I'm un-stabled, I'm not a show horse

Your interesting hypothetical question for the day.

Let's say...someone comes into SL after a long absence. Has a certain draw, charisma, appears to be connected even though no one not from that era really recognizes the name. It is an old SL name. There are some very old accounts who know who this person is. As far as can be told from the outside, the account seems to be held by a fairly well funded tech hobbyist, at the very least.

How should people best engage with this person? Is aggression, negativity and backstabbing useful? It may have removed this person from SL's sphere of influence for some time, but...the avatar seems to be back, with no real intent to leave. So, even if aggression, negativity and backstabbing had been used in the past, is it at all useful now?

Would befriending this account be a better idea? Or if not befriending, at least tolerating?

Let's toss in something else. Let's say this person is very loyal to friends, very supportive of friends, in all ways, and very much death, at least in a philosophical sense, to enemies. Wouldn't it be easier to be a friend? Wouldn't it require far less effort than declaring direct opposition?

You have someone, in essence, who's willing to throw away monthly rent on a studio apartment in New York, effectively, in perpetuity, without monetization--is fighting this person in the best interests of anyone, long-term?

I'll leave you with one statement from the avatar in question:

"I tried for years to build things that complement or [are] part of existing estates. Given the aggressive behavior trying to drive me away, I decided to just build my own space."

Isn't that what Des did? Isn't that what the Clockwinder did? Isn't that why Baron Wulfenbach now has his own sim? That they just wanted to build things they wanted to see in the world? Why is this wrong?

But the more people try to drive this kind of creativity away, the less the person behind the creativity is going to care about your projects.

At the end of the day, no one is asking anyone to fall in love with this particular account. Not hating him would be good. Not trying to spin falsehoods about his motivations would be great. But there's a great deal of live and let live going on. This avatar is not interested in making things untenable, they're just tired--we're all tired--of other people making the situation untenable.

So maybe that's the last point, after all. If you can't like this account...if you can't tolerate this account...can you at least employ basic civility and realize that honey will work better than battery acid in the long run? He's been willing in the past to support a variety of projects, and it's only prevalent, constant, dunning distrust and rumor-mongering that's driven him from supporting many things he did in the past. He's still able to offer support. Maybe even could be talked into it again.

But not as long as things stand as they are. Who wants to play in a space where they're distrusted, sniped about, whispered about? Where their motivations are constantly second-guessed? Where the rumor mill constantly grinds? Who wants to go back to that sort of high-school environment?

Where's the creativity in that? Where's the joy in that?

That's all. Just something to consider.

alternate of alternate timestreams (part VI)

(Continued from part V.)

Justine jumped down from the mech to the street, then grinned, and climbed up the legs again to jump down a second time. Emilly heard things rattling in the office above. The blonde woman just shook her head, grimacing.

"It's a good thing the Governor is off on business, or else the jails might be full."

Justine tried to look chagrined. The crinkling of her eyes betrayed her inner glee.

The Duke simply shrugged. "For what, Doctor? Nothing has happened...no one's hurt..."

The dark-haired woman called up to the blonde as she headed towards the raised sidewalk. "Don't worry, Doc...wherever they ask me to go it can't be worse than L̸͎̠̼͑͗̏o̵͈̹͙̼̱̅̓̆̏͜š̸̛͈̗̞͍̝̉͐͂t̶̟̄̒̽̄̚ ̴̦̺͗́͂͝͝S̷̢̪̿h̵̲̦̾̾ǫ̶͎̞̳̔͂̋͒̚ŕ̴̠̱͒͊͘̕̕è̶̢̺̞͚͊͛̄̄͠s̶̲̱̳̃̕ͅ!"

That was another phrase that hurt, Emilly thought, putting a hand to her temple. Hiro briefly looked at her, then walked forward.

"No one's hurt," he repeated, then his voice lowered to a murmur. "Except me..."

Emilly casts a glance back at the blonde on the balcony, then back at Hiro. "Don't tempt her..."

The blonde, meanwhile, threw her arms up, sighing volubly. "Well, I am going to have to pick BULLETS out of the walls near the radio station...MINOR complication..."

"You don't want to go destroy killer clowns," Hiro muttered. Emilly peered at him again.

"Who doesn't?"

He just shook his head, and she sighed.

"Let's go see this painting," she said, following after them.

Hiro nodded once, decisively. "Mr. Companion Detective--"

She tilted her head at that. Detective? She thought he was a doctor.

"--Lady Orr--Duchess," he corrected, and again she tilted her head. Why had he said 'Lady' to begin with?

"--I'll summon a portal."

The dark-haired woman tilted her head now in puzzlement. "Not the painting first?"

He paused, blinking.

"Duke?" Emilly asked carefully. Down the street, Justine had finally finished packing the mech back into the small case.

"Wait for me!" she yelled, running towards them.

Hiro looked at her, then back at Emilly. "We need the painting?"

Emilly shrugged. "Dunno."

It didn't take them long to get to the weathered hotel the woman was apparently staying in. She unlocked the front door, heading up a very similar set of stairs to their office. She paused just before opening the door to her room.

"No judging," she said, and Emilly blinked.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

(Continued in part VII.)

so, where is the Duke, anyway? (part CLVIII)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CLVII.)

A fragment from a past not ours...

When the Malaclypse struck Aetheria, the people had only a handful of months to prepare. The best mages from all the competing courts drew together and pooled their energies, extending the time remaining enough to build generation ships--ships large enough, powerful enough, that some might survive long enough to settle a new homeland. One by one, the Radiomaster watched the ships blink out of range of the scanners, and knew it was finally time.



He'd elected to stay behind--someone strong enough had to, to hold the spells distorting the flow of time around the planet. But that time was drawing to a close, and he, along with the interwoven threads of all the spells, would be torn asunder when the planet's core exploded. Malathian, they had managed to slay, finally, but his destructive will yet moved through the very soil under the Radiomaster's feet.



He made final preparations, laying in his narrow bed in the highest tower. He had no idea how far the shreds of distorted reality would extend. He hoped, for all their sakes, it would be confined to their own star system, but--even that surety had been stripped from them with Malathian's curse.



He breathed out, slowing his heartbeat, his breathing, his skin chilling with his efforts. He had done all he could. And with one last flick of directed thought, he let go of the massed spells. A brief moment of searing pain, a sensation of shattering, and the oddest feeling of being watched, by a--cat? In the guise of a man?



Then even that was gone, and the fragments of Aetheria raced through the time stream, to land where they would.



And the fragments of destroyed Aetheria raced through the timestreams, some ending up on a place known as Tanis...

so, where is the Duke, anyway? (part CLVII)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CLVI.)

A *click* as the comms opened, followed by Justine's voice. "To All Duchy Citizenry. I'm going to make an attempt to retrieve the eldritch Warhead. All assistance welcomed."

Laurence’s voice on the channel: "Message received, support is now on its way, over."

"Ruhroh," said the bard.

"Oh, no," said the Duchess. "Okay, I'll change."

"All units, report?" she heard Justine say, as she found an outfit and flew to Darktow, diving into the Dark Sea.

"Swift here," said Thomas.

"Alive and well," said Laurence. "All units accounted for."

"No work for me?"

That was a new voice. Emilly struggled to place it as she approached the site. Doctor...Anael? No. Azazel? No. Something...

"No work for me?" he said, and it clicked into place. Araphael! That was it!

She approached, seeing the flashes of light through the water. Right, there was still an active hostile. Thankfully, she had found a working weapon in the interim.

She heard Laurence laugh. "Don't sound too disappointed Doc, there are plenty of life forms here to study."

She approached, landing on the sea bottom, weapon held at the ready, and as soon as her feet were beneath her she started firing. And firing. And firing. Bolts of green sang through the dark waters, landing too far away for her to tell if she'd truly hit the remaining hostile--but the fact she wasn't getting shot back made her hopeful.

"If the Duchess isn't too busy blasting them to pieces," Laurence said, laughing.

"No, no, that was the tentacle star. We've alreeady examined one of those--up close. We don't need to capture another one."

"I'm actually relieved," said the doctor.

"Best be on guard," Laurence aded grimly.

"I think I will be fine, I am partially tentacle as well," the doctor added, and Emilly blinked. Partially what?

"All I know is, I'll be happy when we get this thing back to Tannhauser. The water right now tastes FOUL."

She watched a large flat carrier vehicle move through the waters as she walked towards the smoking husk of the last hostile.

"The sky truck seats three, if anyone else wants a ride," Justine said over the comm.

"Laurence? I can swim back up and meet you at the station?" she asked, watching Araphael climb into the back seats.

"Take the Duchess, I will secure the area," Laurence said.

"All right, then." She climbed onto the truck, watching the servos help Justine drag the eldritch thing to the back of the vehicle.

"No problem at all," Justine said. "I'm going to bring this to the hangar on level eight, and we can figure out what to do with it from there."

"Who know if there's anything else lurking down here," Laurence said darkly. She sighed, nodding.

"That's what worries me." She checked the map again, brow furrowing. "The Dark Sea ghost is still reading on the map, so be careful along the border, Laurence."

"Get back safe," he said.

Up they went, through layers of dark water, breaching into air. She coughed for a bit, converting back to breathing oxygen, and they went up, until the air became very thin. Justine touched a button and a bubble shield sprang up around the truck. It took a bit of jockeying, but finally, the cargo was in the hangar, they dismounted, and Justine flew off to park the sky truck.

"The cargo is secure in the classified hangar on deck eight," Justine said.

"Copy that," Laurence replied. "Were there any issues on the way back?"

"Not at all. Everything is five by five."

She grinned ruefully at the doctor, as the hangar doors closed, and they walked back into the station. "The one thing that went according to plan."

The doctor smiled back.

"Yes," said Laurence. "It was a nice, smooth operation."

Justine laughed. "Well, after how rough the first half of the operation was, we needed something to go right!"

"Too true!" She waved at the doctor at the lift, and went up to the command deck to leave a report for the Duke.

(Continued in part CLVIII.)

so, where is the Duke, anyway? (part CLVI)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CLV.)

"I'm in front of something stone..." said Swift, in a concerned voice.

Emilly floated in the water just offshore, watching the wreckage. "Yeah," she said. "Near Steam."

"With waving tentacles..."

Emilly blinked. "Oh, no, that's supposed to be there."

"What?" Swift asked, after a long pause.

Emilly dove back underwater, swimming to where the underwater temple used to be. She lands neatly on the sand beside Swift, peering into the well of writhing green flesh.

"Maybe I should have put up a sign? 'Harmless'? Or, at least--'Contained'?"

Swift just stared at her, then shook his head, and swam back to the gunship.

"We can't get close enough to them," said Laurence.

"I got a heat grenade type shell--try that?" asked Briggs.

"Try it!" said Justine.

Emilly swam closer, trying to edge around the remains of the ship still at the crash site.

"I've got eyes on--" Justine said. "They're firing on something!"

Emilly groaned, gouting blood into the dark waters, midsection charred. She was very, very glad she was no longer carrying the heirs.

"Me," she finally whispered, slowly swimming away, returning to the TG tram, summoning a shuttle to take her to Tannhauser Gate station. "I got too close. That...is a very big gun..."

"That shell hit!" crowed Justine.

"Damn things can repair themselves too," said Laurence.

"They--WHAT?" yelped the Duchess.

"Direct hit!" said Laurence. "One hostile down."

"[Sh*t]," said Justine. "There's one left."

"This is Gearhaven Actual," Hiro said for the third time. "Return to Tannhauser Gate. Mission scrubbed. New data to be reviewed in second mission briefing."



"Briggs, can you pick us up and get us back to the station?" asked Justine.

"Yes," he said. "Packing up now."

"Laurence, stay with me. We're waiting for extraction. Tom, you're awfully close to the crash site. Are you taking fire from the one remaining hostile?"

"On board the ship," said Swift.

As Justine and Laurence boarded, Laurence checked Justine over for wounds. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I think I'm okay," she said, holstering her blaster. "Tannhauser Command to Duchess Emilly, come in?"

Emilly didn't answer, shifting on her way up to Tannhauser, picking a form mostly at random--a pale bunny. She felt rather helpless for this fight, maybe that was why. She made her way to the command deck. Hiro was peering intently at the screen when she arrived.

"So what is our situation?" Justine asked. "We eliminated three of the four hostiles. There are still tentacle monsters. But most importantly, TOTS appears to have moved."

"Right," Emilly said, slumping into a chair. Hiro looked over with concern.

"As far as I know, the Duchess is the only one who actually saw the ship move and knows where it is."

Emilly nodded at Justine's words, even though Justine couldn't see the motion. "I don’t think the cargo's on board anymore..."

"No?"

"No, I think it's still at the crash site."

"Let's go to the briefing room. If anyone has visual recordings of the crash site, please share them with me."

Justine, back on the station, took the lift to deck 02. "Okay, let's get what we've got up on the screen here."

"This is what's left at the crash site," she said, pointing out the forward section of the ship, the various threats around it, and the--whatever it was--that had slid partially into a deep furrow behind the ship.

"One hostile, some interdimensional incursion, and...one guardian monster."

Emilly leaned forward, peering at the image. "Hiro, no," she said softly.

Hiro looked over at her, shaking his head. She sighed and sat back in the chair.

"The cargo is a weaponized eldritch warhead," Hiro said.

Justine frowned. "I...see."

"We bought it from an instance of Jack Parsons...We do need it back on the station before anyone--the Federation, the UAP, et cetera...get it."

"Oh, we get it," Justine said darkly. "It's still being guarded by one remaining hostile. We've learned that if we fire at the hostiles enough, they stop firing back briefly. We might be able to get past it and retrieve the cargo, and get back out."

"What happened to the others?" he asked. "Did you kill them?"

Justine nodded. "Chief Briggs was able to take them out with heavy artillery, before he ran out of shells. A launched heat grenade took out the last one we were able to destroy."

Justine looked down at the control panel. "Hold on...I've got a shot of the new location of TOTS." She threw up the image of the collection of scrap metal.

"And that, friends and neighbors, is where the ship ended up," Emilly said.

"That is close to GH," Hiro said. "Is the site secured?"

"It's IN Gearhaven," Emilly retorted. "Or at the very least, just edging into the Dark Sea, but on land. If you were standing at that center lithon, Hiro, and walked left? You'd be at Steam."

Justine sighed. "Well, it appears the core is no longer on fire, at least."

"No, but...it fractured," Emilly said.

"So we can worry about that later," Justine said.

"Any news on the survivor?" Laurence asked.

Emilly shook her head. "Never got close enough to the ship. Kept getting shot."

"Justine..." Hiro began. Justine startled as all the station klaxons started screaming.

"STAN! What is that??"

STAN turned the screen black, before words scrolled up:

STAN: Eldritch anomaly detected.

An image appeared on the screen. Emilly sat up in the chair. "Wait! I saw one of those! I pointed that out to Briggs when we were going to the shuttle!" She turned to Hiro. "You don't have ANOTHER of those alien--things--aboard still, do you??" she asked frantically.

"I doubt it," Hiro said.

"The fact that you're not sure fills me with dread."

"STAN, bring all station defenses online!" Justine cried out, tapping the control panel. The picture changed to something desaturated and slightly grainy.



"Please tell me this isn't a live feed," said Laurence.

"I think it is," replied Justine. "STAN? What is going on?" She rushed to a separate terminal, pulling up data from the scanners.

STAN: All defensive systems online.

"Okay, so...We have a lost weapon guarded by hostiles in the Dark Sea," the Duke said slowly. "A moving crash site close to the Mansion...We have--whatever--happened...last night...and now that." He pointed at the screen.

Justine looked puzzled. "There's nothing on the scanners." She looked up. "Laurence, can you see anything?"

Emilly looked over her shoulder. "That's not possible."

"It is if something is jamming us," Justine said.

"Are we being jammed?" Hiro asked.

Justine ran a frequency modulation bypass filter on the scanners. Laurence looked over her shoulder.

"What the hell are they?" he asked.

Emilly shrugged. "I don't know."

"I'm heading to Command Ops," Hiro said, moving at speed out of the room. Everyone else piled out after him, running to the gunship again. Justine stumbled over to the copilot seat, strapping in in a hurry.

"Shields up!" Hiro said. "Reactors online!"

"I see them! West side of the station," Justine said. "Behind the cathedral. Chief, can you take us there?"

Briggs flew around the station, zeroing in the on the targets in the gunship.

Emilly stood, starting to move towards the door, and paused. She looked down, seeing pinpricks of red slowly blooming on her white dress. She tapped her comm, not sure if it was still on.

"Guys...I don't think...the patch work held..."

There was screaming over the comms, then--

"Briggs? BRIGGS!" yelled Justine.



Emilly fell to her knees, holding her stomach. She tried to stagger to her feet, and collapsed. Everything...went...dark.

(Continued in part CLVII.)

so, where is the Duke, anyway? (part CLV)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CLIV.)



Just as Briggs reported he had exhausted his supply of shells, the radio crackled to life. It was Hiro. "This is Gearhaven Actual; Justine, do you copy?"

"Roger, Gearhaven Actual. This is Commander Johndory."

The comms lit up with cross-chatter.

"Under heavy fire!" yelled Laurence.

"All right, I can get about fifty meters from the crash site--" the Duchess chimed in.



"We've got some sort of--hellmouth--open in the center of the Dark Sea," said Justine, "and there's--something--coming out--"

"WHAT?" yelped Emilly.

Justine swerved the Stingray away from the crash site, dodging laser blasts. She turned to look at the jumpseat behind her. "Laurence! Are you all right back there?"

There was a groan over the comms. "Hit again," said the Duchess.

"Briggs? Swift? Report?" said Justine.

Laurence took off his mask, breathing heavily. "Feeling pretty lightheaded--how are you holding up, Justine?"



"This is Gearhaven Actual. Justine! Do you copy?" said the Duke.

"Standing by artillery set-up," said Briggs. "But I'm seeing some straight sights--"

"I'm all right," Justine said. "Heading for Briggs. Swift, keep outside a fifty meter perimeter from the crash site."

The Stingray was hit on the next pass. Justine struggled with the controls. Between gritted teeth she spat out "She...isn't...responding..."



"It's moving again!" yelled Emilly. She swam up, following the pieces of the mad ship. It fetched up against land again, this time--just down the hill from Steam towers. Great.

Justine regained control of the little flyer, sliding her right along the land line between the Dark Sea and...the other Dark Sea. "This is going great."

"Return to Tannhauser Gate," said Hiro.



"I'm sorry, GH Actual? Please repeat last command?" Justine asked.

"Do you have a visual on the debris field of the Bad Mofo?"

"Not at the moment, returning there now."

"Duchess...did you say the ship is flying?"

"Not anymore," she said mournfully, staring at the pile of rubble next to the TG tram.

(Continued in part CLVI.)

and passive scenes so pathetic

I present to you in its entirety, the new form of Kevin:

[12:51] llandsberg (nasya002): Hey hey

I need help, I need money for my studies, my relatives do not have it, so I have to somehow get out of it.

I need $1600 on this, but not just like that, on loan
I don't know who to turn to anymore, so I ask you
if you need to give something as a pledge-no problem

I'm asking very much, please
[12:52] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
[12:52] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Go away, Kevin.

This scammer's been on the grid for seven years, OR hacked the account of the actual nasya, but either way, it's worth the warning. Block and report if seen.

Some people. Sheesh.

I reported her for fraud and blocked her. If you see her pop up, I suggest you do the same.

so, where is the Duke, anyway? (part CLIV)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CLIII.)

Justine and Laurence swooped in on the crash site in the Mk 1 Stingray two-seater. She was quick and maneuverable, but the guns are not live, so they were basically helpless sitting ducks at this point. They deployed all sensors and began taking data.

"We're taking fire!" said Justine, turning away from the crash site.

"I have a visual on a possible survivor," reported Laurence.

"I'm going to take us in a bit closer, Laurence. Stay on those scanners."



Meanwhile, Emilly dove through the dark water, quickly growing gills to breathe. She saw part of the ship tumbling in the distance, and a fixed part straight ahead. She swam towards it, landing on the black sea bottom--and felt lasers cutting through the water near her.



She ran in the other direction, towards the moving part of the ship.



Justine and Laurence flew around the crash site, taking fire repeatedly. On each pass they relayed coordinates back to Briggs. On the sea floor, Tom Swift kept an eye on the crash site, reporting back the results of the artillery bombardment.



Meanwhile, Emilly soon found herself stranded in shadow. It wasn't called the Dark Sea for nothing, but she found herself resenting the dark sands and dark waters for the first time. It made it nearly impossible to see. She thought the ship was ahead of her--and then it was, tumbling over her and trapping her inside. They rolled unevenly along until it fetched up against something and stopped.



Now where were they?

She swam out of the cargo bay she'd been trapped in, trying to get her bearings. If they were still in the Dark Sea, and not in Tannhauser--or even Krakenstorm--she'd be surprised.



She relayed her location over the comms, and then swam back to the crash site.

"HOLY--" she yelped as another laser shot past her--or maybe it hit, as the burning line of pain on her side helpfully informed her. "Those things are long range!"

(Continued in part CLV.)

so, where is the Duke, anyway? (part CLIII)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CLII.)

Eventually, they all had something that fit, at least save the Duchess. Who frowned at the round vintage pistol she held. She wasn't even sure it would fire underwater.



Briggs looked puzzled. She shrugged. "The one gun I KNOW I have is fairly useless--Derringer-sized palm pistol. But I have been rated to carry it."

Briggs looked dubious. She didn't blame him.



"Duchess, can you keep an eye on the scanners, please? Take us in, Briggs."



Emilly pulled out her pad, watching. "Readings are...confusing. I can pick out the ship parts. I think. But there's...organics down there? I thought Hiro said the crew was rescued?"

Justine mused, "The organics could be the hostiles, or the...well, it could be the cargo."

Laurence asked, "What exactly were they transporting down there?"

"We don't know," answered Emilly. "The cargo was classified."



Laurence offered, "So what if the threat and the cargo turn out to be the same thing? God only knows what they were transporting. What are our rules of engagement if that does turn out to be the case?"

"Our mission is to neutralize the hostiles and retrieve the cargo," Justine replied, somewhat unhelpfully.

"Understood."

STAN's vaguely mechanical voice came over the gunship's speakers. "Additional intel and new secondary objective. There appears to be one survivor still on the ship. Passenger was not on manifest."

Emilly rolled her eyes again. "Oh, great."



"Hold on, here we go!" And with that, the Varyag dove beneath the waves. The crash site was barely visible through the murky waters of Dark Sea when the ship came under fire. "Retreat, retreat! What now?"

"Forget the guns, we need someone with a nuke," offered the Duchess.

John replied grimly, "I got artillery."

"Is the Prometheus in the area?" Emilly asked.

"Yeah, that one," said the Chief. "Ask Hiro, it's got big orbital cannons on it."

Justine nodded. "Okay, Briggs, head to Gearhaven and set up the artillery. Laurence and I will get you coordinates."

Emilly looked up from the scanners, alarmed. "We have bigger problems. TOTS is moving."

A mechanical voice came from her pad. "Core Computer: Ten seconds to core failure. Core Computer: Nine..."

"Damn it, ship, slow down!" cried Emilly. She unbuckled and flung herself into the cargo hold, opening the ramp, following the out of control remnants of TOTS.

(Continued in part CLIV.)

and I'll rise to every occasion (part CLII)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CLI.)

The Duchess stepped out of the shuttle, onto the warded landing platform. She stepped through the iris, waiting impatiently for the outer airlock door to fully seal and vent before she proceeded forward. Through the several layers of scan now implemented, but finally she reached the other side, and made her way to the command deck.



"Welcome, Duchess!" Justine said, waving from her chair.

"Thanks!"

"Affirmative, sir," Laurence said, murmuring into his comm on a private channel. Then he looked up. "This ship is quite impressive, does she have a name?"

Emilly looked at Justine. They both blinked.

"This is Tannhauser Gate station, Laurence," Justine finally said. "We're in orbit around a wormhole."

"Ah. Must be the dry air in the oxygen tanks making my head go funny."

Emilly blinked again, noting Laurence's rebreather firmly in place, even on the recirculated oxygen of the station. "Possible," she finally said. "Though the Rift can cause some odd effects on its own. That does worry me."

Laurence looked at her. "What kind of effects?"

"From the Rift? Time shifts, things moving places, quantum flares from the event horizon." She smiled at him. The usual, she said silently.

"Briggs!" called out Justine, watching him walk onto the command deck. "Damn, I am so glad to see YOU."

They made their way to seats, watching the large screen.



Justine--Commander Johndory, Emilly corrected herself, smiling, that was a rank worthy of remembering--looked over the team as they all wandered in. Lieutenant Laurence Scout, Chief John Briggs, Tom Swift, and the Duchess all made their way to seats. Ready to attempt retrieval of the cargo lost in the crash of TOTS.

"STAN," Justine said, turning to the screen,"send all available data on the crash site to the briefing room screen."

She waited for them to load before continuing. "These are the pics of the crash site. We still don't know exactly what the classified cargo was. The Duke did not choose to divulge that. But we should know it when we see it. Apparently we aren't the only people trying to retrieve it, which is why we're in a hurry. As the Duchess said, there's something hostile guarding the crash site. We're going to go down in Chief Briggs' Varyag gunship. It's rated for space, air and water, and there's room for all of us, and the cargo. The Chief is gonna pilot us, I'll be in the co-pilot jumpseat. When we get there we'll approach the site with caution, get a feel for the resistance and come up with a plan for getting through it. Okay?"

She was met with nods all around. "Okay, let's do this."

"Welcome, Duchess!" Justine said, waving from her chair.

Justine touched a button on the panel in front of her chair. "This image was captured as we fled the wreck of the TOTS freighter." She looked up. "Welcome, Tom Swift! Please, introduce yourselves while I take care of some things." She turned her attention to the panel again.

Laurence lowered Sebastian off his shoulder, leaving him in the station. "Mind things until we get back."

"Mrowr."

Emilly smiled at the small cat sitting, seemingly at attention, on the command deck.

"What are the projectiles?" asked Laurence. "Plasma? Some sort of energy-based, or materialistic?"

Briggs considered. "That the hostiles are using? That is still unclear. We need to do some recon, but keep enough distance that we don't take fire."

Justine nodded. "Great! Let's head up to level 01 and hit the armory before we get into the shuttle."



As they made their way to the lift, Laurance asked, "Isn't that going to be a problem? Oxygen we have very little of."

"Well, it is under seventy meters of water," said Justine. "So everyone is going to need rebreathers."

"Everyone but the Duchess," Emilly said. Laurence's expression was hard to make out through the thick goggles and the leather mask he wore, but she thought he looked puzzled. She shrugged. "I have that under control."

Zack met them when they were getting off on deck 01.

"You guys better be careful--I won't be able to intervene until at least Sunday evening," Zack said.

"Yikes," Justine murmured. "Good point, Zack. Not good attempting this without our medic on hand."

They made their way to the armory. Justine rummaged through the cupboards of the armory and loaded herself up with everything she found. "Hmm," she said, bending down. "What's this?"

Emilly picked up a gun dubiously. She wasn't big on shooting anything. At least, not with guns. It came with an eye-covering screen, and she clicked it on, pointing the gun at the target and focusing in. She endded up focusing too hard, and her point of view shot through the station, where there was a green-black...Something...hovering in the dark.

No, I'm not going to think about that right now.

She put the gun down and sighed, trying to find something she could use. Briggs frowned at her. She shrugged.

"I'm not the gun person. I'm generally the run away screaming person."

(Continued in part CLIII.)

so, where is the Duke, anyway? (part CLI)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CL.)

Emilly was carefully layering extracted samples into a gas spectrometer in the fringe lab when the comm pinged. Zack's cheerfully aggrieved voice came over the wire.

"Why is it always when I am away that I miss all the fun?" He chuckles to himself, and she grins.



"Oh, I don't think the crash counted as fun!" she commented, and heard Justine's voice on the line.

"Well, it was exciting!"

Emilly snorted, remembering a report she'd read earlier, where their court bard had gotten wedged in a fold of the evac pod waiting for the shuttle. "Especially for Rusty," she said, "who nearly smothered in sand!"

She heard Zack chuckle. "You're not helping."

Justine tsked. "Not helping is kind of my thing!"

"Mm," said the Duchess, carefully capping the glass tube and setting it to extract. "So, I had another reason to check into that area. For some reason, we have a 'ghost' of the Dark Sea. It's not ours, we're trying to figure out what's happening."

"What?"

"I decided to swim down to check the division line, to see if it was just a map ghost, or if the land actually existed? I got shot at."



Silence on the comm. The Duchess tilted her head up, considering.

"So...something is down there," she finally said.



"Argh," said Zack softly. "Ghosts are in the field of--shamanism. Not my specialty."

There was another pause, then the soft tone that announced official communication from the court. It was Justine's voice.

"All Duchy Citizens, we will be assembling on the command deck of Tannhauser Gate at 2pm SLT to go over a plan for retrieval of cargo from crashed freighter 'The One With "Bad [M*therf*cker]" On It'."



Another citizen of the realm laughed on the line. "Naughty freighter," said Kara

She sighed, smiling. She tended to agree.

"The Duchy ships are sentient," Justine said, "and choose their own names."

Emilly nodded, though she was alone in the lab. "I'll be there, though I'll likely have to change."



"I might have to make a trip to Graves for a better suit of armor for this," Justine added.

"You look fine, Emilly," added Kara.

She snorted again, looking down. She'd come directly to the fringe lab from ground level, where she'd been testing the new pool. "Bikini bottoms and a beach dress to go retrieve something from the Dark Sea? I mean..."

Kara giggled. Another bard of the court, Violet, laughed. "Emilly, if you're doing it, I believe it."

She heard Thomas chime in. "I'm in a pretty heavy rig with a VRF six barrel over each shoulder."

She hmmed, pulling out an evac suit she'd found for cheap at some event, slipping into it. She looked down at the way the molded chest arched far enough away from her torso to pretty much leave her naked. "This spacesuit's built for Kupra. I cannot wear this in public," she murmured.

"Cyberfactory?" Justine asked. "They keep doing that."

She tsked, slipping out of it and continuing to search.

"I got a great set of armour for Chief Briggs from Graves. I think we all need it."



Emilly nodded, finally slipping on a dress. It was at least more clothing than the bikini, and it would work for the meeting. "We might!" she added.

"Where is everyone?" asked Thomas.

"Everyone assemble in the briefing room on deck 2 Northwest," said Justine.

The Duchess checked the time. Just a few minutes before two.

(Continued in part CLII.)

and if you court this disaster, I'll point you home (part CL)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CXLIX.)

"We need to get TOTS out of this space. We can't lose the payload it brought back to an explosion now. It cost too much to acquire."

Hiro and Rusty leapt from the truck as soon as the hanger doors sealed behind them and they rushed to the bridge of TOTS, bringing the reactor core online and starting the pre-flight procedure. Hiro tried entering coordinates but found the automatic system unresponsive.



"I'm going to manual."

"Is that safe?" asked the Bard with his usual mien of worry.

"Nope. But it's what we've got." The TOTS began to move.

Behind them the Gate flashed, putting out a bubble of energy that was then sucked back in. The Gate went dark.

TOTS sped away from Tannhauser Gate Station, precious cargo and three members of the Gearhaven Court aboard. The Duke struggled to keep it under control as the descended towards the Dark Sea. Alarms began to sound in the ship.

Warning! Core safety limits exceeded! You have 120 seconds to return to safe operating limits before core failure!

"I'm going to fly us closer to Gearhaven and New Alexandria," said the Duke, wrestling with the ship's controls.

Inside the ship infirmary, the pod holding the Countess opened in response to the ship-wide alarms. Her eyes fluttered open and, hearing the shrill call of the klaxons, she hurried to the bridge. Hearing the door open, Hiro turned, spotting her. "Justine! Get strapped in!"

The Countess hurried to a station and buckled herself securely seconds before TOTS hit the water of the Dark Sea and plunged to the depths.

Warp error. FTL drive not responding.

The bridge went dark.

Core offline. Flight Systems inoperable. Auxiliary power activated.

Justine threw off her seatbelt and stumbled to the door, squinting for the emergency lights through the smoke. She tripped, going sprawling, then realised she'd tripped over Rusty. Grabbing him by the coat she pulled him clear of the bridge, searching frantically in the back for an emergency evac pod. She found one, partially inflated it, shoved Rusty in, then herself, before she looked back. She could see Hiro amid the flames still on the bridge.

"Hiro!! Get out of there!!"

30 seconds to core failure.

She pushed the evac pod out into open water, the partial inflation keeping them on the sea floor for now. A hatch opened on top of TOTS and a shuttle emerged, Hiro at the controls. It had barely cleared the crash site when the rear of the ship exploded.



"Get in," shouted Hiro, bringing the shuttle down beside Justine and Rusty.



Coughing, Rusty climbed in. "The cargo?"



Hiro shook his head grimly. "It's still down there. But there's no way we can get close to it now."



The shuttle raced away, barely ahead of the blast wave.

(Continued in part CLI.)

your confession means nothing (part V)

(Continued from part IV.)

The dark-haired woman smiled faintly. "My mother is not my creator. My creator...was someone else."

Emilly turned in the chair, puzzled. "Do you, ah...know your creator?"

The dark-haired woman's eyes flashed. Rage? Pain? Hard to tell.

"She was a horrid woman who ran a hotel...on a lost island that was geared only for killing...Both her daughters were made to aid in such."

"That does not sound pleasant. Or fun," Emilly murmured, then paused. But it did sound familiar...

The dark-haired woman frowned. "Mother found me when I escaped...helped me get past certain...dark things."

"That was kind of her," Emilly said, in a tone she hoped was reassuring.

The woman nodded. "And when my sister escaped she did the same for her...We both live here now."

"Mm," Emilly said. "I don't believe I've met your sister."

The dark-haired woman smiled. "I'm sorry to say, your husband may eat her."

"May--pardon??"

Hiro blinked at her, eyes wide.

She just giggled, shrugging. "Sorry, poor joke. She's modeled after a harpy."

Emilly looked from the woman, to the Duke, and back again, before the penny dropped. Oh. Bird. Cat. Got it.

Zack, meanwhile, knelt close to Justine, murmuring softly to her.

The woman nodded. "Cosette has the wings of a bird and legs of a bird, instead of normal appendages."

Justine looked up, then stared fixedly through the balcony slats at the building opposite theirs. "Everything okay out there?" she asked in a strained voice.

"I have a plant based diet," Hiro murmured, and Emilly's head whipped back towards him. He had a WHAT?!

"Is there any way to banish the remaining clown? Or...the visible clown, at least?" she finally said. One baffling thing at a time.

Justine made some gulping, hitched sound. "THERE'S STILL A CLOWN LOOSE?!"

"Oh, my gods...Hiro, she's going to have permanent trauma if we don't fix this!"

"Yes, that's what I was saying. There's one still out there," the woman in pink called up. Emilly sighed.

"You're not helping!"

Zack took Justine's arms suddnely, pulled her into a standing position, and wrapped her in a tight hug. "You are safe," he whispered, over and over.

Emilly rolled her eyes. This was obviously some new definition of 'safe'.

She turned back in time to see the Duke leap from the balcony.

"Well. That's one way to get down to street level, I suppose..."

The dark-haired woman sighed. "Well...I was hoping to ask Justine for help with the painting...But I'm afraid she may be too traumatized."

Justine squared her shoulders, stepping away from Zack. "Wait," she muttered. "I know what I need. I got this--"

Oh, no.

Emilly watched her walk resolutely towards the railing, then half-screamed, lunging from her chair. "Justine!" she cried out. She reached off the balcony as Justine launched towards street level, missing her by a good foot.

"Are you okay?"

Zack just sighed. "What is she up to, now?"

Justine staggered to her feet, seemingly uninjured from the jump, pulling out a small case. She threw it to the ground, stomping on a button. A tarnished, dark gold exoskeleton unfolded from the case. Justine swung into the pilot's seat, and they all heard the guns spin up. The shots were loud, and rapid.

The one clown remaining giggled again, and scampered up the street.

"THAT'S RIGHT," Justine yelled. "YOU BETTER RUN, CLOWN!"

The woman in pink tsked. "There's that contraption again. Don't damage any buildings! They have heavy mortgages on them!"

Justine stomped down the street in the mech.

"And haven't recouped their construction cost!"

The dark-haired woman just shook her head. "I should put her to work on the docks..."

Emilly stood, leaning over the railing again, careful not to support herself on the strutwork. "Justine! You have full permission to crush clowns! But JUST clowns, all right? Not actual people!"

That seemed to strike some dim memory, too. Of when Justine had...what? It involved the mech.

"GOOD LORD!" cried the blond. "How did she get that thing!?"

Emilly rubbed her forehead, groaning. "Ask Hiro."

"It's not ours," the dark-haired woman murmured. "I locked up all the island equipment after the last incident."

Zack frowned, now shouting over the railing as well. "She's not supposed to crush anything! Companions are not fighters! She should not be on the field risking her life!"

The clown seemed to disappear, or perhaps the rapid fire took it out. Emilly couldn't be sure. Justine whooped in victory.

The dark-haired woman looked confused. "Companions?"

"Mm," Emilly said, looking at Zack. "Companions are not fighters by design, dear. They're mediators, peacekeepers, diplomats on occasion, but not warriors."

Zack nodded at her words. Bella just looked more confused.

The platinum blonde sighed. "Justine--get out of that thing!"

"Em," Hiro suddenly called up. "Can you bring me an oat latte and a soy wrap from up there?"

What?

No, wait...this could work....another dim bell of memory went off. She rose from the table and walked into the office, calling over her shoulder. "I'll let Zack, or Kaneha, or Justine explain the Companions' Guild to you."

She heard Hiro sigh from street level. "This plant based diet is killing me," he murmured. "My doctor said..."

Which doctor? She thought Zack was the doctor. Was there another doctor? Wait, WHEN was Zack the doctor??

"Be right down, Hiro!" she called.

Hiro tensed, eyes narrowing, looking at the building to the right. "There is a rat next door," he whispered.

"Justine, get OUT of that thing!" the blonde cried.

Emilly heard the mech powering down. "UGH!" Justine yelled. "FINE!"

"I...rat..." Hiro whispered. "RAT..."

"The rat is normal," snapped the blonde. "That's the H̶̭͗̀̄ǫ̸͕̝̿̔̚͝t̴͚̩̮̑͆̅e̶̥̲̒ļ̸̰̬̩͂̈́͊͝ ̶͍̪̰̪̎D̸̻̝͐͛͜ȅ̷̞̩̥͕̅͗s̸͇̠̓͐͌͠ ̶̯̟̞͐̚F̸͖̹̿̀l̶̯͆ͅo̸̧̅ṟ̶̻͋̉͒̏e̸̔̊̏̀ͅs̸̳̖̦̾̑̃."

Emilly just shook her head, pulling a cup from the tea set on the table, murmuring as she pulled on the rim, creating a taller cup. Her words were soft, and slow, and dark, and she watched it fill with oat latte. She slid out a very small vial from the strap of her dress, briefly wondering what it was, then tipping itinto the drink. She made a stirring gesture with her finger, watching the liquid swirl. Then she carried it, and a tofu and spinach wrap, down to street level, handing both to the Duke.

He accepted them with a murmured thanks. "I do think we should return this watch to the Ringmaster..." he said after a sip.

She nodded. "Yes, I agree."

"B̸̤̺̫̦̼̹͊ȩ̴̼̮̦͉͇̙̌̈́̽͘͝l̴̡̛̛̜͂̑͂̈́ḽ̸̀ą̸͙̳͈̐̀̄̔͘, would you do it for us? We'll pay you--"

"Is that--a good idea?" she asked, her voice faint. The dark-haired woman shrugged.

"Get the painting off my wall, and I'll be happy to help. What do you need me to do?"

"We can't send Justine..."

"No," Emilly agreed. "Obviously not."

"I could go in the mech!" Justine said, swinging down from the pilot's seat. "And return the watch! AND STOMP ALL THE CLOWNS!"

Emilly watched Hiro drink, wondering when the medication would kick in. Then wondered what medication it was. She could almost remember...a hospital room, sun slanting through the bars, the Duke in--human form?--slumped on a narrow hospital bed. She was...doing...something...Did she have the watch?

"YOU need to stay away from mechs!" the blonde said, shaking her head vigorously.

"Yes," Emilly finally said, looking at the dark-haired woman. "The painting. We should attend to that, I think."

The dark-haired woman smiled brightly again, and gestured with a thumb over her shoulder. "It's this way."

(Continued in part VI.)

this ain't my goddamn cup of tears (part IV)

(Continued from part III.)

"This thing..." Hiro trailed off, staring into the distance. Emilly tried another incantation, sighing when it did nothing.

The woman at street level called up to the balcony. "D̷͖̦̟̮̦̬́̇̀́̈́̾̏͝o̶̻̝̱̤̞̞̠͎͚͑̅̔̎̇̿ͅç̸̪͓̭̳̩̪̺̒̈̿͆̕͘̚͝ͅ, Mom would love this--EEK--"

Emilly watched, vaguely horrified, as the clown on the street below danced forward, batting the gun out of the woman's grasp. Grinning.

"I know you would not tell her, B̸̛͙̮͍͌̆̾̈̽͗͆ḝ̴̘͖̙͕̳̳̮̀̂̏͠͝l̶̢̰̙̬̥͙͕̪̎̽̅͠l̶̛̬̪̗͇͂̄͐̀̋̀̈͆͜ą̵̦͓̫̌͠, and do you really think that would matter?"

It was getting easier to hear the bursts of distortion. That, or she was starting to lose her mind. Her brow furrowed, though, seeing the actions of the clown.

"My guns are useless!" the woman said, throwing the second aside in frustration.

"Oh, NO--"
Emilly exclaimed. Now she was worried--if her spellcraft couldn't banish them, and guns wouldn't work, then what was left? She snarled under her breath.

"He's so irritatingly smug."

The platinum-haired...doctor? Was she a...stepped forward, leaning over the balcony. "Okay, B̵͇̼̙͓͆͗̆̕̚͝͝è̴̮͛̀̈̂l̵͚̋̕͘̕ͅḷ̵̡͕͉̻̼͌͒̋̿ą̷̧̗̳̞͉̾̔̚͘, stand back, I am about to try soemthing--"

The dark-haired woman obligingly stepped back. "If I do the other thing, I'll get in trouble."

What other thing? That was less than helpful.

The woman in pink piped up from behind them, where she leaned against the doorway. "You can't kill illusions with bullets."

The dark-haired woman called up. "Illusions?"

Emilly frowned, looking from the scene on the street, to the woman in pink, and back again. Were they--just illusions?

"That's what psychotherapy is for," the woman said dismissively. "Though it doesn't work all that well."

"Oh, are they not real clowns?" Emilly asked. Then tilted her head. She had asked that before, hadn't she? When they were...where were they? Where had they been?

"Wait..."

The woman shrugged. "Best just to enjoy the show."

Emilly looked at the Duke, hearing someone pound up the stairs. Soon the dark-haired woman burst onto the balcony.

"Okay, I'm sorry, what are those things? I just put in enough bullets to kill a football team--"

Meanwhile, Emilly watched the Duke sit down at the small cafe table on the balcony. Pretty mosaic pattern, she thought. She took the seat next to him, one hand idly tracing the patterns. "When was the last time you took your medicine?" she murmured, then blinked. Why had she asked that?

The dark-haired woman looked at them. "May I ask you a question?"

Emilly looked up. "Of course. What is it?"

"What the heck are you people, and why is your husband calling for spirits of the East in Enochian?"

The woman in pink turned and walked back into the room. Emilly heard heels striking the stairs down. She saw the woman emerge thorugh the slats in the ornate iron railing. She walked up to the striped clown, poking it in the chest. It just grinned at her.

Emilly watched for a moment, then turned her attention to the dark-haired woman. "That is...rather a long story. How best to sum up...We're a shipping company," she began, then paused. Yes. They were a shipping company. That's what she'd told people, when they were...where?

Justine staggered out to the balcony, bracing one hand on the wall. "What's going on?" she whispered. "I think I passed out..."

Emilly looked, concerned, at Justine, then continued. "We mostly deal in...rare artifacts, spices, occasional objects of desire of various kinds...you know how it is."

Zack appeared behind Justine. "A shipping compagny that is specialized in interdimensionnal exchanges," he muttered.

"Did..." Justine swallowed. "Did someone say...'clown'?"

Hiro looked up at that. "Uh...Don't look down, Justine..."

Justine blanched.

Hiro leaned in, his paw covering her hand. "Em..."

"Hmm?"

"The Ringmaster...at the Dark Circus..."

Her attention was briefly drawn from Hiro, as the woman in pink walked up to the larger of the two clowns on the street, poking that one, too. It...giggled.

"He sent them," he whispered urgently.

Wait. Who sent who?

"The...Ringmaster?" she asked, tilting her head. "He's not supposed to be able to do that!"

Do what, she thought. What was he not supposed to be able to do?

Hiro leaned in closer, still whispering. "...and I think--I think he's after Justine..."

Justine screamed at that, running back into the office. "No no no no NO--"

Emilly blinked. "Why would he be--this doesn't make sense," she started.

The dark-haired woman looked at them. "All right...everything up to talking about a Dark Circus I understand...more than I like to admit...But why is this Ringmaster after Justine? And how dangerous is it going to be for the ȉ̶̡̢̱̜̪͍̠͕̫̺̪̮͛̔̍́̂̏͛͐ŝ̷̨̛͍̞͈̙̫͈̽͠ḷ̸̨̨͔͙͓̰͍͇̠͇̩̓̽̐̆͌̽̇̒̄͘a̴̢̨͈̫̯̰̝̮̞̒͂̌̈́̔̐͋̽̕͜͝ņ̵̠͖̭̲͉̦̣̫̲̠̼͑̓̎̈́͘d̸̛̻̪̖̘̭̲̱̳̭̭̭̀́̀̓͛̊͐̀͊͊̓̐̿̋̓?"

Oof. That burst was particularly bad. Emilly sighed. "Well, my Duke, that does move up the timetable, doesn't it? We have to find at least that portal...and close it."

Ah. Portals. Yes. She remembered that. They'd gone to...wherever this was...to investigate rifts that had appeared there, portals to...or from...other places. Hoping it would help them solve the problem of...of...

She blinked, sitting upright. Tannhauser Gate! She remembered now. The Rift they'd managed to stabilize, the station that they'd built in sections, as they needed them, to investigate. Yes. Okay. Some things were starting to come back.

"One more clown on the loose," the woman in pink called up from street level.

"Another one?" Emilly asked. Bella glanced down.

"I like clowns," she said slowly. "But I don't understand..."

"B̶͕̖̭̥̀͆̓̓́͜͝e̴̘̻͇͆̂̆̽̍͂l̸͎̪͇͍̫̣̗̅̈͠l̵͓͉̋͑̾̿͜a̶̧̤̹̹̰͉̳͊͂...we found an old castle," Hiro said slowly. "Which has many...elder...things..."

Meanwhile, the woman in pink nodded up at them. "Yes, there's one down by the radio station. Maybe looking for a better career."

Justine staggered out to the balcony again, seemed about to look down to the street, then slid down the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees, rocking.

"So there's three now?" Emilly asked. "But--wait, where did the striped one go?"

"And, well," Hiro continued, "I suspect...the Ringmaster is actually...Ń̵̴̷̷̵̷̵̸̴̷̡̡̡̧̢̢̛̛̛̠̹̥̞̻̤̺͓̱̦͕̱͖̙̗̯̰͍͈̝̜̥̲̭̲͔͎̣͓̤̣̬̥̞͍̮̝̩͆̾̀̊̓̇͒͑̈́͑́̐̀̌̉͗̍̿͌́̆͒͐̄̃̈́̇̀̓̊͆̏̿̇́̚͜͜͠͝ͅͅy̴̷̴̵̷̶̴̷̢̡̡̛̛͖̞̥̝̣̰̤͙̣̬͎̩̭͎̦͔̤͕̘̼̯͈̪͖̯̺̝͚̹͇͋͑̈́́̂̂̓̓̉̍͋̋̓̿̏̇͗̇̄̊͑̿̋̌̄̎́̚ä̶̶̷̵̵̸̸̸̴̷̴̶̷̸̶̴̸̧̨̛̛̠͈̥̝̤̙͚̦̹͚̫̱̰̯̘̖̼̼̠̗̥̺͉̥̤͇̹̦͈͉͉̠̙̹̳͇̪͔̗͖̥̼̟̭̖̯̮̻͙̳̤̂̔̈͐̎͊̒͑̃̉́͋͊͌̃̈́͋̋̉͂̏̈̈́̅̀̐͛̃͋̀̈͗̓͗́̀̑̋͐̿̋̈́́́̓̊̅̂́̉̿͘͘̕͘͜͜͝͝͝͝ͅr̷̵̵̴̷̶̷̷̵̸̷̢̛̞̝̟̖̲̞̝͕̠̝͍̹̰̱̦̣̮̖̪̟͖̰͔̹̟͙̤͓͎̙̬̅͋̊̌̈̿͆͆̆̈́̈́̌̐͋́̌̾̊̈́̋̇͐̓̿̓̈́͋̍̀̍́̃̈́̔̂͘̚̕̕͘̕̕͝͝͠ͅl̷̷̴̵̴̶̵̵̴̵̴̴̵̸̷̷̢̨̡̨̛̬͓̻̻̬̫͔̱͍̯̭͙̗̭̙̠̭͓̳̗̱̟͓͓̤͇͚͍͎̮̤̼̞̮̖͉͚̖̮͎̯̙̟͕̩̙͍͔̻̬̺̜̺̘͔͔͙̲̙͙̬͓̤̺̥̋̑̀̈̍̿̿͆̔̓͆̾̀́̽̔́̔̌́̃̒̋͗̍̅͌̇̊̃̐̍͐̀̈̈́̈́̌͒̈́͛̃̓̾͛́̀̔͐͑̍̈͒̾̎̊̂͒̚̕̚͘͜͝͠͠a̵̴̶̶̶̶̴̸̷̧̧̢̛̝͇̻͙͈̮̠̯̦̺̬͍̖̞͇͎͍̰̪̜̻͈̿̅̀̌̈́̏͛̐̓̍͒͌̊̓̒̀̐̋̍͗͋̀̕͘͜͝͝t̴̶̵̵̶̶̶͔͖͉͍̙͕͕̭̦̻̤̫͕͔̪͎̖̫̠̳̗͓̹͇̼͈͛̊̈́͌͛̓͌̃̏̔̈́͆̍͐̎̈́̐͝͠ͅḩ̴̴̸̶̸̶̵̷̶̴̵̴̵̴̢͓̯͇̳̫̣̠̲̝͚̳̭͙̬͙̰̼͉̗̘̜̲̘͉̩̙̟͎̗͎̞̳̹̝̞͇̫̳̹̪̥͕̺͖̩̻̪͔͇͉̼̝͕̺̘͇̠̽̈́͐̀̽̀̓̃̀̌̋͑́́͋͌̑̈̉͊̂̿̐͋̀̃̆̓̎̀͒́̓̑̈͛̂̿̔̑̇̋͘͜͠͝ͅơ̴̸̷̵̶̶̶̶̸̸̴̷̵̴̵̧̨̡̡̢̢̡̨̨̧̨̛̛̳̦̮͇̜̝̱̼̥̙͖̟̼̹̹̲̜̙̖͓̥̯͙̝̺̖͎̜̠̤̦͖̦̞̬͈̺̘͔̦̻͎̘͓͙͔̱̳̤͓̟̟̬̦͙̻̅̃́͊̀͋͗̄́͗̀̅̏̽̓̂̓͗̏̔̈͋̄̃̃̒͛̊̊̓͊̓̌̊̿̎̿̅̆̽̈̇̅̕̕̕͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅţ̶̷̵̷̵̸̵̴̸̶̶̴̨̢̡̧̡̛̤͉͇̰͍̼̭̜̘̬͔̝̗̜͕̪͎̼̘͈͉̫̱̗̻̼͍̪͉̠̖͇͎͍̳̮̟̥̲̣̋̓̈͛̊̓̈́͂̂͋̅̃́͂̎̃͐̏̂͌̐̏̾̔͛̾͋̂͗̎̉̿̽̎͂̓͌͛͒̿̊̎̋̾̿͊́̕̕̚̕͘͜͝͠͠͝ę̴̴̴̶̶̵̶̵̶̷̶̨̛̛̟͈̦̞̞̝̲̮̹̦̤̝̞̩͍̠͇̦̰̩̘̪͕̪̫͈̮̜̬̱͍̣͕̮̩̳̇̔́̈́̅̇͂͋͊̌͆̿̃̉͆̉̾̊̉͑̄͐̽̾̉͐̌̀̐͘̚̚̕͜͠͠͝ṕ̴̸̷̴̶̷̷̶̢̝̙͈̰͇̪̪̫̬̼̭̪̞̳̘͔͉̞̮̬̞̫̲̻͓̗̩̱̟̝͈͓͐̇̔̄̎̏̄̌̾̇̃́̎̀̂̑̇̊̎͑̋̍̊͗̿͊͌̈́̓̐̓͂͌̕͜͠͠͝..."

Emilly winced. That burst of sound had--hurt.

The dark-haired woman looked grim. "You know better than to speak the name of any elder god."

Emilly turned back to the Duke, all color drained from her face.

"Miss V̵̞̰͋͒̚͝ạ̴̘̲̺͒ͅl̶̫͎̮̩̠͛̄̔o̴̡̧̙͚̘̻̐̈́͗̆͛r̵̢͖̠̤̀͘i̸̢̯̥͒͒̾͠s̸̛͚̀̈́̍͒͒͝," Hiro began patiently. "We just met, but..."

"Hiro, you can't be serious!" Emilly said, her tone urgent. "We weren't looking for him! We were looking for--"

"There are a lot of things about us, you might not understand," Hiro finished, interrupting her.

Emilly looked at the others on the balcony. "...Something...else," she finally finished, weakly.

The dark-haired woman tilted her head. "I'm sorry, I'm being too nosy again, aren't I?"

"No, no," Hiro reassured her. "Your mother has been a great help..."

Emilly's head hurt. She couldn't parse this right now, there was too much dissonance. "All right all right all right," she said, shaking her head. "Clowns first, everything else--later."

"Duchess..." Hiro began. Emilly shook her head, waving her hands as if sweeping the thoughts away.

"No. First things first. Make sure they're all gone."

(Continued in part V.)

so, where is the Duke, anyway? (part CXLIX)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from CXLVIII.)



Hiro turned away from the station, taking them to the freighter named "The One That Says 'Bad [M*therf*cker]' On It", which had just returned that day with a highly classified payload. TOTS had a top of the line infirmary on it, which was fortunate, seeing as the station med bay was definitely not safe.

Hiro laid Justine on an infirmary bed, lowering the isolation lid as Rusty arrived.

"Bard," he said, glancing over his shoulder, then back to the control panel on the bed. "She's stabilizing."

Rusty looked on with concern. "What do we know so far?"

"She was in the black but shielded. Running out of oxygen. She should be okau, I think I got her in time."

Satisfied with the readouts on the bed, he turned to Rusty. "We need to get the thing off the station." Stepping to the door, he turned down the main corridor towards the shuttle pod bay. "Come with me."

"Here's the plan. We take the shuttle down to the station, go in with drones and take the thing out. Buckle up." Bringing the systems on the shuttle online, Hiro opened a channel to the station.

"STAN: Send all drones to level three."

"Acknowledged."

Hiro docked the shuttle at his private bay on Level 3 and the two of them rushed to the containment module. The alien inside the tank was awake, staring at them with one baleful yellow eye. The two of them could feel the influence of the creature as it tried to convince them to let it out, that they were being attacked again.



Knowing that it was all illusion, they fought against it, maneuvering the containment cell with the aid of the droids back aboard a truck.



"Make sure it's fastened down tight, we’re heading for the Gate."



The Gate was...occupied. Tentacles emerged from it, threatening the space around it.



Hiro piloted the space truck as close as he could get without becoming entangled. "Rusty, now! Push it off!"



The Bard scrambled to unhook the containment cell, pushing it off the back of the truck and towards the tentacles and the Gate. The tentacles wrapped around the pod, pulling it back through and the Gate began flickering and sparking. "Ohhhhh [f*ck]," said Hiro, turning the truck away from the Gate and putting the throttle down.

"STAN: We're heading back to TOTS. The Gate is going unstable. Shields up over the station!"

"Acknowledged."

(Continued in part CL.)