has to worry about is squabbling with his sisters or his uncle chasing away the mailman again. He couldn't take any more of these robotic millipedes or creepy scientists or jelly girls or-

...Well, okay. Maybe jelly girls.

But the risks of being outside far outweighed the benefits. He didn't want to be out here anymore.

[Fenric]

The little ball zips away from Honeysuckle's hand, hiding itself in her bag.
"What kinda cleric?" There's gotta be at least....a lot of them in the Nexus, some good, some not so good.

"I think I might be cursed." She is, as it happens, incorrect, and not technically cursed at all.

Fenric smiles nostalgically

Inari, miss. I would like to think I'm on the good side.

Then he looks sympathetic

That should be easy enough to determine: there is a spell specifically for checking, if you wish.

[Recaiden]

"Oh, yeah, Inari's is alright. Kinda stuffy, but alright." 'Alright' meaning pretty good actually. And what deities aren't on the stuffier side?

"Oh, really? Would you cast that for me?"

[5a Violista]

The slimegirl, in that way-too-large space under the counter, takes off her useless earmuffs now that the fighting's over, and just focuses on resting while letting the vibrations of the more normal conersations help her relax.


June,
meanwhile,
is not dying horribly. Other than her very bleeding lip, she's better off than Magtok.
Sure, her hair's singed and her right arm is going to develop 1st-degree burns and her (admittedly cheap) t-shirt is now trash, and she has a seriously awful headache, but at least she has all her limbs.
She thanks Cosmo for helping.

So much for investigating cultists today, she's not really in a state to do that by herself now.

June balls up the top and presses it against her mouth to get the bleeding to stop, hopefully.

She then looks at the disgusting pile of cash.
Ugh.
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, exhales, then grabs just a couple bills to cover a replacement top. Out of habit, she slips those bills into her bra,

June grabs the remainder of the disgustingly-large stack and goes towards Magtok and the robomillipede.
She shoves the disgusting stack right back at his hand. (It's a clever tactic, she thinks, because he only has one hand and can't use the other hand to reject the money.)
She would say something, too, but she's currently too busy trying to stop her mouth from bleeding more.

Trying to not give him a chance to reject the cash that she's already rejecting, June heads straight towards the bathroom (taking extra care to not head into the dungeon bathroom this time) so that she can check all her injuries and get some distance between her and her headache.

[Fenric]

"Oh, yeah, Inari's is alright. Kinda stuffy, but alright." 'Alright' meaning pretty good actually. And what deities aren't on the stuffier side?

"Oh, really? Would you cast that for me?"

Fenric smiles and nods

But of course.

He concentrates briefly and then casts the good old fashioned Detect Curse spell.

[Recaiden]

Honeysuckle waits for the spell, tails waving back and forth.

Now, we said just a moment ago that she wasn't cursed. For most purposes she's not cursed. And the thing she thinks is a curse isn't a curse.
But, if you were to look with a specific curse-detecting spell, you would see something. Very faint. A curse upon an entire world, every rock, every cloud, every living thing, forever. It's a subtle thing, just a little nudge to one's feelings and fortune. But it's there.

"Well?"

[Fenric]

Honeysuckle waits for the spell, tails waving back and forth.

Now, we said just a moment ago that she wasn't cursed. For most purposes she's not cursed. And the thing she thinks is a curse isn't a curse.
But, if you were to look with a specific curse-detecting spell, you would see something. Very faint. A curse upon an entire world, every rock, every cloud, every living thing, forever. It's a subtle thing, just a little nudge to one's feelings and fortune. But it's there.

"Well?"

Fenric tilts his head

Well... that's rather odd, to be honest. There's not much, but a faint and subtle if fantastically broad-reaching bit of a taint really. But you'd never know if you weren't looking for it like I just was. There's nothing you'd conventionally consider a curse as such. Could you explain more about what is happening?

[Recaiden]

"Huh."

Honeysuckle decides she needs another sip of her drink before continuing.

"Well, re' was this time-traveler and this spirit-"
No, wait, that's telling it all out of order.
"Uh, things keep catching fire or exploding, and not the way they're supposed to. And maybe I've been blacking out and forgetting stuff? Not every time."

[Fenric]

Fenric blinks

Well! That certainly explains why you thought you might have a curse. Do you remember when this started?

[Recaiden]

"It started back when-"
"Feels like it started back at the lunar eclipse."
"But maybe actually started a couple months ago, when I went on day trip to this mountain resort."
Possibly the weird eclipse was in fact just a weird eclipse.

[Zefir]

Arkant was just pointing out the obviouse. He's not sure why he get's a glance. He just doesn't know better.

"Oh it is?" he says as Magtok claims the place for him and not prime. "I was told the former Magtok build it and after his so called death his clones tooks the place, but on a second thought if you own the place I assume you haven't build that thing. Which means he has another hideout somewhere else."

Then the stranger comes to him. He is not sure what thie person wants especially since he didn't harm the boy. He just talked.
"Excuse me, but I don't know what we may have to talk. If it's business you can call my secretairy for an appointment."

[Ironsmith]

Arkant was just pointing out the obviouse. He's not sure why he get's a glance. He just doesn't know better.

"Oh it is?" he says as Magtok claims the place for him and not prime. "I was told the former Magtok build it and after his so called death his clones tooks the place, but on a second thought if you own the place I assume you haven't build that thing. Which means he has another hideout somewhere else."

Then the stranger comes to him. He is not sure what thie person wants especially since he didn't harm the boy. He just talked.
"Excuse me, but I don't know what we may have to talk. If it's business you can call my secretairy for an appointment."

Kyrie scowls. He wouldn't have patience for this kind of thing at the best of times, but his proverbial fuse had already been burnt to a nub and he wasn't exactly in the mood to put up with any obfuscation.

Without any further warning, he'll attempt to grab ahold of Arkant and turn him to face his nephew.

If he's successful, he'll launch into a brief monologue. "You see this kid here? That's my boy. You let yourself into my boy's head. If you ever do anything like that to my boy again, I'll tear you into fish food. Have I made myself clear?" He will then promptly release the man.

Assuming he manages to grab him, of course. If Arkant sees it coming, this is likely to play out very differently.

[Fenric]

"It started back when-"
"Feels like it started back at the lunar eclipse."
"But maybe actually started a couple months ago, when I went on day trip to this mountain resort."
Possibly the weird eclipse was in fact just a weird eclipse.

Fenric hmms

I would have thought something with the moon would show up as a curse... tell me about the resort? Anything noteable happen?

[Purple Eagle]

[COLOR="#0000FF"]Jade shakes her head in response to Mirai's defensiveness. "I didn't think you did. But... It's weird, I know, but I don't want to go back. I feel good how I am now." She takes another long sip of her beer.

[Jade and Mirai]

Mirai sighs in relief, and then smiles at the second part of Jade's speech. After also sipping her beer in silence, she nods and grins. "Never thought I'd say this, but I can understand why. It only took me until after I got cured to realize it."

Mirai's wrist beads start beeping and she looks down at it. "Ah, effects'll be fading soon." Her voice is the first casualty, it's back to Mirai's original deep baritone. "See what I mean about voice training? I could be on some spy mission undercover, the voice'll be a dead giveaway."

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok narrows his eyes, as he begrudgingly pockets his own money. He's not comfortable with owing debts to anyone, so if June thinks they're even after she held onto however much she deemed appropriate, fine. These nincompoops trying to shake him down for information, however, these clueless fools who think their triumph over Prime was anything but luck...

"Do you want to interrogate him before we leave? He looks too badly injured to take with us."

These fools and their assumptions were grating on his nerves. He doesn't want to bothered with all the tedium and troubles that go with helping them, but he really, really doesn't want them to look down on him. Prime ripped his arm off before he even entered the tavern; do they think he couldn't do the same to them if he were so inclined?

"Put the sunscreen away and get me my arm and the biggest intact chunk of leg off the floor," he glowers, waving a dismissive hand at the lady trying to treat his burns, before taking hold of that salvaged leg he pulled off of Prime, holding it up to his scarlet prosthetic eye, and running a scan of the thing to glean as much intel as he can.

"I'm Magtok. Owner of MagCorp, one of the original founders of AMEN, a retired ex-supervillain, and savior of the entire universe once or twice. You may have heard of me," he remarks with a weary sigh, knowing full well that they haven't. Kids these days don't know a damn thing about this world's history, about the wars and apocalypses and gods that have risen and fallen before they were ever born. The public education system in Inside is an absolute joke. He's so glad he's never paid any taxes to the inept baboons in charge of the city. They'd probably spend the money hiring Reinholdt to protect them, those fools.

"Fourteen years ago, or thereabouts, Prime, the original Magtok, Magtok Classic, the bastard ghost who came in here with a giant millipede robot body, died. His hidden laboratory decanted a fresh batch of clones, which I think were supposed to be possessed by the ghost, the same way that millipede was. He never bothered to show up, though. In fact, this is our first time ever seeing him since fourteen years ago, so New Magtok, the Nexus's Magtok, The Magtok Who Would Become The Magtok Talking To You Now, The Magtok Who Had None of Prime's Memories or Personality or Anything, was free to just take over that secret lab and figure out how to succeed in life all on his own. That Magtok wasn't keen on repeating Prime's mistakes, so he set up a memory transfer system, a database where every clone's memories would be regularly uploaded to the cloud, so every Magtok would be the same Magtok, essentially. A hive mind of Magtoks, each as expendable as the last, so long as we kept the cloning vats and memory banks operational. The world was a lot more dangerous back then, so this was absolutely necessary to survive if you were just a mere human, like I am. Do you follow so far?" Magtok asks, hoping against hope he's dumbed this down enough for the primitives to comprehend. If someone's nice enough to hand him his arm, he quickly sets about re-installing it, making use of some exotic tools and gadgets hidden away in his robe to reconnect torn wires and meld the metal exterior back together again. He's actually remarkably talented when it comes to self-repair with only one arm, almost as if he built his own body from scratch, and has had lost arms like this countless times before in evil underground laboratory mishaps.

"Anyway, Prime dropped by the MagCave and said it was time for me to stop existing and using the name 'Magtok' without his permission, so I telewarped outside Trog's to try to-" He pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase 'use you dopes as a distraction while I run away and escape the ensuing bloodbath' in a manner that won't offend anyone or make it look like he was exploiting them for his own personal security. "...to try to not die. Before I could open the tavern door, though, he tracked my telewarp signal and appeared right next to me, telekinetically lobbing me right through the window. And that's where you lot came in."



Meanwhile, the swordsman will have no trouble at all following the psychic signature. It clings to the air like a thick fog, tainting the atmosphere wherever it goes with a heady aroma of blood and smoke. Nightmares of genocide, fragmented thoughts of inhumane experiments on political dissidents leave a trail to Magtok Prime's location. Star of Hope probably won't know it until he leaves the tavern and starts following that trail, but it leads straight to a run-down factory on the edge of Skyside's Thunderhead district. A seemingly abandoned factory of no real significance that should've been bought out or seized by force months ago, given the cutthroat nature of the city. Reall, that kind of prime real estate, left alone in a city full of tycoons warring over every acre? Absurd.

[Recaiden]

Fenric hmms

I would have thought something with the moon would show up as a curse... tell me about the resort? Anything noteable happen?

Honeysuckle starts to answer, and gets a little less coherent as she goes.
"Real nice place. Art, hot springs. But kinda sad, town had forgotten their culture and methods. Nothing sinister, just, time went by, nobody cared to remember the old town."
"We, uh, sent some things back in time ta save a sick lady, 'n got a blessing from a mysterious spirit, 'n my friend grew an extra tail, 'n uh, some other things yeah."

[bc56]

Jade listens with interest. Soon is an understatement if it's wearing off so quickly. "If you're undercover, I feel like a voice shift like that will be noticed even if you know how to partly cover it up." She considers the idea. "I'm sure if you needed to, you could get a longer-lasting version of that potion you're using. Or if it needs to be really drastic, I've heard there are people who can permanently alter your appearance." She shrugs. "I guess in a place like this there are a lot of ways to get the same result."

[Fenric]

Honeysuckle starts to answer, and gets a little less coherent as she goes.
"Real nice place. Art, hot springs. But kinda sad, town had forgotten their culture and methods. Nothing sinister, just, time went by, nobody cared to remember the old town."
"We, uh, sent some things back in time ta save a sick lady, 'n got a blessing from a mysterious spirit, 'n my friend grew an extra tail, 'n uh, some other things yeah."

Fenrick blinks and looks concerned

Ok... miss... Um, I don't seem to recall your name, and I have been remiss in introducing myself: I am Fenric. Unlike poor multiply cloned Magtok over there, I'm the original. I just kinda... left... during the big wars. Made staying alive rather easier.

Anyway, something is very clearly interfering with you and I think it is safe to say it originated at that instance. I'll refrain from saying "time" since you already indicated time-travel was involved...

Never a good idea, that: time travel causes so many problems even if you're careful. Fenric envies the folks currently in charge of the temple who come from a world where causality is personal and immutable rather than universal and fungible. But Honeysuckle is probably not looking for a discussion on either temporal ethics or comparative metaphysics, so he leaves that be.