Apotheosis: Shadows of a Bright Republic (IC)

[Bloble]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Volcania

"Yeah, I joined the Girl Scouts. We're selling cake. Chocolate. Ice cream. Red velvet."

Volcania looms over the man, grinning.

"Heard through the grapevine you might be interested. How's about it, pal? Feel like listening some more?"

[Plue]

Ad Astra
Noonish
March 11, 1000 AS (After Shattering)
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown


Aaaa... "You're dumb."

"Yes, it's stinky and ugly here but that's not what I'm afraid of. That's not the clock ticking down that we have to watch out for." Did anyone else realize just how scary the republic could be?

"There might not be internet the day we get to... wherever. There will be the next day." She wasn't going to be living in a squalid hole in the ground; where she went civilization would created.

"Does a minefield work? An array of turrets? No no, it's fine... just go on and tell us how terrible the further away outside world is. I hate the outside -here- anyways."

[Mormarth]

Dorothea Ionescu
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

Nostrils flare out and eyes narrow as a small, simple black flat takes a single step forward.

It is slightly stained approximately two centimeters inward from the toe.

"I would thank you, to not call me some charlatan, or that I am someone who preys on people's good nature and need for a assistance, my good man."

There, in the slight muffling by door and hardened glass, there is a noise on the edge of hearing.

For most purposes, you can apply certain adjectives to noise, one can be loud, or quiet, booming or hushed.

This one sounded sharp.

"Another individual may take offense to the words of a serpent, nay, even serpents have their pride, a worm who hides in his burrow and sneaks away secrets. Spewing your falsehoods and your simpering slime from that hole of yours as if we do not know what you have done, what you are continuing to do, lacking in the barest minimum of esteem."

A frown.

"Tell me, good sir, what you were doing. Please give me a good reason as to why I should not put that useless scrap of muscle and sinew out of your mouth?"

[BladeOfEden]

Markus Braun
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

Markus watched as the three women headed towards the office.

He followed them, quietly making his way downstairs.

Catching the door as the women made their way inside, the man behind the desk seems startled. Clearly, he wasn't expecting visitors.

With one foot inside the office, Markus leaned against the doorway, watching cautiously.

Office is off limits, Pompeii. Gonna have to ask you to leave. You and your...

The man had caught sight of him. What's worse, he seems to think he was a part of Pompeii'smerry band.

Yeah, I joined the Girl Scouts. We're selling cake. Chocolate. Ice cream. Red velvet. Heard through the grapevine you might be interested. How's about it, pal? Feel like listening some more?

...Listening?

Ah. They thought he had been spying on them. He had heard such practices were common in the city. Surely they must have been aware of such things...

Still, they didn't seem to pleased about it.

Tell me, good sir, what you were doing. Please give me a good reason as to why I should not put that useless scrap of muscle and sinew out of your mouth?

Yikes. This one was not playing around.

Should he step in? Maybe try and calm things down?

...No.

If he had been listening in on them, this man had brought such consequences on himself. It was not his place to get between the two parties.

Still... Something seemed off.

The man looked as if he was waiting for something. He didn't seem too frightened either, especially considering who he had been spying on.

Did he not realize what these women could do?

Or... had he already taken the proper precautions to deal with them?

[Eru Erufu]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Dorothy, Volcania, Gabby, Markus


"Alright, alright!" Cornelius raises both of his hands in a sign of defeat. "I was hoping to get some of the good dirt; can you sue a guy for wantin' to make a quick cred? Why you all got your panties in a bunch 'bout this anyways? Not like you were talkin' about anything worthwhile. Cake? Really? Fuckin' cake?" He collapses back into his chair. "Rent my goddamn conference room just for their damn baking club. The nerve of some people." He grumbles.

"Also, hey hey hey!" He points to Dorothy. "Watch it, toots. I ain't no worm: I'm a proud bottomfeedin' fish." He pauses for a spell, before saying: "Wait, shit, that's just a fishy worm." Cornelius, perhaps seeking to find the weak link in the group, turns to Markus for help. "Help me out here kid: these dames are nuts!"

While the back and forth with Cornelius rolls on, Gabrielle is perhaps left slightly out of the loop. This isn't her world after all: the seedy underbelly of her city is hardly the place she's best traveled.

Deep in her gut, she feels a slight tug urging her to leave the taverna. A comfortable, familiar tug (though she's never felt it before. How strange) attempting to gently lead her by the hand as a parent would their child.

---

Paul, Astra


Tang sits and listens to Astra rant with a bemused expression on his face. A face Astra likely knows well: the expression of a man who's been through far too much as he pities a naive dreamer. "If ya say so, kid. I know I'm dumb, but I've lived a lot longer outside the ivory walls o' the Republic. It ain't 'bout the weapons: a bow'll kill just as well as a gun in th' right hands." Tang furrows his brow, deep in thought given for him this must be a hard conversation. He's no philosopher after all. "Ever seen a machineman wearing people like animal skins? The goddamn worst slave markets of the Aventine? What about a band o' skerrymen killin' a town in a single night." He lights his cigarette, taking a deep puff and letting the smoke out slowly. "World's a fucked up place, kid, and not everyone wants th' killin' to stop."

A flicker of movement outside the window of the conference room catches Paul's eye as Astra gets her lecture from a grizzled war vet. And then, in an instant-

Time stands still.

Astra is frozen mid-retort to Tang, the Ren man's smoke cloud lingering just above his head. The electronic music from downstairs gone. The talking people, the noisy lovers the next room over, the angry business partners screaming about their deal gone wrong. The whole world falls silent and still.

And right next to the window he sees her. A teenage girl in a white, punk outfit swinging by the window on a nearly invisible wire. From her belt, a katana (one with an impossibly beautiful sheathe) dangles in the air. And in the next instant, the girl is gone without a trace. Naught but the pungent smell of roses and rust lingers. Roses, rust, and the unmistakable whiff of divinity.

And time resumes

[Mormarth]

Dorothea Ionescu
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

"It is considered rude to eavesdrop, I am told," She said stonily, the 'sharpness' of the air around her, even with empty, open hands, fading, "And even if you are a bottom-feeder, you should have some pride as a man, now apologize for your impugning upon my honor as a physician."

If he was going to act like a sulky child, then she'd lecture him like one.

"Are you truly so blind and embittered that you cannot accept even the slightest hint of charity as fact?"

A sigh.

The question was not precisely directed at the man in front of her.

He had not been the first to question her, and he would not be the last.

She half-turned away, sweeping her gaze out of the glass window.

"I would also accept the name of your buyer, if an apology is too much for you."

[Bloble]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Volcania

"Yeesh, laying it on a bit thick, aren'tcha? Guess I'm playing good vigile... just cough it up, Cornelius. We'll be outta your hair after that."

[Elyrin]

Gabrielle Monet
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

A strange feeling. To be more specific, a feeling that should have been strange, but felt normal. Familiar, even. That was a form of strangeness itself, wasn't it?

Another revelation, perhaps? Maybe one more immediately relevant than Paul's?

Well, I can't really bring it up now. Deal with this guy first, go see if Paul is alright, then we can head out.

"You'd think a guy would be grateful to have simple, safe business like ours, wouldn't you? No danger, not bringing any potential trouble for the good owners or the other customers." Gabby pouted a little, doing her best 'great personal offense' impression. "On the other hand, Volcania. Do you know anyone who might want to hear your buddy Cornelius spies on 'private' conversations? No harm done to us, but imagine if word of something more serious got out to the wrong ears!"

Jumping right to ripping the guy's tongue out might have been a little extreme of the doctor, there, but there was no harm in making him a bit nervous. Some nice, healthy fear was good for the soul.

"Of course, if Mister Cornelius is truly regretful, no one will have anything to worry about, right?"

[MssrNeko]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Paul Copperbell

Time returns to normal as Paul chokes on his water.

Hacking up a waterlog lung he lumbers over to the window to get a better view. All he sees is the normal hustle and bustle of dock workers and industry. Paul face grows whiter as his stress level reaches new heights. It is clear that no one saw the girl except for him thanks to the mysterious powers he has.

Paul has no clue what this girl wants. But the vision Paul had earlier...

Paul could hide away and let this gang of ne'er-do-wells get arrested. The SRD would put them away and he could sneak away back to his normal life. Of course, he'd have to do something about the computer girl but Paul would work something out. Just an application of power and she'd forget all about this middle-aged salaryman. Paul would be free to return to his boring... normal life.

For another ten years or so...

"H-hey!," Paul stammers out, tearing his view away from freedom. "We got a problem."

Between gulps of water, Paul explains to the other two what had happened in the stopped time.

[Eru Erufu]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Dorothy, Volcania, Gabby, Markus


"Christ Almighty, fine. Just don't cut my damn tongue you ya crazy meretrix!" Cornelius finally caves under the combined onslaught of the three girls. "But you ain't gonna be happy: I dunno much. Some broad wearing a Corsair: sealed-helmet and all. Her jugs weren't anythin' to write home 'bout, and that's 'bout all I can tell you." He holds up his hands in defeat. "Now just promise not to tell Bro about this. He'll have my scalp for spying on customers again."

Their elusive spymaster now sort of known, they have a bit more to work with. A woman of lithe build in a MC&T Type 951 Light Exosuit, also known as the "Corsair." Expensive as they are, only the bored children of rich executives and top of the line hired guns could afford such an expensive piece of military hardware.

"We good now? Swear by the One's many names, I don't know nuthin' else. She offered loads of creds, Pompeii. Loads. I hadtah!"

When he tells the group the amount, it certainly is nothing to scoff at. For the purposes of our game, the amount he was offered for any useful information equated to 2 points of Wealth: the sum total of an upper-class doctor's entire net worth.

Clearly someone wants to get the straight dope on our heroes.

---

Paul, Astra


"Fuckin' time stop? Really?" Tang spits onto the hardwood floor of the conference room. "I've heard horror stories abou' theurges tha' could do that, but I always figured they was bullshit. The fuck do we do against an enemy that can stop time other than send the Suit here-" he gestures to Paul. "Out to kick her ass. No offense, Paulie, but you don't exactly scream 'front line fighter to me.'" He scratches the back of his head, looking a bit sheepish about insulting a literal demigod.

Regardless, with the story shared what will be the upstairs crew's next move?

[Bloble]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Volcania

"Sure, sure. I don't tell him about your little operation, you don't tell him about my bar tab, and Publius can keep on having a good time out there. Just don't go ratting on our cake operation again."

The tall barbarian is totally unfamiliar with any Corsairs, so she reasons it's something to do with her new status. Perhaps one of them really was a snitch, or had had their powers witnessed and a mark placed on them, or maybe Astra wasn't as subtle as she thought she was. Either way, she doubted it would be over so simply. There was trouble afoot. The fear writ upon Paul's nervous expression promised as much.

"In that case, girls, I'm getting me a drink and chatting up some of those Ren boys," she proclaims, confident in the next move as she eyes up the bar and spots a free space next to her marks. "Seems like they could use a pick-me-up, and I could use a bed warmer or two. Now are you gonna come with, or are ya too scared of the dark to have some fun in it?"

[Mormarth]

Dorothea Ionescu
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

An indelicate snort from a seemingly delicate looking lady.

"Of the many things I have been called by men of the empire, equating me to a prostitute is fairly mild," She smiled, "Please show the men and women who you pay to tolerate you some respect."

A small pause, as she continued to survey the drinking hall through the window.

"Cornelius, was it? I will remember that. I've got a good memory."

Her head shifted to regard the giant in the room. Dorothea sighed, then shuffled in her pockets to produce an old, tarnished-looking watch.

She squinted at it.

"While I do have some time to spare, I do have patients that have no doubt already started piling up, need to reduce backlog before it's more than the sad and out-of-work I have to deal with, so I'll have to decline your... invitation."

They'd have to be real hunky to get her attention this early.

Another gaze across the bar, "There are some individuals I'm passingly acquainted with out there, I'll ask around and see if they've seen some sign of this armored lass skulking around."

A pause.

"Should also probably let the fellows upstairs know about the conclusion to this little bit of attempted... 'cake blackmail'."

Maybe let someone who's used a 'phone' longer than her.

[Elyrin]

Gabrielle Monet
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

"Ehhh. Don't suppose there were any Ren ladies mixed in, were there?" What had Volcania said? They might be the gang whose boss was in deep shit? Could be worth looking into. Maybe a bit more to go on than this mystery lady in power armour. But then, there was that strange feeling from earlier... "Well, if you need a wingwoman, sure. Doesn't seem like the Doc is up for it. I shouldn't be staying too long, though. I have a feeling there's something I should check up on.

[BladeOfEden]

Markus Braun
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

Help me out here kid: these dames are nuts!

…Nope.

Markus knew better than to get involved in the quarrels of strangers.

After all, it was his own fault that had gotten him into such a situation in the first place. Besides, it seemed that the other two women were less keen on getting their hands bloodied over such an offense, at least compared to the one with the sword.

So long as they were there, things shouldn’t get too crazy.

Christ Almighty, fine. Just don't cut my damn tongue you ya crazy meretrix!

Markus’ eyes narrowed as he glared at the man.

What a vile person.

Sure, he had known that the city folk were a bit less polite in their choice of words, but in the area where he was from such language would have only been used in the most extreme of circumstances.

But you ain't gonna be happy: I dunno much. Some broad wearing a Corsair: sealed-helmet and all. Her jugs weren't anythin' to write home 'bout, and that's 'bout all I can tell you.

Markus did not care about the man’s explanation for his eavesdropping.

In fact, he didn’t even hear him, for his mind was already flooded with emotions.

Of the many things I have been called by men of the empire, equating me to a prostitute is fairly mild. Please show the men and women who you pay to tolerate you some respect.

Markus turned his eyes to Dorothea. Her calm words and small smile disturbed him.

She did not look upset. She did not even look surprised.

Why was she letting him talk to her in such a way?

…She shouldn’t be letting him talk to her that way.

He turned away from the group, unsettled and grimacing.

He wanted to say something to her, to tell her that man was full of nonsense and to not let his words bother her.

He didn’t.

For some odd reason, he got the feeling that doing so would be an insult.

A wave of melancholy flooded over him.

No one should have to take such slander with a smile.

[Plue]

Ad Astra
Noonish
March 11, 1000 AS (After Shattering)
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

Astra shivers as Paul explains what just happened. Even with all the power she had now there was nothing she could sense of the passing time ghost. The meat head was right, at least on this. A stopped clock and all perhaps? A nervous giggle escaping. Stopped clock. Ehehe.

"If they just went by I don't think they were looking for us or they would have done something. I think? Probably. Maybe."

As full of confidence as she sounds. How many other Godlings were there in the slums here? Finding her own pantheon had been hard enough, and she hadn't seen signs of any others. Was something else influencing her search that she didn't notice? Steering them together?

"It... might be best to make our way downstairs? Even if they weren't looking for us."

[Eru Erufu]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Dorothy, Volcania, Gabby, Markus

"Fine, sure whatever. Now scram." the Akeh man gives a long-suffering sigh. "You crazy bats can bake your granny cakes in peace."

Despite his bravado, he shivers when Dorothy proclaims boldly that she'd remember his name."Just don't wear it out. Now get outta here and saw people's legs off. Or whatever it is you do in that clinic o' yours."

Unfortunately for Gabby, the thugs that she and Volcania approach are all firmly men. And right ugly ones at that: tattooed and covered in grime. Aside from the Tullii's whores, there doesn't seem to be much in the way of women here.

"Fuck you want, Vorcano?" The least grungy of the thugs, a Ren man, spits at her feet. His Dulimbai accent is thick: so much so that she has trouble making out what he's saying. "Cause probrem somewhere erse. We're trying to rerax and you scaring away pretty women." He sends a lecherous grin Gabby's way (he's far too familiar with Dorothy's reputation to even attempt that), several of his teeth missing. "Hey rich girr! Very rost, yes? Herp you find way home! Bahaha!" The group of man erupts into uproarious laughter, and the man stands up, sticking his chest out and standing a mere inch away from Volcania in a staunch show of defiance. "I think you reave rich girr and run before you get ass kicking."

One of the Sea Ren visibly begins to sweat. "Um, Bai, I don't think that's a good idea-"

"Shut the fuck up, Pranav!" At Bai's rebuke, the young Sea Ren shirks away. "God you so bitchy. You rike srave girl I used to own! Nag nag nag! Arways nag!"

---

Paul, Astra

The upstairs duo (plus Tang) arrive downstairs right at that moment, seeing Volcania chest to chest with the Ren thug "Bai," and shit's starting to roll downhill. They can't hear what words are exchanged over the thrum of the music and roar of the crowd, but that doesn't stop Tang from placing his hand atop his sheathed sword and rushing to Volcania's side. "Shit! Them's Wu-Shen boys."

[Eru Erufu]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Dorothy

While everyone else is doing their thing, Dorothy sets out into the crowd. Several people within are those she's already met before, and many whom she's treated in the past. Several invite her to dance, but they answer her questions nonetheless. Most don't seem to really know much, but one particularly rough looking fellow (more MAFIA-type looking than street gang-type) blanches as Dorothy describes the girl she's looking for. An impressive feat given his Akeh heritage.

"I don't know what business you have with the Reaper, Doc, but you would best be served stayin' far away from her and her ilk. Leave it at that."

[Mormarth]

Dorothea Ionescu
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

She ventures into the teaming masses of humanity, present even now, as the sun sits high in the sky. She is greeted warmly by the community, some more cordial, some expressing deep thanks, a gaggle of aggressive-looking fellows clad in leather and reeking of oil and tobacco cheer her name as she passes.

Their leader had been struck down and dealt the dual blows by his rival (via pipe) and the road (via physics), and she had managed to restore him to fit condition some time ago.

He insisted on keeping the scars, saying he 'didn't want to look like a fucking pussy who'd never been in a scrap'.

They did look particularly roguish on him, and the blush he got when she told him so looked endearingly boyish.

Perhaps she would pay him a visit when things were less fraught.

The dregs, the low-lives, the rejects, the scraps of the desperate working poor.

Her people, essentially.

She's turning away from gracefully declining the invitation of a posse of women in tight clothing to dance with them when she's met with the steady gaze and stolid demeanor of a Made Man.

Unlike the punks and rascals she'd seen earlier, he is cut from a different cloth. She remembers the night he was brought to her, grim-faced men, coal-colored suits, hard silence.

But they paid generously (to Miss Patricia's gratitude), and their leader had doffed his hat and bowed to her personally.

He flinches when she makes her inquiry, dark skin lightening several shades.

'The Reaper', hm?

"Unfortunately," She murmured, "It would seem that this 'Reaper', or her compatriots, have an interest in me, and I don't wish to be at a disadvantage should they come calling."

A dip of the head.

"But if you feel it is too dangerous to explain further, do not risk yourself on my account. I am no merchant who looks for repeat customers."

[Bloble]

March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown
Volcania

"Oh you don't need my help to scare away the girls, hotshot. Been keeping that toothpick dry just fine on your own."

The air grows hotter. Beads of sweat creep down the men's foreheads and down their necks from their hairlines. Volcania looms over the stout man, a foot of height separating them, her smile growing wider and wider.

"Your boss has a noose around his neck and you're here yukking it up. I feel sorry for that slave girl. If she knew her owner was such a sissy she would've done way worse than just nag."

She leans down to the man's level, staring him down as the air sizzles, her anger inflamed. It's as if the sweat is evaporating from her body from the sheer heat. But that's impossible, of course. The dimly-lit tavern air must be playing tricks.

"Throw the first punch, bitch. Or start talking for real. Either way, you're singing soprano tonight."

[Elyrin]

Gabrielle Monet
March 11, 1000 AS
Around Noon
Tullii Taverna, Harbortown

Gross.

Gabby probably should have expected that. It was Harbortown, after all. Not that she'd been in the area often, and never for long, but some things you should just know, right? Sheer force of will and nothing else held Gabby's face from twisting into a disgusted grimace, and she placed a hand on the giant woman's shoulder. Or her arms, at least. Her shoulder was pretty high up there.

"Easy on the man, Volcania. His boss is in shit, he might be out of a job, he's probably here to drown his sorrows. Poor guy might just break if you push him too hard." Well, more like she would break him, but still, there was some genuine sincerity in there. Not much for a gangster who owned slaves. But a little bit. Gabby gave the man a sweet and only moderately condescending smile as she turned to address him, suppressing a shudder all the while. "Um, sorry, but if you picked a place like this to unwind, can you really afford a girl like me? Seems like your budget doesn't even cover one of the ladies here..."

Just keep smiling, Gabby. Maybe he'll get pissed and start swinging, that'd be nice. Or maybe Volcania's scary enough to get him to give up. That'd work too, I guess.