Tree Huggers - RPLOG

2016-10-10T07:10:59Z

Acetyl:

=Participants=
* [[Aaron]]
* [[Acetyl]]
* [[Arris]]
* [[Astara]]
* [[Briana-m]]
* [[Cerl]]
* [[Fenris]]
* [[Firecracker]]
* [[Joannah]]
* [[Phosphorus]]
* [[Raika]]
* [[Redd]]
* [[Willy]]
* [[Zophah]]
=Date=
10/10/2016
=Log=
<div></div> Waiting patiently by the newsstand, a prim and proper feline woman dressed in smart business attire stands with a pen and clipboard. Judging by the twitching of her tailtip, there's a certain level of agitation about her, as if she were not entirely pleased to be saddled with her current duty. "This had better go well." she mutters to no one in particular, none-too-patiently awaiting the arrival of the prospects for the mission. Firecracker enters the room, flying at about average head level. Spotting the official-looking cat-girl by the newsstand, she flies over to meet her. "Hiya!" she chirps, "I think this is the place where the party's starting, I guess I'm the first one here! Well, second really, cause you're here first. Now we can play the waiting game together!" She hovers in place, waiting for more people to arrive. Arris walks into the newstand hurriedly, an orange envelope under hir arm. Spotting the familliar feline Zephyr executive, sie walks over to her and stands across from Firecracker. "Hello, miss. This... this is the mission for the Hydroponics Lab, right?" Sie holds the envelope a little uneasily, not trying to jostle anything inside it. Acetyl prowls into the Zephyr lobby. A well-filled backpack rests on the agent's back, and he is leaning casually on a polearm as he goes, using it like a walking stick. A quadrupedal inorganic mutant follows at the Storm Dragon's heels. Moving purposefully, the shortish mutant pads across the floor, claws clicking softly, until he reaches the feline businesswoman. He stops at a respectful distance from her, standing more or less at attention (or what would qualify as such for a Zephyr employee, at least). The inorganic mutant stops, too, and sits at Acetyl's side like a dog at heel. The two stand there, waiting to be addressed before speaking. "I heard what happened last time, guess we'll be assessing damage as well as attempting to recover whatever's left over?" Redd grins slyly, looking over the group, couple familiars, mostly new faces. The coyote turns back to the woman. "Redd, reporting for duty, sorry I missed last time. Heard it went down in flames, if you'd pardon the pun." Astara slithers her way through the lobby into the newsstand, the lamia woman for once wearing a top to constrain her massive breasts: she has a Promethean-made combat armor on, the spidersilk straining to contain her endowments. In addition, she has a messenger bag over her shoulder, carrying who-knows-what in its depths... whatever it is, it's quite a lot of something. Her tail is unarmored, however, leaving her perfectly white scales bare to the world. She approaches the Zephyr employee where others have already begun gathering, and gives her a light smile. "Astara here; hopefully this mission will go right this time." A dark furred shadow vixen with a large rifle slung over her shoulder pads quietly into the room. Taking up a position in the corner, she states "Cerl, infiltration and retrieval specialist, reporting as ordered." Raika has been lingering in the Zephyr HQ area for the last couple hours or so, having taken a chance to actually rest from all her usual work. Time's passed, though, so she gets up and heads on over to the news stand for this mission she's heard about. She's fairly well armed -- halberd, couple of pistols, plenty of armor and other gadgets -- though her present plump and cuddly tigress exterior might take away slightly from the intimidation factor. Noticing she's far from the first one here, she looks around at the others for a moment before saluting the businesswoman. "Raika, combat and technical specialist, reporting for duty." Out from the Lobby a Fennec walks in, looking a tiny bit unsure of himself. Wobbiling a little, he looks down at his croch and inspects his pouch, before letting off a sigh of relief. Smiling and getting a bit better into step, the big eared fox walks over to the others. "Hi, I heard there was a help request for an expedition and was looking for something with computer skills?" he asked as he wagged his two tails a little and smiled. As he awaited an answer he spotted his groupmate reporting in, and waved to her a little. Briana-m enters the newstand at a decent pace already in her combat gear. Noticing the crowd she stops. "I received news of a mission investigating a hydroponics lab. I guess there is a bit of competition for placement, so I am good at getting into places I shouldn't be, know a bit about plants from my survival training and know quite a bit about ruins and places like them. I'm also not a pushover in combat either." Fenris seems to have found a new outfit. Well, the upper half of an outfit at least. He has found himself a white cowboy hat and a plaid shirt with the word TUBBS embroidered on the breast. Everything is tucked into a sturdy looking gun belt with a plethora of pouches attached and the tubby tanuki has a sword and spear crossed over his back.

Fenris seems to have acquired a box of donuts as well and snacks on them happily as he watches agents assemble. Aware that the prim feline is watching, he waves a glazed pastry at her. Hard to say if it is an offer or just a greeting. Walking into the newsstand, Joannah looks around the room at the people already gathered there. She is in her usual feline form, well, mostly feline, just with a few differences. Her gear consists mainly of a rather minimalist piece of armor, barely covering her more private bits and a rather large gun strapped to her back next to a backpack made of ducttape. She gives a small wave to the gathered people and walks over to the feline, her wings tightly folded against her back and her lower pair of arms tucked inbetween her two breast rows to keep them out of the way. "I got a call that there is a job that requires doing, and I thought it to be a good idea to volunteer myself." she says, looking confidently around the room, although slightly uncertain due to the size of the gathered crowd. Zophah enters in near the back, wearing her tell-tale lab coat and bikini. Her bag is loaded down with more supplies than last time, and she stands with a air of determination. "Zophah here. I hope that we make it a lot better this time." She adjusts the compound bow at her sholder a bit before standing at the ready. The last mission wasn't exactly a stellar success, but Phosphorus is always around to try to make the next mission into one. She slips into the crowded newsroom, lingering by the exit while she waits for everything to get itself sorted. No reason to expend energy pushing through the crowd, nope nope. Drawing in a deep breath, the feline woman regards the gathering with a sense of quiet contempt. Not hostility, per se; there is simply a sense that she would much rather be doing anything else. "All right." she addresses the crowd, in a voice disproportionately loud enough to be intended to gather attention. "Let's get this over with. It was made clear to me that if more than seven agents arrived as candidates for this mission, I should select the seven I thought should make the best team. So, let's see here..." She appears to be utterly ignoring any questions directed at her. Tapping notes into her PDA, she peers at various agents and starts pointing at people. "You and you." she states, pointing at Astara and Fenris. "You two have good track records. Come here." Glancing at Phosphorus, she narrows her eyes a little bit, a hint of recognition in her demeanor. "You too. Even if the last mission was a colossal failure, your knowledge of the facility might be useful." Her discerning gaze falls upon the others as she continues to work to make her decision. Arris looks around the crowd, seeing the many others who sie has to compete with. "Uh, I think I should go on the mission too. I've seen the inside of the facility as well, and I'm a good shot with my rifle here. And, one more thing..." Sie passes the envelope to the feline woman. "It's for last time. Took me awhile to find all this catnip." A peek inside reveals two palm-sized ziplock bags of the stuff. "Just... I'm sorry the last mission went the way it did, okay? The Storm Dragon's eyes flick around the circle of faces, rapidly taking them in. There were clearly too many of them. Not all would be sent. That was obvious at a glance. Acetyl could only hope that he was chosen. Certainly, he had the credentials and field experience to justify reporting for the assignment, but these others likely did, as well, or they wouldn't be here. (Or so Acetyl hoped. Then again, from the rumors he'd heard, that might be why the last attempt at this mission failed... ) Still, all he could do was present himself and hope that luck was with him that day. The Storm Dragon was geared up for combat, but he also appeared to be carrying several pieces of technical equipment. Some of the others spoke up right away, but Acetyl simply returned his attention to the feline businesswoman. He figured it was better to wait to be addressed rather than try to get a word in among the others speaking up right as they came in. Without really thinking about it, Acetyl took hold of the pendant around his neck and rubbed at it idly like a worrystone as he stood, waiting.

When the businesswoman's gaze falls upon him, Acetyl replies promptly, his oddly rhythmic voice cool and even in tone. "Ma'am, my name is Acetyl. I've been an agent of Zephyr for a few years now. I am involved in nanomagic research and design. I am also active in xenobiology and xenopsychology, particularly the study of plant-like mutants. I also have extensive combat experience," he notes, gesturing vaguely at his well-equipped form. In addition to the polearm he leans on, a knife and a homing boomerang are holstered on his belt, and he has not one but two types of armor on, though both are light, flexible types. Still, it's clear the Storm Dragon did his best to equip himself for the mission. "I won't waste your time with a full listing of my credentials and field experience; suffice to say that they are both equal to this mission." Acetyl pauses for a moment, as if unsure he should continue, then adds, slowly, "Finally, as the... caretaker... of Xanadu Gardens, I have specific personal interest in the outcome of this mission." A trace of hesitation cracks through the Storm Dragon's otherwise neutral professional demeanor, but for the most part he keeps his cool. Beside him, the odd inorganic mutant simply waits quietly. Firecracker lands on the ground, standing on her hindlegs and crossing her forelegs in front of her while showing off a cocky grin, demeanor completely different than usual. "Heh, you said we better be ready to fight in a hydroponics lab, right? Well I'm betting you'll need someone that can deal with plants, and I'm betting this'll be helpful at least." She raises a forehoof in front of her, giving off a pink flame that changes colors, getting larger and smaller before she waves her hoof, extinguishing it. "Bribery isn't going to get you a spot, you know." The coyote smirks. "I've got plenty of experience with locks and doors, and a fair bit of biology and medical knowledge. I'm sure Zephyr's more than familiar with my record on missions. No failures, deaths or severe injuries." Redd pulls his hat off, "If you pick someone else, I'll be fine, and ready if there's a need for backup. Fast enough to get most anywhere in the region in ten to twenty minutes." Astara nods in response to the feline woman, smiling wider now. "I'm glad to be of service, Miss." She looks around and inspects who else is coming along... and sees basically all familiar faces, nodding to Fenris, Phosphorus, and Redd. Cerl looks around at all the other applicants, but few looked capable of stealth when sneaking was required. Several even reeked of their lust. Quickly checking that her own scent masking device was properly activated, she states, "I specialize in getting in and getting out unseen. I, too, am skilled with locks of all kinda, and posess considerable xenobiology knowledge. If that will be useful to you, I am here." Raika simply watches and listens at this point. She's already said all the information that the businesswoman really needs about her; any specifics about those competencies she mentioned -- combat and technical -- can probably be ascertained just by looking at the kind of gear she's packing. It's up to the woman to make the decisions about the team, and if she ends up not being chosen, oh well, she can find other work to do. Willy grins a little as and looks about the group and then back to the woman. "I truly think I would be helpful for the task. I am very knowledgable when it comes to technology, and computers, and I have been working as a scientist at the Clairmont College studying Nanites." he says with a he gives a smile grin and a swish of his tails as he continues. "I have also been the lead researcher on several projects, including one to improve the sewer system." the Fennec then strides a little with a hand out. "Added to it, I am a trusted person in combat, and I have completed a mission before I believe having to do with this situation a while ago. So yes, I think you should pick me." Briana-m goes through checking her gear again, making sure everything is in working order. "In addition to what I said before, I have a good handle on dealing people, especially deceiving them, and am quite familiar with the standard operating procedures and rules that must be followed." Fenris pops his last donut in his mouth and nods at the cat's recognition, just smiling a little as he chews. The tubby tanuki raises a sugar coated finger to the brim of his hat in a lazy salute and folds his arms waiting for the rest of the team to be chosen. Joannah gets a small grin on her face. "Right, so a resume then? Okay, I have a history of going into the toughest places alone, but I can function well in a team. Versatile and quick on my feet, quick thinking and adaptable." she says with confidence, her large feline tail swishing happily behind her. "I may not be from Zephyr but I can go toe to toe with almost anything from the Wax Museum." She shrugs her shoulders a bit, adjusting the large M4 Carbine that is strapped to her back, revealing the large sword that it was lying on top of. "I have trained quite a few people myself, among who is Yaprap, who has been on a previous mission and I'm a very good crafter, I made almost all of my own requipment and it's to a very high standard. I don't know if that is good enough for this mission, but I think I could be a great asset, not just for my reconnaissance abilities." Joannah nods back to that large M4 which also has a very heavily modified laser scope attached to it. With the intent to prove herself, Zophah pulls out one of her smaller notebooks and holds it up for the Zephyr woman to see. "I have gathered information on the lab since the last mission, first on which paths through the wilderness will take the least amount of time. I also included some information I've been able to gather from others on the possible layout of the building, based on pre-P-Day buildings of similar use and architecture. Near the end of the notebook is also research on what the entity might consist of and possible powers or traits it might have. Even if I don't go on the mission I suggest you take a look." Phosphorus gives a slight, tact nod over to Aaron as her name is called, leaning by the exit of the newsroom and watching the others duke it out for a slot. She shoots a nod towards Fenris, too. They did well enough last time. The woman furrows her brow, looking from agent to agent. "You." A clawed finger points at Acetyl. "You're in." she tells him, before eyeing Firecracker with the same expression one might use when wishing death upon a mosquito. Returning to the task at hand, she repeats the same gesture she used with Acetyl at...Willy. "You're in." she tells him in a flat tone, before considering her remaining options. "You. And you." Finally, Cerl and Raika have been selected. As if reciting a rehearsed speech, she states, "I'd like to thank all of you for expressing interest in this mission, and your presence here today will be documented." A quick picture is taken - let's hear it for comm unit features, even if this one isn't widely available - and she dismisses the rest of the agents. "Now then, let's get on with it." A quick aside is cast to Arris: "Sorry, honey. I'm trying to cut down." Firecracker shrugs and says, "Well alright then, good luck and don't screw it up guys and gals! Believe in me who believes in you!" She grins and walks out of the room on her hindlegs, forelegs folded behind her head as she goes. Arris nods, giving the exec a smile. "Ah, that's alright. I understand, no hard feelings. Maybe I can catch your name next mission? Yeah, good luck in the lab." Sie turns to leave the newsstand, nudging Zophah on hir way out to follow hir. "C'mon, Zophah. Let's go get some drinks over at the Milk Saloon. We'll find out what happens at the lab sooner or later." "My offer of backup stands, I'll find ya'll if I hear about trouble." Redd nods to those selected. "Phos, Fenris, I know you two are competent, take care of the others, and if you need help, don't be afraid to ask." The coyote sneaks the panda a quick hug. "I expect to hear some good stories later." One by one, the others make their cases to be chosen. Acetyl does his best to wait calmly. He'd either get included in the mission on his own merits, or not. Impatience could do nothing but hurt his chances by making him look unprofessional, foolish, arrogant... whatever the case, it was self-destructive. So although part of him wants to chew at his lower lip, or lick his lower teeth in anxiety, he holds control of himself. To stop himself from fiddling with his pendant again, he forces himself to keep his free hand at his side. The inorganic mutant nuzzles fondly at Acetyl's hand with its bony muzzle, drawing a small inadvertent smile from the waiting Zephyr agent. He wipes his expression back to cool neutrality quickly, but not before giving the quadrupedal mutant a quick rub atop its skull-like head. Settling himself mentally, Acetyl listens, and waits.

In spite of his attempt to discipline himself by preparing emotionally for failure, the Storm Dragon can't help but let out a small breath of relief when that clawed finger jabs in his direction. Whew! It was bad enough he'd missed the last call for this mission. If he'd failed to qualify this time, he would have been very angry with himself. As it was, he nodded to the feline and moved to join the others who had been chosen, patting his hip softly to call his mutant companion after him. The inorganic creature seems to have a fairly bestial mentality, but also appears to be fairly mild and well behaved. Again it sits beside Acetyl calmly, looking up and around at all the agents with a vacuous expression of vague curiosity. Astara poses for the photograph with her arms crossed under across her chest, smiling genuinely, but in a way that comes out a little intimadating considering her overall demonic visage. "So, team... I suppose we should start with names and introductions: I'm Astara. Happened to be on the prior mission to this, so I have some idea of what we're getting ourselves into... it isn't nice. Don't know what's changed in the intervening weeks since the least expedition, however." Cerl calmly checks her rifle, slapping the mag back in but not racking a round before reslinging it over her shoulder as those not selected depart. Glancing over at Astara, she quietly growls, "As I said earlier, I'm Cerl. I'm a specialist in getting in and getting out silently and unseen." Raika is actually a little surprised that she got selected given that she didn't try to sell herself like the others (perhaps her gear really did speak for itself, or the woman just wanted someone who would listen rather than talk; who knows), and she doesn't do the best job of hiding that surprise. It fades quickly, though, and she nods -- both to the businesswoman and to Firecracker on the whole 'don't screw this up' thing -- before focusing back on the businesswoman and listening for the mission briefing. Or she tries to, anyway. Seems this Astara fellow wants to do introductions. "Raika. I'm a child of the nanite age and have been spending most of my life playing peacekeeper, or something to that effect. I'll be the first to admit I'm probably most comfortable when it comes to combat, but I do hope I'm at least not a burden otherwise." Willy smiles and bows "I thank you for the oppertunity, and I will do my best to make sure this mission goes off without a hitch" he says as he rises back up, his tails rapidly wagging in happiness for getting the job. As he awaited first orders, the Fennec takes a quick look within his backpack and makes sure all his stuff is in order so that there aren't any suprises as the mission goes. As he pulls his head out of the pack, he hears Astara's request and turns with his hand behind his back. Smiling and trying to look more gentlemanly than cute he smiles and starts to say "I am William Swift, although most people here just call me Willy. As noted I am a bit of a science researcher, which has been my main work over the past few months, but I figured it would be good to go out and explore agian, and help everyone in the process." He smiles "I am also a capable shield if combat breaks out, though I may shift a little if that is the case. This form is fun when being around town, but I probably need something bulkier if stuff becomes heated." "It wasn't so bad," Fenris says amiably, "Just a bunch of screaming vines. Nothing so bad about that!" The tanuki starts a little as something occurs to him and he grins, tapping his nose and producing a pair of bright orange roll up ear plugs. "Brought these this time," he says, "I'm all set!" He grins and nods at the introductions. "My shirt says Tubbs," he says as an introduction of his own. Zophah sighs that she didn't get to go, but is determined to give the group its best shot at success. She moves forward to hand Astara her notebook on the biolab, saying "I know you can make use of this, or at least get it to whomever can use it. Good luck." She then joins Arris in hand as they make their way out the door. Phosphorus notes, "I don't feel we should actually be expecting combat, here. That might be going in with the wrong mindset. I'd recommend keeping your wits about you, rather than having your finger on that trigger." She drums her fingers idly on the outside of her armor, checking to make sure she has her basic kit with her. "We should probably get moving, if we plan to get out of there in any reasonable amount of time." The woman draws in a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she addresses the remaining agents. "Now that we've got that mess sorted out, I'll make this short and sweet." she states in an even, severe tone. "This is the second attempt at this mission. The first was an unmitigated catastrophe, as some of you already know. Your mission is to inspect the hydroponics lab east of Fairhaven near the hills, and determine what happened to it. Fortunately, the team before you at least got the door open before transforming the area into a raging inferno that cost countless lives." Tap-tap-tap on her PDA, and she continues. "Your task is to investigate what happened in the lab and report back. Bring whatever you can salvage, and for god's sake, determine what the hell made that horrible screaming sound for a solid day after the mission was set ablaze." Tap-tap. "The location has been sent to your comm units. Now, get moving; I don't know what that place is like after dark, and I don't want to." With that, she begins to walk out of the room, tailtip twitching behind her. Willy thats fine with me On the ride out, Acetyl feels a little awkward. He scratches at his scruffy, overgrown human-like hair, flicking his muzzle to toss a strand of it out of his face. Now that he's less anxious, having secured a place on the team, his speech flows a little more casually, though still with that strange rain-like rhythmic cadence. The others introduced themselves, so he felt an obligation to do the same. "Well, decided to keep my trap shut back there, but now we're en route, might as well take my turn. My name's Acetyl. I do a lot of things for the big Z, and I guess you already heard me say before why I'm here. I can do a lot of things not so well and a few things very well," he adds with a toothy grin. "Suffice to say I'm ready to try to help in as many ways as I can." He didn't say that he was also hoping to find the answers to some questions of his own regarding Xanadu Gardens and plant-based mutants, but that thought was also in the Storm Dragon's mind as he spoke.

As an afterthought, Acetyl patted the inorganic mutant beside him again and said, "Oh, yeah. This here's Iatro. He likes to follow me around. Thought of asking 'im to stay home, but - " At those words, the iatrogenic golem's head dips sadly, and Acetyl rubs at one of its antler-like horns to soothe it. "See? Just the idea makes 'im sad. He likes to go where I go. And I can't deny he's got his uses. But don't hesitate to give him orders if needed. He knows he's to mind y'all," the Storm Dragon added in a slightly firmer tone, eyes flicking to his companion. The mutant made a soft whistling noise, blown through its nose-hole. This seemed to be an acquiescence, because Acetyl looked back to the rest of the team, nodding a bit in satisfaction. "So what can those of you who were on this ride the first time tell us newbies?" Astara shivers as she moves, unable to shake the visceral memory of the blood-curdling screams the team encountered last time. She's roused out of her semi-trance by Acetyl speaking, turning her attention to him, nodding along. "I don't know just what we're going to be facing in there, but if the... whole having-your-extremities-incinerated didn't end up killing whatever floral monstrosity is inhabtiing the facility, we're probably going to have a rough time. Every last little bit of help we have, we're going to need." Drawing upon her illusionary abilities, Cerl fades almost to invisibility until she appears to be no more than a dark shadow moving along the road with the rest of the party. She kept a watchful eye everywhere, though the risk any group of ferals would try ambushing a party this large was remote. Raika stays quiet, since she's said what she needs to say, though the explanation of Iatro does get her visibly thinking about potential tactical things. She'll learn more by listening than talking, anyway. Willy smiles as they are journeying out to the site. It had been several months since his last mission outside of the main cities, and he was curious what sort of mess he had come in on. Hearing Acetyl's introduction be nods to her and listens about Iatro, nodding twoards the end. As he listens to the others discuss, he looks to the others in reaction to Astara's comments. "What happened in that last mission to cause for the fire by the way?" he asks. Fenris taps the brim of his hat in salute, then turns and jogs out of the Zephyr building, fluffy tail bobbing along behind him. For being such a large guy, he moves with surprising speed and grace, even humming a little as he listens to the others. Every now and then he happily murmurs lyrics. "Raaaaaaight iiiintooo the DANGER ZONE!" he sings quietly, watching the abandoned highway as they pass the city limits. "Dunno," he breaks from his singing to answer Willy, "I didn't see the fire til it was all over." Phosphorus eyes the party and what they're equipped with, then takes a small swig out of a flask. "You know... I'm going to go ahead and slip off to provide sniper cover. Don't mind me, and don't bother checking up after ransacking the place, I'll probably head off by then. Good luck inside." The panda slips off into an alley with surprising speed, off to do who knows what. Upon arrival at the site indicated on their comm units, the remaining agents come to witness a grim sight. When the woman described the mission as an 'unmitigated catastrophe', it's not hard to tell what she mean. What was once a verdant woodland has been utterly gutted, dead and burnt branches littering the ground. Whatever set this place on fire did an alarmingly thorough job; though there was action taken to create a firebreak, the path to the lab is now conspicously bare and barren. And yet...there already seems to be some sign of greenery pushing through from the sides of the path, and saplings have begun to grow where tall trees once stood. Life finds a way, it seems...though for it to do so in such short order, some scant few weeks after the area was razed? Well...whatever the reason, the door to the lab is still propped slightly open. Acetyl listens soberly, wincing at the mention of fire. "That's unfortunate. Any idea how hostile the thing was before it caught fire? Some plant mutants are... pretty alien in mentality. But they aren't necessarily malicious to start with, even if they attack you. They've just got their own ideas and don't think the same way we do. The Xanadu Birds in the Garden are a good example of that," the Storm Dragon adds in an almost cheerful tone, though the way his muzzle wrinkles in distaste expresses clearly his dislike of the named mutant 'race'. For its part, Iatro trots along, keeping pace with the group for the most part, but often sniffing at things or moving off to the side for a moment to check out this or that interesting bit of nothing. Acetyl keeps one eye on the trailing golem, but it doesn't wander too far from the group, always remaining within three or four feet.

As they arrive at the mission coordinates, Acetyl visibly flinches at the devastation. Although clearly a hardened sort from his demeanor, the agent looks genuinely upset for a moment, as if the sight of the burned woods hurts him. He quickly blanks his expression, pulling on that cool professional look from earlier, but anyone who'd been looking at him in that moment would see he was dismayed. "Warden's balls, this wasn't a fire, it was a conflagration. An inferno. At least it's starting to come... back..." Acetyl's voice trails off as he looks at that new-grown greenery, expression pulling into the puzzled frown of a scientist who can't account for what he's seeing. "That's odd..." He leans in, peering at the saplings. "This fire. It happened how long ago?" Astara mutters "Well, at least we don't have to worry about the foliage grabbing and restraining us now..." as she moves towards the door, stopping when she's in front of it. "The thing did grab him - Anderson, his name was - in its vines through this very door before he snapped and just started torching everything with his flamethrower. And we were also admittedly cutting our way through the foliage... which is part of this thing, and that caused it to howl in pain at every little chop." She looks at the door, knocking on it with a fist, checking how sturdy it still is. "It was only a few weeks ago, Acetyl." Arriving at the scene of devastation, Cerl just looks around impassively. Thankful she was nowhere near this area during the blaze, but focused on the job at hand, she glances at the rest of the group before sliding silent as a shadow towards the door. As she approaches the building she looks it over for windows or alternative points of entry, not trusting such a convenient thing as the main entrance being left slightly ajar. Raika gives the saplings a brief odd look because yeah that's some remarkably fast regrowth, but... well, it's the nanite age. Not a whole lot is weird to her any more. She'd been prepped for the fact that there was a fire, so even though it's a lot of devastation, she mostly just takes a moment to glance around and assess the damage... and Astara conveniently provides the explanation for how the fire happened. Speaking of Astara, Raika does try to keep pace with her, just in case. "goodness what a Mess" Willy goes, as he sees the charred forest in front of him. Keeping pace with the rest of the group, he looks about the charred remains, ever curious as to what caused it. The Fennec's ear perks as he hears Acetyl's question and then hears Astara's response "You mean...the place may be one giant plant creature?" he asks a little shocked from the comments. "Two weeks," Fenris answers Acetyl, "Burned hard and fast. Somebody with a flamethrower and not much sense, like Astara said." The tubby tanuki peers into the dim interior with an amiable smile. "Let's go!" he says, pushing the cracked door a little wider and trotting inside. The door appears to be sturdy and intact, having been intended to withstand a great deal more than a fire. In fact, the entire facility has been designed with a relatively high level of security in mind; the door must have taken quite a bit of effort to budge. As Fenris wanders inside, he finds himself within the same vestibule as before, with a pair of X-ray scanners and a readout marking the obvious path into the hallway beyond. Without electricity, the place is barely lit at all; if anything, the foliage that winds along the walls appears to be helping with the situation, with some bioluminescent plant life providing subtle illumination. "Impossible," the Storm Dragon flatly grunts, then corrects himself with a sardonic chuckle. "Well. Clearly not, since it's here. What I mean is that this species should have taken much longer than two weeks to grow to this size. Hell, it should be little more than a sprout right now," Acetyl continued, indicating one of the saplings with a flick of his free hand. "This is exactly what I was hoping to find, but it still blows me away. Nanites usually ignore living plants. I only know of one other place that exhibits this kind of anomalous growth," he continued, examining the regrowth with open fascination, though being careful not to touch any of it. "And even then, it doesn't behave like one collective entity. Incredible," the Zephyr xenobiologist sighs in amazement, shaking his head. Ignoring his companion's fixation on the plants, Iatro noses through the now-opened door, following Fenris and Astara. The golem emits a curious hiccup-like sound as it peers around. Astara shrugs. "It... might be more animal than plant, to be honest. Showed far too much sentience to be /just/ a plant. I suspect this might just be a particular abomination of some plant-like nanite mutation, but I don't think /either/ of our theories have much going for it as far as evidence. At least until we get to the bottom of this." And with that, she wanders in after Fenris, stopping to try and adjust to the dim lighting inside. "Anyone have a flashlight, or -some- source of light? Ideally not an open flame." Uneasy at the tales the survivors of the previous mission tell about the screaming plants, and also uneasy at what feels like walking into a trap, Cerl keeps her vanish nanomagic running at near total invisibility as she slips into the building behind Tubbs. Unslinging her rifle, she chambers a round as silently as she can, wincing a bit at the noise of the bolt sliding home. Willy nods as he follows the others in. "Whatever it is, it seems to want to help thoes who want to explore this place...whatever that may mean..." the Fennec says as he slowly walks in behind Acetyl and the others. The fox keeps his pace fairly slow, doing his best to keep his wits about him. The Biolumenece just seemed too...conveient for him. Raika follows in after Astara, squinting a bit in the relative darkness, trying to keep an eye on their surroundings rather than engaging in the ongoing conversation. She's a little wary, keeping her hands at least somewhat on the halberd she brought with her, but that's probably for the best. Fenris reaches into a pouch and pulls out a pair of glowsticks, cracking them and shaking them up to provide a blue glow and hooking them back on his gun belt. "Only one way to find out," he says happily, trotting forward into the dim facility and scanning for a light switch, or failing that, a fuse box. Or maybe crazed, living vines. That would be an okay alternative. SLAM! Once Fenris illuminates the area, the reaction is almost instantaneous: some of the vines that were covering the ceiling and walls draw together and drive into the floor in front of him with sledgehammer force! Mercifully, the tanuki manages to dodge out of the way just in time, but the floor actually appears to be slightly dented from the impact, the tile floor cracked where it was struck. There is no immediate follow-up strike, but several vines hover overhead, waiting patiently and hanging loose as if anticipating something. "The regrowth is weird no matter what. I mean, what could be causing it besides nanite activity? You may well be right that the aggressive, screaming thing might have been a human mutant, though. I've got to find out," he added, speaking more to himself than the others, with an oddly fierce firmness to his tone. Standing upright again, he followed the others inside, moving cautiously, wary of what might pop up. Though on catching sight of the bioluminescent plants, he exclaims over them in sotto voce, half-whispering out of caution. "Wonderful! I wish I felt safe taking a sample," he murmurs wistfully. Iatro sniffs at the plant life with its skeletal-looking nose-hole, then sneezes. Snorting as if displeased, it moves away, leaning against Acetyl's leg a bit. In the dimly lit area, Acetyl's eyes exhibit a low, colorless bioluminescence of their own, the glow weak and flickering as if powered by an inconsistent flow of electricity.

When the vine strikes, Acetyl steps backward in surprise, snapping the polearm into a fighting position instantly. But when no strike follows up on the first, he relaxes a little, though not completely, watching the writhing vines on the ceiling closely. "Shit. They don't seem to like light. Oi, vines! D'you talk? Or are you part of something that talks?" Acetyl knew he sounded ridiculous, but there wasn't much better way to find out if a mutant was verbal than to ask, and he wasn't in the mood to be fancy about it. Iatro leaned more heavily against Acetyl's legs, antlered head held low. Astara's glowing eyes are at least very distinctive in the dark, but don't much help her much to see without the help of other lighting. As such, it's plainly apparent when her eyes widen at the titanic vine that nearly clobbered Fenris, and she jumps back and bares her claws in a combatative stance. "While I want to reason with this thing, I think we're far beyond that at this point... we need to cut those vines down, before we get turned into paste!" Cerl snaps her rifle up into a firing position for a moment. When nothing else happens, she steps over to the tanuki and quietly asks him for one of his glowsticks. Stepping back to make sure she is out of reach of those vines, she slings the glowstick hard deeper into the facility and then snaps her rifle back up into a ready stance. And Raika's wariness pays off when the vines do indeed try to slam into this 'Tubbs' fellow. Shifting her halberd into a more ready position with one hand, she tinkers with something in the chestplate of her armor with the other, turning a few things here, hitting a couple switches there, though her fingers stay hovering over another switch, watching the tossed glowstick to see the vines' reactions. Willy stops and stumbles back a little as the vines fly out from the ceiling and slam the floor. Yipping a little in surprise, Willy digs into his bag, and pulls out a can. He looks at it for a minute before stuffing it back in, perishing the throught of use such, especially after seeing what happened outside. Looking back to the others, he looks to them to see what the plan ahead may be. "There we go!" Fenris says gleefully as he dances back, "There is one of the things I was looking for!" He waves up into the darkness. "Hello! I still have cookies and tea if you want some!" he says pleasantly, "We'll have to boil some water, though." He hands over one of his glowsticks when asked, then cries out in dismay as it is thrown away. "What was that for?" he asks, a little put out, then he shrugs, adjusts his hat and then marches forward as if nothing had happened. "What are we looking for, now?" he asks, taking his spear from his back and twirling it idly. Overhead, the vines hang, poised to strike once more. And then...nothing? As Fenris strides forward toward the glowstick, the vines slowly return to their formal position, drawing back up into a resting posture. Regarding why, well, that remains to be seen. As Fenris strides past the X-ray machine and into the hallway, he'll spot three doors: one is at the end of the hallway and offers no clue as to its purpose. One is nearby to the left, and the large window that composes much of the wall separating it from the hallway offers some insight into its purpose: it leads to a row of computers, all entirely bereft of any indication of power. Further forward, a door to the right with a similarly windowed wall suggests a nursery of sorts, with row after row of plant life that seems to be conspicuously healthy despite the absence of any obvious source of light or water. Acetyl shakes his head firmly. "If it were too late, they'd be hitting us again. So far it's only gone for the glowstick. I think it just didn't like the sudden light. I strongly suggest not answering violence with violence until we have no other choice," the Storm Dragon cautions. Despite his words, the draconic mutant's eyes are wide and wary, and his own claws have slid free of their sheaths. Though unlike a true mammal he isn't bristling, due to being covered in furry scales rather than true fur, he looks ready to burst into violence himself at the slightest provocation. "'No other choice' may well happen in about three seconds, but until then... "

The Storm Dragon's voice catches in his throat as he holds his breath in anxiety, watching Fenris stride toward the glowstick beneath the writhing vines. Their poised expectancy reminds him of the Xanadu Birds he'd mentioned earlier, and he tenses, waiting for the strike that would surely come if it were one of said mutants. But it isn't. And nothing happens. Acetyl heaves an audible sign of relief. Moving to stand under the place where the vines drew up, Acetyl squints upward, trying to spot them. "Well. That's a good sign. What's down there, Fenris?" He calls to the tanuki without looking, focused on staring up in the direction of the withdrawn vines for now. Iatro sneezes again. A shudder runs over its bony frame. It doesn't seem to like this place much. Astara is absolutely gobsmacked at Fenris' reaction, even after having been on many a mission with him. After she picks her jaw up off of the floor (figuratively, of course), she slithers on after him, laser pistol in hand now. "Does anyone happen to have electric nanomagic? Might be able to power those computers in there if we do - without turning on power to the whole joint, as well, since that might have... some bad reprocussions." She points over to the computer lab down the hallway in indication. "Otherwise, we might want to split up? Some people could go to that nursery over there and collect samples of anything interesting, and the others could go see what's going on with mystery door #3. Me, personally? I want to see what's going on behind that door." And with that, the lamia beelines for that door rather silently: without having any feet to make footsteps, her locomotion is mostly berefit of any sound. Cerl slings her rifle over her shoulder again to free her paws when it appears no further attacks are forthcoming. She looks through the wall into the computer room, looking for any cabinets, desks, or drawers that might need to be examined for the information her employers are seeking before cautiously trying to open that door. Raika gives a confused look in the general direction of the thrown glowstick when nothing touches it, but still hits the switch her finger is hovering over anyway before raising that arm toward the ceiling. She starts walking forward to follow Fenris, though doesn't stray too far from the rest of the group (or the largest group if they split, anyway) either. Her hand's still raised as she watches the ceiling, waiting for something... Willy watches the Tanuki almost lackadailsy walk back through the vines and sees that he's uneffected. "Hmm..." he goes, and slowly follows after. Reaching the next room, he hears the comments about powering the computers and splitting up. "I will have to look into Nanomagic myself sometime, but if someone can do the powering, I am probably at my best working in the computer room. I dunno about splitting up though...at least unless there is some sort of trust we have with the plant I do not know about..." Fenris shrugs and saunters up to the apparent nursery. He hooks his spear back in its holster and smiles around at the others. "Sounds like a plan," he says, though what plan he means is an utter mystery. He turns and knocks gently on the nursery door. "Tanuki coming in," he says, like a nurse at a hospital before trying the door to go inside. Whether or not the vine strike was an isolated incident, no additional attacks have yet occurred. Cerl will discover that the computers each have their own individual desk upon which their monitors are placed; each one appears to have been a workstation of some kind, although more information will be difficult to discern without actually entering the room due to the low-light conditions. In stark contrast, the nursery has become overgrown, with the plant life having long since surpassed the point where it should have been pruned. When Fenris knocks, he'll find that the door swings open to a very small degree; as it turns out, the door isn't locked. Considering the security this place had when it was operational, there likely wasn't much need for locks once you were inside. The Storm Dragon looks thoughtful for a moment. "I can generate a stable electric field, and a more powerful but brief electric surge..." But then he frowns, shaking his head. "The surge is more likely to overload the computers than do anything useful, and even if the field is strong enough to power the machines, how to direct it?" He shrugs a bit dejectedly. "For what it's worth, our, ah, host seems not to be bothered by our presence for the moment. I'm sure we'll find out the instant that changes," the Zephyr agent adds in a sardonic tone. Using his polearm like a walking stick once more, he and Iatro proceed into the next room. The nursery catches Acetyl's attention first, and he peers into it like a child looking through the front glass of a candy shop. "Now that's what I'm talking about." As Fenris tries to open the door, Acetyl moves to stand beside him, intending to join him in exploring the nursery.

Following Fenris in, Acetyl goggles openly at the plant life. "No light. No water. Yet they're thriving. They've eaten the whole damn room." His tone is almost that of a proud father discussing the accomplishments of a child. Quickly he moves to the nearest specimen, examining it closely but with great caution. He slings off his backpack and begins to dig through it, removing a pair of gloves, which he pulls on, and a sample-taking kit full of vials, tweezers, and similar tools. Although excited, the Storm Dragon forces himself to take his time and be both careful and thorough. He must collect these samples, as many as he can get. He needs some for his own research, and his superiors at Zephyr will want their own as well. But he can't afford to contaminate them, or carelessly come into any more contact with the plants than necessary. Acetyl is all too aware of being surrounded by a familiar-seeming yet unknown thing. Astara moves right up to the mystery door, looking it up and down as she stands there. Not seeing anything distinguishable on the unremarkable metal door, she remarks "Well, here goes nothing..." and sticks her hand out to grab hold of the door handle, seeing if it'll budge one way or another... with her primary hand still on the pistol. Just in case. Cerl pushes open the door to the computer room and starts looking through the workstations, seeking any notes or other official documents regarding the workings of this lab, it's environs, or details into what research projects were being undertaken. Raika ends up going with Astara now that the groups have split because in retrospect evenly sized groups is probably the safest, and, well. Buddy system, right? She does lower her arm, though it's not quite hanging casually at her side either. Following after Astara, she lets the lamia open the door, though she's still resting her halberd against her shoulder and has one hand free for something... Willy shrugs and sighs as they start splitting up anyway, and follows his groupmate into the computer room. Looking about, he tries to find if there is some sort of power switch or generator in the room, or possibly a memory stick or hard drive that may be easy to pick up in the off chance of having useful data for later. Fenris is not nearly so cautious as his companions and wanders happily around the room full of plants that could be any combination of poisonous, sentient, ambulatory and carnivorous. "What was it that the Z wanted?" he asks as he wanders the room, peering at the various plants, "All I remember was someone asking for catnip." The tubby tanuki meanders around the room, eyes out for anything of particular interest. Books, seeds, fruit, prepackaged snack foods. That sort of thing. Willy and Cerl will soon discover the same thing as Fenris and Acetyl: bodies. Corpses, to be exact. There are several corpses on the floor in the nursery, and only two in the computer center; one of the ones in the computer center is sitting at a far desk not visible from the hallway, and one of them is sprawled out on the floor, arms outstretched as if reaching for the door. The corpses in the nursery are laid out in assorted states of disarray, with the foliage having grown through some of the skeletons. And all of them truly are skeletal; even a casual observer can tell that they've been dead for some time. Acetyl will discover an assortment of different plant types present in the nursery, some likely medicinal in purpose, some merely interesting for an assortment of scientific purposes. Willy, on the other hand, will soon realize that these computers are equipped to operate with an unusual power source in case of emergency: does anyone have a mako battery handy? As for Astara and Raika, they'll find a small room bereft of anything but a heavy metal door set into the /floor/, of all things, and a computerized panel (with, of course, no power). The room is otherwise featureless, clearly set up as an access point. "Whatever we can get our hands on, to tell the truth. But mostly, information about what was being worked on here, and if at all possible, samples of the work itself. And what the work has become since being abandoned." Acetyl lifts a specimen vial with a snip of newly-collected plant in it and waggles the vial significantly before capping it and replacing it in its container. "They're getting the information right now," Acetyl says, meaning Cerl and Willy. "We're in specimen ground zero." Something in Acetyl's tone is almost smug, although it's probably a more general sense of satisfaction. For its part, Iatro joins Fenris in wandering the room, seeming a bit more cheerful now. Its weird tail wags idly as it follows the tanuki, sniffing at everything at its head level. Appropriately enough for a being that appears to be made out of bones and random medical paraphernalia, Iatro doesn't seem perturbed by the bodies, merely snuffling over them the same way it does the plants. For his part, Acetyl spends extra time examining the plants growing out of the bodies. "Well, this explains a lot. Gruesome, but effective." Again, that weirdly proud tone comes through in the draconic mutant's voice. "Lots of water and nutrients in a human body. Nanites must be providing the actual metabolic energy, in the absence of sunlight. Unless..." Murmuring ideas and speculations to himself, Acetyl works the room. "What was that about catnip?" Frowning to himself, Acetyl looks around for anything that might answer to that description, though not expecting to find it in this menagerie of exotics. Astara peers inside and lets out a sigh of relief that Raika and herself didn't have to fight off any angry vines, or who-knows-what. Untensing, she looks to Raika and nods, then goes into the room, looking down at the door inquisitively. She trepidly stands over it... not that it'll budge, likely, and with that revelation she moves to the computer display, wiping the dust off of it and squinting. "Hmm... I don't think we're going to be able to get past here without finding a power source. This door REALLY doesn't seem to be the type that we're going to be able to brute-force our way through." Cerl ignores the dead computers, she has little training with such devices and no way to power them anyway. Cerl looks the skeletons over to see if there is anything of interest on the floor or surfaces near them, then goes back to searching through workstation drawers and desktops for any documentation or other clues to the workings of the lab. Raika follows closely after Astara, glancing around the room in case it's trapped or something. Once over at the computer display, she too squints at it, looking around it to see if it's connected to (or once was connected to) some source they can track (and where that connection leads to if anywhere), if it has some sort of backup power (and what form that would be in), and so on. Anything to find out what sort of powering they'd need. Willy goes "ech" he says as he looks at the corpses. "I'm hoping that the reason they are there has to do with P-Day and not after..." he says, before inspecting the computers some more. "oh whats this?" he says, as he sees the output point for a Mako Battery and realizes what could work. "Well thats interesting..." he says, and digs into his backpack. Fishing out one of his Mako batteries, he cleans up the output point and locks it into place, before looking for the power point to turn it on. Fenris gently prods a skeleton or two with a furry foot. "Plant food," he says thoughtfully, "I guess there are worse ways to end up." He thinks again, "Unless the plant ate them alive. That sounds kind of horrible." The burly tanuki turns slowly in place, a little bored now that it is science time. He reaches into a pouch and produces a crinkling bag of off brand sandwich cookies and tears them open with his chubby paws. "Cookie?" he offers Acetyl's little golem thing. The computerized readout display in the room at the far end of the hallway is on a podium, nice and easy to read. Or at least it would be, if it was actually saying anything; it has no power, though it does look like it has connections for that purpose. As Astara has indicated, the door set into the floor looks very heavy and difficult to move without a great deal of force. Acetyl will find that there is a small (compared to the excess of other plants) source of catnip among the vegetation in the nursery. He'll also notice a vine snaking its way up his right leg - not constricting, but definitely moving. Cerl will discover that each skeleton has a nametag - the one on the floor was David, the one at the desk was Dana - and will have a much easier time doing so because of Willy's booting up of one of the computer systems! Windows 7 begins to boot up on the machine, which merrily hums to life now that it has a (temporary) power source. The battery's readout? 95%. Apparently, this thing doesn't leech /too/ much power. Iatro snuffles at the cookie with its skeletal nose-hole. Then the mandible opens, revealing a 'tongue' with the texture of a piece of gauze that unrolls, hanging limply like a dog's tongue. It licks at Fenris with its gauzy tongue before taking the cookie. Within moments, the cookie is crunched to bits, though it's hard to tell how much of it was actually swallowed and how much just fell all over the place due to the creature's lack of fleshy cheeks.

Meanwhile, a few meters away, Acetyl is combing the foliage for anything that looks like Nepeta cataria. "Son of a bitch," he exclaims in surprise. "There actually is one here." Then he feels something creeping up his leg, and glances down. Instantly he freezes. "Son of a bitch..." Unsure of what's going on but unwilling to provoke a hostile reaction by acting too hastily, Acetyl holds very still, but his muscles quiver with the effort of self-control that takes. Astara inspects the door control podium, looking for just about any sort of slot or non-digital display that might help them out. "Mmm. We might need to abandon this for now, Raika, and go see what the others in the computer lab are up to; maybe they can find some way to help us out here." Cerl finishes searching the rest of the workstations for any documentation that would interest her employers, and then seeing Willy engrossed in his now working computer heads back out to the hallway. Giving a brief glance into the nursery, she is about to turn away when she hears Acetyl's cursing. She steps quickly into the nursery to see the plant climbing his leg. Realizing that rushing to pull him away could trigger an attack, she moves close, ready to help if she can, but waiting to see what happens. Raika bites her lip when Astara suggests abandoning the display for a moment, but nods in agreement and turns to do just that. It's not like anything's going to happen to the room in the meantime, right? Willy cleans up the desk in front of the computer and does his best to get to work. Putting a paw on the mouse, he spins it on the screen and hits the login button to see if the computer has a password that he has to try to hack. Fenris watches the little machine thing pull a cookie monster with interest, then he wanders over to see what Acetyl has found. Finding the storm dragon frozen, he follows his frightened gaze down to the slowly climbing vine. "Hey now!" he says, squatting down and poking at the roaming vegetation with a blunt claw, "You made a new friend! Probably don't want to get too cuddly, though." The tubby tanuki takes a firm grip on the vine and pulls it gently away from Acetyl's leg. What could possibly go wrong? As the computer powers on, Willy will find that there's a strange new operating system he's never seen before - Windows 7 indeed. And yet, the interface is simply enough. The login name is still present, as if the system knew who would be signing in, and it doesn't take very much hacking to discover that Dana's password was "anaD". Several programs are readily accessible from the desktop, and the user interface is somewhat self-explanatory; thank goodness the makers never had the chance to ruin it with later releases. It would be a simple matter to explore the system and determine what it's capable of. Fenris will find that his attempt to extricate Acetyl from the vine results in the tip of the vine pulling away and giving his paw a sharp, firm swat in hopes of being released; if he does so, it will continue to snake upward along Acetyl's side, toward his arm. The room with the metal door set into the floor simply remains as it is; for the time being, nothing is occurring in that area. Acetyl watches the vine very closely, trembling with the effort of preventing himself from moving. His wings rattle together on his back as he pulls them in close, denying the instinctive impulse to leap into flight. Images of what certain other plant mutants do to those they manage to capture flash through the storm dragon's mind. "Careful... don't let it get both of us." He felt very annoyed with himself. His delight with the room's content had made him forget to be aware of more active, grabby dangers. Iatro noses at the trailing vine, whuffing air at it through its nose-hole and making a quiet whistling sound. "Get my specimen box and my backpack away from it, out of here. Quick," Acetyl does his best to hand off what he's holding to Fenris. "And toss me my stick!" The 'stick' in question, the polearm, was leaning against the wall near the backpack. Astara turns and walks with Raika backwards, happening to glance through the room to notice what horrible things are happening to Acetyl... she has a look of dismay on her face, but it does appear that Fenris and the dragon's companion have this down. Mostly. So she just keeps slithering right into the computer room, coming up behind Cerl and Willy. "Any progress in here?" she asks, also announcing her presence (and hopefully not startling them). "The room Raika and I looked at has a big bulkhead door embedded into the floor, with some sort of computer control on a pedestal, complete with a display... but there's no power there, so we can't do much." Cerl drops her invisibility and grabs Acetyl around his torso and tries to drag him backwards away from the vine that Tubbs is now playing with. "Watch it Tubbs, it will grab you next." Raising her voice, she calls out, "We could use some help in here people, got a vine trying to eat our biologist!" Raika spots the strange goings-on in the nursery as she heads back into the hall and splits off from Astara to go investigate. Cerl's call-out gets her moving a little faster, halberd held properly now as she rushes in to see what's going on, watching it for a second or so to see if it'll let go of the biologist before she starts menacing it with the bladed edge. Not actually cutting it, but seeing if there's a way to let it know it's going to get cut if it doesn't let go. Willy giggles as he sees how much stuff there is to access and begins to veraciously explore the various documents and programs on the computer, trying to gather clues about what the lab was testing and what might have gone wrong. His tail wags excidently as he quick works about and tries to reveal and digest the information. He looks up as Astara askes him "I've gotten one of the computers running and am trying to discern what I can..." he says, before he hears Cerl yell and gets up from the computer to go see if he can help. Fenris sucks on his fingers after being slapped by the vine. Seeing that Cerl has decided it is time for action, the tanuki scoops up Acetyl's things and lays a hand on the vine channeling a jolt of electricity through it. It seemed to keep the things from getting too grabby before, then he trots out after the others with the dragon's pack slung over his shoulder, content little smile still firmly in place. He looks at Raika menacing the plant. "What are you waiting around for?" he calls gleefully. As Willy stands up from his position at the terminal and Astara relates the situation, Fenris shocks the vine winding upwards along Acetyl's body...and the reaction is instantaneous. POW! A wall composed entirely of vines rises from the floor, forcefully shoving Cerl, Raika, and Fenris back against another of the incubators. This sends it toppling down over them, likely burying them in (apparently inanimate) plant matter for the short-term. Acetyl has been cut off by the vine wall for the short term, further goings-on no longer visible to the rest of the room! From behind the vinewall, you can all hear Acetyl speaking, first in a tone of bewilderment as if unaware of speaking aloud: "I'm stone sober, right? Yes. Yes, I am. So... that's happening." Then, a moment later, much more quietly: "Uh... hey, l'il guy. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Trapped on the other side of the vine-wall with the rest, Iatro claws at it gently, not aggressively but more like a dog stuck on the wrong side of a fence. Astara flinches at the tremendous crashing that goes on just as soon as she turns to see Willy go off. She dashes just about as fast as she can into the room to look on in horror at the calamity that's befallen the room. "You guys okay!?" she yells out as she dashes over towards the incubator, starting to try to free the trapped party. Cerl starts scrambling to dig out of the plant matter and shove the incubator up enough to crawl out from underneath. "Push you two, help me move this thing." Calling out, "Hey, could use some help here!" Raika drops her halberd as a result of the impact slamming her into the incubators, though this means she has both hands free when she panics and raises her hands to try and do something about the stuff about to fall on her and the others (even if it's more with the intent of shielding her face)... and her tinkering with her armor earlier means that she ends up projecting a forcefield of sorts that, with any luck, limits the actual amount of crushing that goes on, a sort of dome of hopefully not being squished. Still going to need to dig through some stuff to get out, but at least there's room and leverage to do so and they didn't go splat? Willy curses under his breath as he hears the crash and runs off to the other room. As he gallops over, he quickly activates his nanites to increase himself in size, strengths and legs as he changes from his Fennec form, to that of a Tricerataur. Reaching the other side, he comes over and tries to help clear the stuff off of them. "Are you guys ok?" he bellows quietly as he continues to dig them out. Fenris heaves the heap of plant matter off of himself and hauls himself to his feet. "Wasn't that exciting?" he asks, picking his way toward the door of the nursery with Acetyl's bag still on his shoulder, trying to stay on the lookout for more frisky vines, "You guys find anything?" Fenris lies beneath the incubator for a brief, stunned moment. "Wow!" he finally cheers, "That was exciting!" The burly tanuki shimmies himself around to get hus arms and legs in the best position he can, then HEAVES at the incubator on top of him! The incubator is heavy, but not so heavy that it can't be moved - along with the now-disrupted plants - with some concerted effort. For the moment, none of the vines seem to be moving...including the vines blocking everyone's access to Acetyl. What occurs behind can be heard, but not seen at all by the rest of the team. And then, quite without warning...the vines blocking access to the dragon part, moving to grant him free motion throughout the lab. The vine has uncurled itself from around him, and is now draped over his shoulder, clinging but not squeezing, as if along for the ride. Blinking furiously, Acetyl looks around, a little stunned by the sudden withdrawal of the vine wall. Noticing the collapsed incubator, though, he starts. "Shit! You all right?" Automatically he moves to start to help, then, feeling the vine still curled around him, pauses nervously, unsure of what will happen if he tries to move around. Iatro, for its part, noses and nudges at the fallen material, but isn't able to be of much help in freeing the others. Luckily, the group is able to free itself without too much effort. Astara helps everyone get to their feet, helping them dust themselves off as needed; she also hands the halberd back to Raika. "What the hell happened?" Cerl darts out from underneath the incubator as soon as Tubbs heaves it away, but pulls up short as soon as she spots the vine on Acetyl's shoulder. Knowing how some things are able to control the minds of others, especially when in contact, she grabs her rifle and levels it at him and growls, "Stay right where you are. Don't move." Raika mostly contributes to the incubator lifting by way of the field giving 'Tubbs' some leverage to work with starting out. She does try to help otherwise but her strength is nothing compared to his. Once out of the... whatever the heck one calls what just happened... she takes her halberd back from Astara, nodding a silent thanks. "...well. That was unexpected. Now what?" Her 'what' is somewhat cut short by noticing Cerl aiming the rifle, and she points her free hand in Acetyl's general direction, mostly in preparation for if it tries to smack them for threatening again. Willy bellows a giggle for a moment before seeing Cerl's reaction and saying in a low bellowing voice. "Hold on, it doesn't seem to be trying to hurt him, why not let it ride for now. It's not hurting him right now anyway...and I'd rather not have it try to bring the lab down on us..." Fenris hauls himself up and brushes himself off, scooping his still pristinely white hat from the wreckage of the incubator and plopping it back on his head. His reaction to the vine is the polar opposite of Cerl's. "Look at that!" he says happily, "You made a friend!" Glad that all of that is resolved, he looks around at the mess and shrugs. "Looks like you all have this covered," he says pleasantly, "I'll go see if anyone else needs my help." It must be nice to be so willfully oblivious. The tubby tanuki wanders out of the nursery and down the wall to the third door where Astara was exploring and pokes his head inside. "Hello?" he asks. Everything seems to be going all right at first, the incubator successfully hauled off to one side, but then there's the presence of a rifle and the status of 'all right' crumbles to nothingness. More vines erupt from the ceiling, lashing Cerl's wrists together. Another attempts to grasp the firearm out of his hands, but Raika manages to intercept it on his behalf. Unfortunately for her, this only prompts /another/ set of vines to attempt to bind her as well, and two more walls erupt from the floor with the idea in mind of separating Cerl and Raika from the rest of the team! The appendage at Acetyl's shoulder moves to interpose itself between him and the wall; it makes no aggressive motions, but appears to be refusing to grant him unimpeded access. If Acetyl went still when the vine first touched him, he is absolutely motionless now. There is no trembling, though. Instead, it is a tensely poised stillness. His eyes flick to Cerl's, not frightened, but very cold and serious. "What in fuck's name are you doing? Are you seeing the bastard offspring of a Raptorian and a Stygian Hound?" Although the words are flippant, the tone is crystal clear in communicating that Cerl had better have a very good reason for the threat. It doesn't occur to him what she might be thinking - all he sees is an ally suddenly threatening him. "If not, then you better explain to me, in words of one syllable, why you are pointing that at me. We're on the same side, but having a gun pointed at me tends to make me... angry." The slight pause manages to convey a huge depth of understatement in that word 'angry'. He starts to say something else, but at that point, the vines lash out. "Fuck me sideways with a broken surfboard," Acetyl barks in frustration. How did things go from OK to this so fast? "Vine, c'mon, you're scaring them," he pleads aloud, without really thinking. Iatro makes a creaky noise, apparently its version of a whine, rushing to lean against its companion's legs again, pulling its tail around its bony legs. Astara is aghast yet again at what happened, but she doesn't move to help them... that'd only make the vines restrain her, after all. She reholsters her laser pistol, and makes no big movements. "...Okay. So, we need to not be violent with this thing, at all. We're going to have to play by its rules if we're going to explore this place." She sighs, and calls out to Raika and Cerl. "Are you two alright?" Willy facepalms making himself make a soft thump. "Guys calm down, please." he says and he stands back a little. "This stress is only making the situation worse. Astara has a point, this is their place, we need to play by their rules." Cerl struggles for a moment against the bindings, and then just mutters a curse under her breath before relaxing. "No, not really, but I don't think you want to try doing anything about it right now, you would just get caught as well. Raika is bound by vines. Rude. Still, she doesn't bother struggling for the moment. "It's gonna do this every time someone brandishes a weapon or tries to stop it from punishing someone who's doing so, isn't it." The resigned exasperation is clear in her voice. "I'm fine, just... annoyed. What even is this thing that's controlling all these vines?" Fenris is oblivious to the conflict outside, assuming that everyone else has things under control. They are obviously a thoughtful, level headed bunch. What could possibly happen? Instead, the chubby coon dog examines the room and the heavy door inside. "Hello, door," he says amiably, "What is that you say? Being closed makes you sad? Let's see what we can do about that." He searches around for something that might help oben the doors, but failing that, he psyches himself up for a feat of strength. When Raika stops struggling, she is released from her bindings. Still, the vines hover nearby, as if in preparation. Cerl is also held fast as long as she struggles, and then - as if by magic - the walls and vines are gone. All except one, that is: the vine that was with Acetyl returns to his shoulder, still along for the ride. Fenris will find nothing obvious that will open the door, no handles or latches. The door itself is shut tight, and the computerized readout attached to the podium stubbornly refuses to power on by itself. "The vines are intelligent. Or... part of something intelligent, at least." Acetyl says quietly, his voice soft with something close to awe. "It looked at... er, it explored, that is, my sample kit. And my clippers. It's got some kind of awareness, at any rate," the xenobiologist continued, recovering a little of his more usual academic tone as he began to calm down. "It doesn't mean us any harm. At least not for right now. If we keep our heads, I think it'll stay that way," he added hopefully. That was an awfully optimistic perspective for him to take, he realized. Downright out of character for him. But he felt confident in the truth of his words as he spoke them anyway. If the vines wanted to hurt them, they wouldn't have wasted time with restraining and walls. Astara is at a loss of what to do... so he goes after Fenris, trying to help him out. Cerl looks around for where the vines took her rifle, and if they permit, slings it back over her shoulder. "I hope you're still you, and not just being controlled by that vine." She continues to watch Acetyl closely, keeping her distance and edging her way towards the door out of the nursery. Raika raises her hands in mock surrender. "Call it a misjudgement of insufficient intel." And with that, she lowers her hands again, going to stick with Cerl for the moment. This was pretty clearly not a combat mission, so she'd probably want to be elsewhere right now where she wouldn't cause vine problems, wouldn't she? Willy sighs for a moment "Well, with that calmed down for the moment...I was able to boot one of the computers up if you guys want to take a look..." he says, before he shrinks back down to his smaller form and walks back to the computer room. Fenris frowns at the obvious lack of doorknobs, knockers, and doorbells, but his ears perk up when he finds the slot that looks shaped for a mako battery. "Seriously, Z?" he asks no one in particular, "How long were you playing with your little magic bots before they blew up in everyone's face?" He fishes around in a pouch that seems too small to swallow his arm up to the elbow, but that is exactly what is does. After a moment, the tubby tanuki produces a mako battery and slots it into the power supply by the door. The storm dragon glances at Cerl in disbelief for a moment, then relaxes with a chuckle. "Is that what you were thinking? Makes sense. Sorry I growled at you. Tell you what, though - I'm pretty sure vines wouldn't know 'fuck me sideways with a broken surfboard'. That's a local specialty from back where I grew up. One of my few remaining pre-P-Day memories." For a moment, Acetyl's expression grows wistful and a little sad. Then he shakes it off, returning his attention to the present.

"To tell the truth, I'm not sure why it's doing this," he shrugs, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his shoulder-passenger vine. "But if it's affecting my brain, it's doing it very subtly. With that said, if I start acting like a plant-zombie, I give you permission to shoot me." Although Acetyl speaks in a jocular tone, the look he gives Cerl, then the others nearby, is sincere. He means it 100%. "Just make sure the samples and data make it out of here if that happens." After a moment, the serious expression fades, and he turns his head as if trying to look at the vine on his shoulder, though the shape of his face hardly permits it. But, you know, I don't think it will," the xenobiologist continues, that sense of wonder returning to his voice. "It's almost like... like Iatro. Only it seems... well. Smarter. No offense, buddy," he finishes, rubbing at the nanite golem's skull-like head. Apparently, no offense is taken, as Iatro accepts the attention with a happy 'panting' look, allowing its gauzy tongue to unroll again. Whatever is controlling the vines appears to be content enough with allowing everyone out of the nursery unmolested, though the one riding atop Acetyl's shoulder soon reaches its limit and departs to be replaced by a different one, a process that repeats itself as he moves throughout the lab. Fenris will find that hooking a mako battery up to the panel will indeed restore power to it; it seems that the computerized display in the room occupied only by him is a means to open the door. Willy will find that the computer is still powered on, though the mako battery attached to it now reads '75%'. Astara is enlightened at the appearance of a mako battery slot, and pours over the display with great interest. "Well, Fenris, you do the honors?" Cerl sticks her head in the computer lab. "You going to be ok on your own? Looks like they found something down the hall." She then heads down to Fenrir and Astara, rubbing her wrists as she goes. "He won't be alone." Raika splits off, heading into the computer lab. "Don't worry." And with that, she's taking a look at the display too. Willy hops back to the computer and begins working his way into the unknown. For the moment, her digs into the journals and tries to discern any sort of information on what the functions of the lap were, not to mention if there are any sort of directories of the floor. Honestly, Fenris is a little relieved to not have to try to haul those blast doors open with his bare hands. The tubby tanuki wipes his padded palms on his plush posterior and steps up to the display to open the way ahead, assuming that the process isn't too terribly complicated. For several long moments, the only sounds that can be heard are the operation of a computer in the computer lab, along with whatever noises are made by the people near the sealed door. Acetyl hesitates. Part of him wants to go check out the computer information. He isn't as skilled as Willy, but he's sure he's competent enough to use whatever machines have been powered up. Yet his curiosity about what the others are up to is intense. After a moment, he sighs and says to Iatro, "Oi, buddy. Go with them, eh? Be a good boy. Help out." Pointing down the hall to the third room, the room with the trapdoor, Acetyl sends Iatro in to be with that group. Then he enters the computer room to join Willy and Raika, figuring he can catch up with the others once he's had a look at whatever's on the computers.

Checking out the room, Acetyl looks to see if he can get a workstation of his own, otherwise reading over Willy's shoulder shamelessly. When the display is powered on, a fairly simple screen is displayed, in large enough font that even a child - okay, a fairly tall child - could easily press the right buttons. It's quite simple, really: the bottom half of the display is a keyboard like one might find on a cell phone. The top half is an empty field. Astara looks at the numberpad and scratches her chin. "Hmmm... might need to go back to the computer lab to see if we can dig up the code. Unless you have any bright ideas, Fenris. But first..." She trails off, and presses in the pin '1-2-3-4' on there, and enter, just to see what happens. Cerl fades back to near invisibility, standing back and letting Tubbs get on with whatever he's doing with the display, keeping distance from the door the tanuki is trying to open. "Hmm..." Willy goes as he bring up the three journal entries he found. "The way this sounds, this was a...biological scientific lab for Zephyr I guess." he says and he continues to the second entry. "Sounds like there was an incident that occured right after P-Day..." he mumbles a bit and continues to work and then reads the third. At this point his eyes raise "Uhh...guys, I think I have our answer...the plant was well...human...and may need our help." he says as he reads the third entry agian. Fenris stares at the screen for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Yep," he says with a definite nod, "Never figuring this out by trial and error." He perks up when he hears Willy's call and trots out of the room to go examine the deceased lab techs. "Does your new vine friend know any pass codes?" he asks amiably as he roots around. For the moment, the crowd remains gathered around the podium, attempting to work out the password. 1-2-3-4, when entered, does nothing. Press the Enter button, and it simply clears the field. Whatever the password is, it's not something that belongs on somebody's luggage. "So it is a human mutant." Something in Acetyl's tone sounds almost disappointed, as if he were hoping for genuinely nanite-uplifted sentient plants, or something. But the moment passes quickly as the storm dragon reaches up to the tendril currently riding on his shoulder. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll get it figured out." He grasps the vine gently, as if squeezing someone's hand to reassure them. Glancing to Fenris, Acetyl blinks. "Good question, actually. Oi, vines - do you know the passcode to the trapdoor? We might need to get down there to sort all this out." Astara gives a shrug, admitting defeat at not cracking a secure device by just pure guessing. "Well, I'm going to go over to the computer lab and see what's going on there. Don't get trapped by the vines as soon as I turn my back this time, okay?" And with that, she walks down the hallway (again) and comes up behind Willy. "Find anything like a pin number? There's a security terminal for that door that needs a pin. Digits only, about the only thing I can say that'd help." Cerl looks at the podium after the others step back, and tries entering 72779673. Raika stares at the article (since she is still with Willy, after all), reading over it with him. "...well, that'd explain a lot of the vines' behavior up to now." Willy points to the journal entry. "If I'm reading this right, I think code to get downstairs to where Sarah's main body is Demeter." he says. "Something still confuses me though, why are the people that were staying in the lab dead...surely they didn't die of old age in that short of time and there is no way they starved to death..." he tries to read through the journals some more and see if there is another entry. "Skeletons are not good helpers," Fenris says, trotting back into the room with the sealed door and staring down the pinpad. On Willy's advice, the tanuki reaches out and taps on the pin pad. 336387, and enter. The vine on Acetyl's shoulder offers no indication to knowing the passcode...or much of anything, really. There appear to be no additional journal entries on the computer; Willy has read the final one. No, all that's left on the desktop is things like progress reports, door controls, personal information, and other various and sundry items. Whatever killed the other scientists, it's not immediately obvious to a casual observer. 72779673 does not work, and neither does 336387... Well, it has been a long shot. Acetyl wasn't too worried about the vine's lack of communicability. He shook his head, though, at the lack of journal entries. "Damn it. They didn't keep very good worklogs. Maybe there's experiment notes somewhere else on the drive." Glancing at Fenris, Acetyl frowns. "Maybe when the person first became the vines they were... well, feral, since having calmed down some?" After a moment, he adds in a more growling tone, "Or maybe there's other mutants around. More hostile ones." Iatro, growing bored, begins to snuffle around, sniffing at the corpses and in corners. Cerl tries punching in a few more codes, but none seem to work. She steps back down the hall to the computer room and begins searching again for anything she might have missed the first time. Willy sighs "Well whatever it was...I hope they left this place already...and I'm being a little dumb, we didn't need the pass there" he says, and starts looking over the door controls so as to see if he can open a direct passage was to where he believes Sarah is, and check if there is a map to the place. As he's working it out he grimaces a little, and there is a minor sound of something filling with liquid, as he grumbles under his breath. Fenris tries his old standby, since none of his clever passcode ideas are working, and simply goes up to the sealed hatch and knocks politely. "Hello?" he says, "Open up!" Without power to the control panel in the room at the far end of the hallway, the code would have done nothing. Without the code, the control panel was useless. But both together? A pop, a hiss, and the sound of locks sliding away heralds the slow, loud creaking sound that comes with the opening of the metallic door that leads below. Clearly visible is a ladder that leads down into an entirely separate area. Fortunately, the passage is large enough to accommodate anyone who isn't significantly larger than the average human. Also fortunate is Fenris's ability to avoid being smacked by the door - tough or not, that would hurt! The storm dragon's ears twitch, hearing the faint sound of the door opening in the third room. "If I'm not mistaken, that door's come open. Can you get the hard drives out of these machines? We can make copies back at Zephyr. The information on them may be invaluable even if those are the only actual journal entries," Acetyl explained, thinking of experiment notes and sundry boring-yet-priceless bits of information. "I'll be right back," he said, then, unable to resist his curiosity, headed back down the hall to the other room, joining Iatro and the rest of the group. At the bottom of the ladder, the team will find something...truly different. Behind a bulletproof plexiglass wall is what can only be described as a tree-woman, a dryad of sorts, her 'mouth' perpetually open in a silent scream. Her arms are branches, penetrating the upper reaches of the ceiling, having pried apart cracks and worked their way upward; indeed, they're legion, pressing out in every direction away from the lab. It would seem that the door to the quarantine is still securely closed, though that does nothing to explain the presence of one final set of skeletal remains outside of the quarantine area. This skeleton is mostly dressed in a labcoat with bulging pockets, and its nametag reads "John". The tree woman also appears to have taken root, rather firmly; she's not going anywhere any time soon. Willy ws Astara is in awe of the woman before her, but she can't also help but feel a little saddened at the figure. "I... knew it, there had to be something with sentience down here. However... hey, uh... 'Sarah', can you hear us?" she inquires, walking towards the door and trying to find some way to get through - probably another inferal computer terminal, given their previous attempts. "I think that's your name, at least..." she mutters. Cerl glances around briefly, and seeing no immediate threat calls "clear" up the ladder and heads towards "John" to search the bulging labcoat pockets. Raika follows on down the ladder. Cerl's kinda getting to this 'John' fellow first, so she goes to take a look at the tree-woman with Astara. As Astara starts walking toward the door, Raika muses something she remembers reading -- or possibly hearing -- when she was up with Willy. "...passcode for where 'Sarah' is contained is 'Demeter'... but where does one input a passcode around here?" Willy reaching the bottom of the ladder, Willy sees Sarah within the room, and spies the locked door. Walking over, he looks for a pass book, and tries to type in the code from the computer. As hes doing so he stops and grimaces briefly but shakes it off, mutting something about stupid cycles under his breath before he finishes the code. Anyone looking at him would notice that his balls are looking sizably larger than they were looking not too long ago. Fenris knew he should have knocked sooner! The tanuki slides down the ladder expertly and wanders over to press his face against the glass. "Guess we found our screamer," he says, "Looks like she's in a bad way." He looks back at the others, mainly the Zephyr agents, since it is technically their party. "Now what?" Within the pockets are three very important items, Cerl will discover: one appears to be a bag of samples, which Acetyl should readily notice match the plant-woman for consistency. In the other pocket sits a simple radio, utterly bereft of power but still appearing surprisingly functional. In fact, one might wonder: how did this place have functioning computers? Hmmmm. Regardless, there they are and there it is (although by this point, the mako battery hooked up to the computer upstairs has likely been drained). Finally, a simple note, sloppily scrawled: "Treated key items with nanite sealant. Sarah's trapped here. Others are dead from poisonous spores - she doesn't know what she's doing. Mind's mostly gone. Can't leave this place. Till death do us part, Sarah. We'll be together soon. - John" The code unlocks the door to the quarantine - odd security policy for a sophisticated installation, but there must be a reason - and thus, Sarah in all of her arboreal, immobile glory. Naturally, being one of the last ones into the room, Acetyl is also one of the last down the ladder. Iatro, unable to descend such a structure, waits at the top, peering down the hole after the group, wagging curiously. When he catches sight of the tree-woman, his jaw actually, physically drops. Blinking, he collects himself for a moment or two before speaking. "You... are magnificent. My god, what a beautiful creature. But she looks so sad," he finished, a sympathetically pained look overcoming his own bestial face. Without hesitation he approaches Sarah, reaching out to touch the glass separating her containment zone from them gently. "We have to help her... but I'm not sure how yet. I almost wonder..." Acetyl glances down at the wooden box attached to his belt, apparently some kind of medkit, but dismisses it with a shake of his head. "We can't move her. She'd almost certainly die." He appears genuinely distressed. Astara nods solemnly with Acetyl. "Well... no, we probably can't move her. But we need to at least get some samples of her... and maybe check on her status. As much as I disdain to let Zephyr handle something like this, they might be the only ones who can do something for her." Cerl looks up as Ace reaches the bottom of the ladder. "Yo, Ace, check this out." She holds up the samples she found for him to take. "Hey, anyone got another battery? This thing here looks like it could take one, oh...and a key. According to this note, it's the key to that woman's containment area." Raika has nothing more to add here at this point, so she'll just start on her way back up the ladder. Wouldn't want Iatro to get lonely, and aside from that, it's just good to make sure nothing's coming that would cause problems this far into things. It's unlikely, but it never hurts to make sure, right? Willy looks over to Cerl "I've got several. Should we open it up though? If what Acetyl said is right, shes actually better off with the containment sealed." he then winces and grumbles a little as his balls grow agian. At last, the team has what they came for: information on what happened to the laboratory, along with a few goodies besides. Reporting back to Zephyr, they send some experts to secure the lab, and even take the time to report back to the agents who helped; Sarah has become pseudo-sentient, something more akin to animal intelligence than an actual mind. The computers are salvaged and brought into Zephyr's pool, never to be seen again, and all agents are given hearty commendations for work well done. If anyone cares to follow up, they'll discover that there's work being done to dismantle the facility and bring Sarah up to the surface and into the sun, and that the regrowing woodlands have been declared a safe zone, where destroying the environment has strict consequences.[[Category:RPLogs]]

On the Significance of Scars, Part One - RPLOG

2016-10-10T06:35:58Z

Acetyl:

=Participants=
* [[Acetyl]]
* [[Galve]]
=Date=
18/9/2016
=Log=
<div></div> The small, dilapidated building stood along the edge of the wall separating Xanadu Gardens from the rest of Fairhaven Park. To a casual glance, the building might still seem abandoned, but a discerning eye would note signs of attempted repair and reclamation. It might have been anything, back when it was new - maybe even one of those characterless McMansions that sprouted like mushrooms in parts of Californina before P-Day. But it's been crudely renovated and rebuilt along the model of an office building. It was probably easy to spot back when it was first built, but with the current, wild state of the gardens' overgrown foliage, the building was now effectively set back into the line of woods that bordered the Field of Dreams.

Inside, it was quite different. Obviously, a significant chunk of someone's personal resources, and most likely some official Zephyr resources as well, have been invested in making this place a functional subdivision headquarters. To judge by the state of the interior, most of the building is occupied by a small but very active research & development team, focusing on both crafting and nanomagic.

The uppermost floor, by contrast, is set up as a living space, albeit a rather cluttered and neglected one. There are concessions to comfort here, though nothing very expensive-looking and much appears to have been scavenged and repaired to the best of the scavenger's ability (which isn't always too good.) There is a sort of nest consisting of a couch on which various pillows and blankets have been piled, and a neatly made, very unused-looking bed.

This is where Acetyl brought Galve after they were able to escape from the Swamp. Too exhausted by the ordeal of escaping to do much more than flee for home, and too shell-shocked to face the crowds in Zephyr's lobby which he'd have to pass through to get to his official apartment, he'd come here, to the Xanadu R&D building. It was hardly ready for its proper purpose, much less to be hosting visitors, but Acetyl had felt like he had nowhere else to go. Totally burned out, he'd plunked Galve on the unused bed before crawling into his unkempt couch-nest. He was so exhausted he'd fallen asleep with his pipe clutched in one clawed hand, lighter in the other, both unused.

Acetyl woke up the same way, hands feeling a bit cramped and tired from gripping the two objects all night as he slept. The subtle, dull ache was very minor, and would have been mildly annoying normally, but it was totally swamped out by the pain in the rest of his body. His nanites were mostly done repairing the damage he'd taken fighting the feral Male Gator on the way out, but his cells weren't done bitching about the trauma they'd suffered yet. Emitting an irritable, throaty growl, Acetyl pushed himself upright in the mess of bedding sprawled over the leather couch and lit the bowl he'd loaded the night before. Normally, infected agents benefitted little from drugs, but one of the benefits of Xanadu Gardens was that the drugs here worked. 'Cet had his suspicions about why, but no proof yet. It was one reason the R&D building was here. Zephyr, and Acetyl, both wanted to know what the hell was up with this place. A pleasant mystery, it was. He had enough unpleasant mysteries in his life.

Of course, exhaling a gout of smoke through his slit nostrils, Acetyl knew he had no one to blame but himself for that. Perversely, being in control of his own descent into the darkness made him feel less bitter about it. At least he was no victim of outside forces. Merely his own victim. He'd chosen this.

And speaking of which... Acetyl's sensitive ear twitched. He heard motion from the bedroom. Why did he make a bedroom, anyway, when he'd always slept on the damn couch...? Still grouchy and groggy from waking up, Acetyl took another hit, trying to decide how to handle what was coming. You rolled this joint for yourself, dragon. Now light it up and smoke it, he told himself cynically. "Oi. You up?" He called quietly, in case Galve had merely turned over in his sleep. But instinct told him the other agent was awake. Something about how the smell coming from the open door to the bedroom had changed. The scent had indeed changed. Still garbed in practically nothing but the meanger rags that he'd fled the cave in, Galve had shifted as he had slept. Nanites had taken over and he'd shifted back to his native form, a satyr-like kemo sheep. Stirring around, the effeminate agent pushed himself up on sore arms and surveyed himself. Pushing his fleecy hair from his eyes and clambering from the bed, he wandered out of the room still completely unclothed, still half-asleep and barely recovered from his previous condition and the exhaustion from the trip here. Sounds of motion. Yeah, the other was awake. Acetyl realized they'd never even had a chance to exchange names. Pilot of your own destiny, indeed, the Storm Dragon grumbled internally, feeling annoyed with himself. You'd be better off sleeping with strangers like everyone else does, old thunder lizard. Well. Too late for that now. Stretching his digitigrade legs beneath the blankets, doing his best not to catch the fabric on his spurs, Acetyl turned automatically, drawing another hit from the glass pipe as he glanced at the doorway. Expecting a bunny, the Storm Dragon blinked and looked around more sharply as a sheep emerged. His nostrils flared and eyes narrowed, but after a few seconds he sat back again, recognizing a native shift. He hadn't been expecting that, but he supposed it wasn't important. He himself shifted around at times, as a Nanite Adept, so he couldn't hold it against someone else if they sometimes found it useful to be something else. For all he knew, the bunny form had been forced on the other agent as part of the captivity. The idea was uncomfortable. The whole situation was uncomfortable. Again, Acetyl turned the guilt he felt into a mental weapon and cut himself on it, bleeding out the guilty feeling so it turned into a sort of self-loathing resignation. He'd had his fun, after all, done whatever he damn well pleased with no thought for the consequences, that night. Now he was sane, sober, and the bill had come due. Time to pay the price of admission.

You've got no one to blame but yourself, man. It's a fully mackin' triple overhead and you're going to surf that son of a bitch or it's going to kill you. And you're the one who brought a board and swam out to the lineup, aren't you, sonny? So start paddling. Catch it, or it's gonna catch you.

Acetyl went to light the bowl again, but found it empty. He sat up, reaching for a low, battered coffee table in front of the bedding-strewn couch, and seized his grinder, preparing to load a new bowl. As he worked, he hummed to himself, not looking at the sleepy sheep. As much as he wanted to confront the issue right away, it was clear at a glance that the other was still in a fragile condition. Better start slow. "Wake 'n bake, man. If you smoke, c'mere and take yer turn. Then food." This all was spoken without looking at Galve, but after a few moments, the Storm Dragon looked over his shoulder at the sheep. "Never caught your name, by the way." He didn't offer his own. Slowly waking, Galve caught a smoke cloud in the face as he entered the main room and staggered for a moment, waving his hands around to clear the air as he coughed.
"S-sorry... I dont smoke." He said, coughing again. When he finally managed to clear his lungs, he moved into a less direct line with the smoking dragon as a precaution. "Galve.... my name is Galve...." he said, replying to the request. Offering an indifferent shrug, the draconic anthro flicked the lighter. It sparked but didn't light very well. He glared at it, tried another couple times, then tossed it onto the table with a piqued grunt. The pipe emitted a feeble stream of smoke, only barely lit. "Fuck. Things were worthless even before P-Day, but now, if I'm lucky enough to find one at all, they're all nanite-chewed. Don't last for shit. Waste of butane." He began fishing around in his jeans pockets before withdrawing a new one. There's something odd about the way the draconic mutant speaks without looking at Galve most of the time - as if he might have said the same words to the empty room, talking to himself, whether Galve was there or not.

Reinforcing that impression, one golden-bronze eye slid toward Galve again as the mutant chewed idly at the stem of the pipe, as if he'd been lost in thought and was just now remembering the other was in the room. "Well. I'm Acetyl. I know. It's not a name. But it's what I got now," the Storm Dragon added in a dull, slightly impatient, yet resigned tone, as if reciting an often-repeated explanation. The new-found lighter clicked once, twice, and sputtered, but then caught - just long enough to get the bowl going again. Acetyl took a long draw, but held it this time for longer, cupping his hand over the bowl again so that it went out quickly. When the dragon exhaled this time, after just under sixty seconds of holding his breath, nothing emerged from his lungs. "Open a window then, if it's a bother. I guess it's a rare vice this days," he added sardonically. His predator's eyes rested on Galve with a wary intensity. Then his voice took on a gruff growl, as if he were embarassed or unwilling to broach this topic but felt unable to avoid it any longer. "So. What - I mean," He frowned, interrupted himself, started again. "... Let's start at the top, I guess. Why did I found you where I did? How did you get there? Who put you there? Don't tell me why. I can guess why," he added sourly. Pestered with questions, Galve did his best to recall what happened. "Its.... fuzzy. Like some part of me doesn't want to remember.... But I do remember being captured by gatoress... Galve scratches at his chin thoughtfully. "I was explor... no I was lost. Trying to find... something.... I can't remember now...." Acetyl grunts. "Color me unsurprised. Looked like she was doing her best to turn you feral. Going feral tends to fuck your memory at least a little bit." The Storm Dragon speaks as if he has reason to know. He glances around, looking for something. Apparently he doesn't see it, because he begins to extricate himself from his tangled sleeping place. More nest than bed, he treats it that way, too, kicking much of the bedding to the floor as he gets loose and stands up. "I need a drink. You want anything? It's as easy to make one thing as another." "Umm.... I.... I'm not sure.... Some water, maybe." Galve said, looking around for a chair or something to sit on, his legs still aching from the previous flight. Nodding, Acetyl turned away and headed to a door in one wall. "The edibles lab - er, the kitchen, I guess - is the floor below us. I'll be right back." It was lucky Galve only wanted water, or he might've had to produce what was needed with nanomagic. He doubted Galve would have been terribly comfortable drinking something he'd produced with his own biochemistry. Then again, who knows... maybe he's used to that sort of thing. It's the post-P-Day world, after all. The building was a research and development center, but a small one, so he was often short or out of a lot of important stuff, since the division was new and only consisted of himself thus far. But one thing he did have a reasonable supply of on hand most of the time was water. For himself, he wanted a glass of milk. Being associated with Zephyr did have some benefits, he thought as he grabbed a bottle of chilled Cow Maiden milk from the fridge in the edible projects lab. Not fridge, Acetyl reminded himself absently. Icebox. The building didn't have electricity, so Acetyl had resorted to using Cryo Nanomagic and his own ingenuity as a crafter to make this ersatz icebox. Now he tended to think of it as 'the fridge', even though he knew better. It was a pain to keep it working and didn't really keep perishables that long because he had to redo the ice all the time or it would start to warm up again, meaning when he left the building for hours, the ice would melt before he got back. Still, it worked well enough in terms of keeping a supply of chilled water available, and if he was in the building and able to return to keep the ice solid on a regular basis, Acetyl could enjoy such luxuries as cold milk sometimes. It was worth the effort, to him. Returning to the living area on the top shelf, he noticed Galve looking a bit lost, as if he wanted to sit down but wasn't sure where. Acetyl couldn't blame the other. He'd furnished the upstairs more or less purely for his own comfort, even though there was room for up to seven other people to dorm up there if needed. Thus there was a lot of empty space, and doors leading into unfurnished rooms. None of the rooms were large, but the relative lack of stuff in them made it seem bigger than it was. Acetyl looked around, feeling annoyed with himself - how could he forget to bring a damn chair up here? Then he shrugged and sat down at the far end of the couch, gesturing at the other end. There was a cushion's worth of space between them; the storm dragon hoped that would be enough to make Galve comfortable. He'd have to remember to make or bring a chair up here later on. For now that would have to do. He set the glass of water he'd brought for Galve on the coffee table before taking a long swallow from the glass bottle of milk. "Mmmh. So. You don't remember why you went. You don't remember your captor. Do you remember... anything? Where those scars on your back came from, maybe?" The Storm Dragon was watching Galve very closely now, a sharpness in his gaze, not hostile necessarily, but not entirely a friendly sort of interest, either. "Umm..... Scars? What scars? All I remember.... what I do remember, anyway, is mostly just pain and pleasure melted together..... Maybe she did it, I dont know." Galve mused, taking a seat on the couch and taking the water, sipping it slowly, slightly unnerved and suspicious with how... specific the dragon was being. Acetyl met the kemo sheep's gaze with a calm, unemotive stare. Almost as if he thought Galve were lying, but felt nothing emotionally about that. Or maybe, thought Galve was in denial. "So. You haven't noticed, then? Didn't notice at all." He paused a moment, watching Gelve in silence, before continuing. "Everything she did to you healed as it normally would. Pain is cheap these days," he adds with a growling chuckle. That remark might have simply been cynical or depressive or maybe black humor from someone else. But the weird, unsettling aura which perpetually hung around the storm dragon gave the remark a sort of dark, capering humor that had nothing in common with a normal person's black humor - the malicious glee of something totally inhuman. Yet there was an undeniable undercurrent of pain in the statement that revealed profound human depths of thought and emotion behind it as well. It was a bizarre combination, almost as offputting in its uncomfortable blend as the unnatural aura would have been on its own.

When Acetyl broke eye contact, the weird spell of the aura broke, too, leaving Galve to wonder if perhaps he'd imagined the weirdness. Acetyl took another long drink. But then he looked back to the kemo sheep, and the weirdness was back. It wasn't part of Acetyl's nature, but he wore it like an old and familiar cloak, so that it seemed to be as much a part of his own being as the golden-bronze color of his eyes or the long mane of humanlike hair hanging around his bestial face. "But your back still hurts." It was not a question. It was a statement of fact, spoken with a cool disinterest that belied the intense focus in the dragon's eyes as he watched Galve to see his reaction. "W-well.... now that you mention it...." He'd felt a discomfort, a small burning sensation, from his bare back since they left, but adrenaline and fear had kept it dulled. Now that everything was calm, and now that his attention was directed to it, the pain was back. Especially with whatever this dragon was doing to him. "P-probably just tore a muscle or something... Maybe the gator got me.. The flickering, faint bioluminescence of the dragon's eyes flared brighter for a moment, but faded quickly. At the same time, a more human flash of impatience twists his expression. His thin lips pulled back as if he were about to snap something, but then his mouth closed, expression becoming tired and rather sad. Maybe even a bit guilty. "Sorry. I'm feeling... uncharacteristically impatient." He considered taking something a little stronger, but thought better of it, flicking his fingers in unconscious dismissal of the idea. He noticed the look on Galve's face and, not for the first time, resented the way that non-Acolytes tended to react to an active Acolyte's presence. The power of the Book was strong in him right now, as it had been on the night he'd cut those scars into Galve's back, as he needed to be in order to have a chance of understanding just what he'd done. But it was having a negative impact on Galve. It usually did that to non-Acolytes. But there was nothing he could do about it now. So he just drank more milk and sighed, looking down at his bottle rather than at Galve. "Sure. Tore a muscle." A little lopsided smile tugged at one side of his mouth. He fished around for his pipe and took another hit, once again covering the bowl so it went out quickly, though he did allow streams of smoke to emerge as he spoke - or, rather, had little choice in the matter, as he began to speak while still having the smoke in his lungs. Naturally, it billowed forth, oozing like silver serpents from his slit nostrils, puffing between his teeth as he talked. "Let's be honest with each other, Galve," the Storm Dragon chortled smokily, giving the sheep a one-eyed glance. "You stop pretending you're dumb enough to believe that. And I'll tell you exactly why your back still hurts. Deal?" Without waiting for Galve to respond, he blew the thin remnants of the smoke from his lungs and sat back, pulling in another hit. "Let me tell you a story. Once upon about a week ago, maybe - time's a bit fuzzy at this point - there was an agent. This agent was given a routine clear-out mission in the Bone Yard. This agent did not take this mission quite as seriously as he perhaps should have, and went out there with his metaphorical cock out." More smoke breathed forth, though again thin and weak as 'Cet was holding it long enough for much of it to be absorbed, even though, as before, it tended to escape as he spoke. "Well, this agent got exactly what he was asking for. He made the bastards pay in blood, but he paid plenty himself." There was a pause as he flexed the retractile claw from his thumb and used it to stir the bowl, looking down at the business his hands were involved in.

"Let's not linger on the ugly details for now. The long and short of it is, this agent... did not keep his cool. This agent... regressed." He spoke with a sort of calm that was distant by emotional force, willpower and training giving his recitation a clipped delivery, as if he were reporting to a superior officer, though with that subtle tone of sardonic darkness that one probably would not use with a superior... if one could control it, anyway, which Acetyl could not. It was an aspect of the unnatural aura of an Acolyte.

Turning the now mostly-smoked bowl in his hands, watching the shine on its glass, Acetyl's voice became more subdued, yet with a rumble to it somewhere near but not quite a growl. "He... was mutated in a way he was not accustomed to. He ran wild for several hours. While in this state of... regression... this agent found himself deep in the Naga Swamp. He found a cave that stank of a female feral... a gatoress." Acetyl's voice trailed off in a hiss. Galve sat and listened, starting to piece together the details. Rather than voice the obvious, he decided to nod instead and sipped on his water. One slit-pupiled eye lingers on Galve for a moment, gauging his reaction. Noting the noncommittal response, Acetyl snorts and scratches at his scruffy chin. "Let's not belabor the point. I think you're following. When this... oh, fuck it." Acetyl growls to himself, flexing his claws before sheathing them again. He doesn't want to meet Galve's gaze, but he makes himself look in the sheep's direction, at least. "When I found you that first time, I was gone. Straight gone. Remember on the way back? How I got when that big ol' bull gator got me? Like that, but worse. A lot worse. The pack that caught me on Boneyard Plateau would've spanked that gator with his own tail and had him begging for mercy within ten minutes. Ten strong, lead by a Promethean Stygian Hound gone totally feral. Determined to have their way with me, make me like them in the process. Typical feral bullshit," he grunted dismissively, though his eyes flicked away for a moment, revealing his discomfort and distress at the memory.

"They bit off more than they could chew." That inner light brightens briefly in Acetyl's eyes again as he says those words before fading to its usual dull flicker. "But they got their way, damn them. I only got out by becoming like them. At least, enough to count," he finished in a bitter tone. "Most of what I did to you... it was bad. But I put it square by getting your ass out of there," he growls, almost harshly, sounding rather as if he's trying to convince himself of that as much as Galve. "But... there's something else." Outside, a Psilocybe Dragon flies past, but Acetyl doesn't even glance toward it, apparently well accustomed to such weirdness going by his windows. He looks at Galve silently, leaning forward, almost hugging himself, gazing at the other on the far side of the couch. "How much do you know about Woodfield?" "Only that RSX operates out of there. And that there are significantly more.... creepy mutants, rather than just oversexed furries, among the mutants there." Galve said, relaying what he knew from idle research in the Zephyr lobby. The Storm Dragon gives Galve that one-sided smile again. "Creepy is a word for it. And have you heard of the Necromantic Acolytes?" There is a pause, ever so slight, before Acetyl speaks the name of the cult. ".... No.... Am I going to turn into some kind of zombie? What did you do to me?" Galve said, not even trying to hide the fear in his voice as the pieces started to fit together "Zombie? Warden's balls, no. At least, I really doubt it. Even if I did, it'd only be cosmetic, like any other nanite mutation. There are no real zombies. Not... not here. Maybe not anywhere. Not that you need to worry about, anyway." Something in Acetyl's voice was a little wavery at the last, as if he knew more than he was saying - something that made him, too, a little anxious. But he moved on quickly, rolling his milk bottle between his hands a couple of times before draining it at a long pull. "To tell the truth, I don't know exactly what I did. That's why you're here. Your back hurts because while I - when I found you, I mean..." That was another moment where he caught himself and censored whatever he'd been about to say, but he continued quickly enough to cover up the slip, whatever it had been about to be. "You were bound, with your back exposed. I... among other things... well... I... kind of... drew on you." Now he sounds very human, indeed, downright embarassed. The animalistic eyes shift upward, glancing to the ceiling. "With... my claws." He swallows, still looking up and away, as if too anxious or embarassed to meet Galve's eyes. "And what I drew... It could be nothing. It could be important. The problem is, I don't remember. When I was in that state, I guess some of what I drew..." Suddenly, Acetyl shakes his head irritably, growling. "Ugh. No, I'm doing this out of order." He heaves a frustrated sigh. "OK, it's like this. In Woodfield, there's a book. A really important book. A book that... I said I wouldn't bullshit you, didn't I? Fine, I won't. It's not from this world. I'm not even sure it's really a book at all. Sometimes there seems to be a... a mind, or awareness at least, associated with it. Sometimes I think it just takes the form of a book in this world." He stops, snapping his mouth shut. Closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his muzzle, rubbing just beneath his horn. "Nevermind. Forget all that. Just... rambling. The point is, if you go to Woodfield, and you... do certain things, make certain agreements, pay your way, so to speak... you can see the book. Even read it." His voice was a low whisper now, full of the muttering rumble of a cold winter rain. Acetyl rainily rataplans, "And in that book are... let's call them formulae. Equations, of a sort. Except that in a way, they're also a language. And a way to ask questions. I may have asked some questions. And gotten some answers." " By now, Acetyl is actually biting his lower lip, glancing at Galve with a definite look of apology and guilt. The weird aura is still around him, but now he seems almost lost within it, a man struggling to do his best but sinking beneath the mire of his own bad choices regardless. Nodding slowly, Galve put his hand on the dragon's arm. "Its ok just calm down, neither of us need to lose our cool right now." Galve said. "Sometimes things happen. We'll see how this little fuck up turns out." He said, trying to be optimistic despite his internal fears. The storm dragon almost jumps in surprise, unused to spontaneous gestures like that, but controls the startle enough to reduce it to a mild (if still visible) twitch. He glances at Galve curiously, then barks a short, cynical laugh. "Things happen. Can you really reduce this to that? It's not like I tripped and just happened to scrawl ritual hieroglyphs into your skin. But..." He sighs again, gritting his teeth so that the breath hisses through his sharp teeth. "Well... thanks," he finishes lamely, apparently unable to find better words, or any words beyond that. His eyes unfocus and he looks distant and thoughtful for a minute or so. Speaking slowly, he says, "You know, that's the bitch of it. If I'd done it on purpose... well, I'd know what I'd done." He chuckles ruefully, shaking his head to himself. "That's the irony. I've never done a ritual when ... out of it, like that. Oh, I mean, you do the chants and the dances, recite the mantras and do the meditation exercises, drink the holy sacrament and kiss the holy asses. All that stuff. And your mind changes, sure. You're in an altered state when you deal with a supernatural dedication, no question. But it's different. You're still doing it by choice. It's almost like..." But then he shivers, and trails off without finishing the sentence. Acetyl looks to Galve frankly, then. "The point is, I'm going to need to keep you here for a while. I might even need to take you out to Woodfield. The only way to understand all of that, in its entirety, is to study it. Translate it. Do the math, so to speak."[[Category:RPLogs]]

On the Significance of Scars, Part One - RPLOG

2016-10-10T06:35:23Z

Acetyl:

=Participants=
* [[Acetyl]]
* [[Galve]]
=Date=
18/9/2016
=Log=
<div></div> The small, dilapidated building stood along the edge of the wall separating Xanadu Gardens from the rest of Fairhaven Park. To a casual glance, the building might still seem abandoned, but a discerning eye would note signs of attempted repair and reclamation. It might have been anything, back when it was new - maybe even one of those characterless McMansions that sprouted like mushrooms in parts of Californina before P-Day. But it's been crudely renovated and rebuilt along the model of an office building. It was probably easy to spot back when it was first built, but with the current, wild state of the gardens' overgrown foliage, the building was now effectively set back into the line of woods that bordered the Field of Dreams.

Inside, it was quite different. Obviously, a significant chunk of someone's personal resources, and most likely some official Zephyr resources as well, have been invested in making this place a functional subdivision headquarters. To judge by the state of the interior, most of the building is occupied by a small but very active research & development team, focusing on both crafting and nanomagic.

The uppermost floor, by contrast, is set up as a living space, albeit a rather cluttered and neglected one. There are concessions to comfort here, though nothing very expensive-looking and much appears to have been scavenged and repaired to the best of the scavenger's ability (which isn't always too good.) There is a sort of nest consisting of a couch on which various pillows and blankets have been piled, and a neatly made, very unused-looking bed.

This is where Acetyl brought Galve after they were able to escape from the Swamp. Too exhausted by the ordeal of escaping to do much more than flee for home, and too shell-shocked to face the crowds in Zephyr's lobby which he'd have to pass through to get to his official apartment, he'd come here, to the Xanadu R&D building. It was hardly ready for its proper purpose, much less to be hosting visitors, but Acetyl had felt like he had nowhere else to go. Totally burned out, he'd plunked Galve on the unused bed before crawling into his unkempt couch-nest. He was so exhausted he'd fallen asleep with his pipe clutched in one clawed hand, lighter in the other, both unused.

Acetyl woke up the same way, hands feeling a bit cramped and tired from gripping the two objects all night as he slept. The subtle, dull ache was very minor, and would have been mildly annoying normally, but it was totally swamped out by the pain in the rest of his body. His nanites were mostly done repairing the damage he'd taken fighting the feral Male Gator on the way out, but his cells weren't done bitching about the trauma they'd suffered yet. Emitting an irritable, throaty growl, Acetyl pushed himself upright in the mess of bedding sprawled over the leather couch and lit the bowl he'd loaded the night before. Normally, infected agents benefitted little from drugs, but one of the benefits of Xanadu Gardens was that the drugs here worked. 'Cet had his suspicions about why, but no proof yet. It was one reason the R&D building was here. Zephyr, and Acetyl, both wanted to know what the hell was up with this place. A pleasant mystery, it was. He had enough unpleasant mysteries in his life.

Of course, exhaling a gout of smoke through his slit nostrils, Acetyl knew he had no one to blame but himself for that. Perversely, being in control of his own descent into the darkness made him feel less bitter about it. At least he was no victim of outside forces. Merely his own victim. He'd chosen this.

And speaking of which... Acetyl's sensitive ear twitched. He heard motion from the bedroom. Why did he make a bedroom, anyway, when he'd always slept on the damn couch...? Still grouchy and groggy from waking up, Acetyl took another hit, trying to decide how to handle what was coming. You rolled this joint for yourself, dragon. Now light it up and smoke it, he told himself cynically. "Oi. You up?" He called quietly, in case Galve had merely turned over in his sleep. But instinct told him the other agent was awake. Something about how the smell coming from the open door to the bedroom had changed. The scent had indeed changed. Still garbed in practically nothing but the meanger rags that he'd fled the cave in, Galve had shifted as he had slept. Nanites had taken over and he'd shifted back to his native form, a satyr-like kemo sheep. Stirring around, the effeminate agent pushed himself up on sore arms and surveyed himself. Pushing his fleecy hair from his eyes and clambering from the bed, he wandered out of the room still completely unclothed, still half-asleep and barely recovered from his previous condition and the exhaustion from the trip here. Sounds of motion. Yeah, the other was awake. Acetyl realized they'd never even had a chance to exchange names. Pilot of your own destiny, indeed, the Storm Dragon grumbled internally, feeling annoyed with himself. You'd be better off sleeping with strangers like everyone else does, old thunder lizard. Well. Too late for that now. Stretching his digitigrade legs beneath the blankets, doing his best not to catch the fabric on his spurs, Acetyl turned automatically, drawing another hit from the glass pipe as he glanced at the doorway. Expecting a bunny, the Storm Dragon blinked and looked around more sharply as a sheep emerged. His nostrils flared and eyes narrowed, but after a few seconds he sat back again, recognizing a native shift. He hadn't been expecting that, but he supposed it wasn't important. He himself shifted around at times, as a Nanite Adept, so he couldn't hold it against someone else if they sometimes found it useful to be something else. For all he knew, the bunny form had been forced on the other agent as part of the captivity. The idea was uncomfortable. The whole situation was uncomfortable. Again, Acetyl turned the guilt he felt into a mental weapon and cut himself on it, bleeding out the guilty feeling so it turned into a sort of self-loathing resignation. He'd had his fun, after all, done whatever he damn well pleased with no thought for the consequences, that night. Now he was sane, sober, and the bill had come due. Time to pay the price of admission.

You've got no one to blame but yourself, man. It's a fully mackin' triple overhead and you're going to surf that son of a bitch or it's going to kill you. And you're the one who brought a board and swam out to the lineup, aren't you, sonny? So start paddling. Catch it, or it's gonna catch you.

Acetyl went to light the bowl again, but found it empty. He sat up, reaching for a low, battered coffee table in front of the bedding-strewn couch, and seized his grinder, preparing to load a new bowl. As he worked, he hummed to himself, not looking at the sleepy sheep. As much as he wanted to confront the issue right away, it was clear at a glance that the other was still in a fragile condition. Better start slow. "Wake 'n bake, man. If you smoke, c'mere and take yer turn. Then food." This all was spoken without looking at Galve, but after a few moments, the Storm Dragon looked over his shoulder at the sheep. "Never caught your name, by the way." He didn't offer his own. Slowly waking, Galve caught a smoke cloud in the face as he entered the main room and staggered for a moment, waving his hands around to clear the air as he coughed.
"S-sorry... I dont smoke." He said, coughing again. When he finally managed to clear his lungs, he moved into a less direct line with the smoking dragon as a precaution. "Galve.... my name is Galve...." he said, replying to the request. Offering an indifferent shrug, the draconic anthro flicked the lighter. It sparked but didn't light very well. He glared at it, tried another couple times, then tossed it onto the table with a piqued grunt. The pipe emitted a feeble stream of smoke, only barely lit. "Fuck. Things were worthless even before P-Day, but now, if I'm lucky enough to find one at all, they're all nanite-chewed. Don't last for shit. Waste of butane." He began fishing around in his jeans pockets before withdrawing a new one. There's something odd about the way the draconic mutant speaks without looking at Galve most of the time - as if he might have said the same words to the empty room, talking to himself, whether Galve was there or not.

Reinforcing that impression, one golden-bronze eye slid toward Galve again as the mutant chewed idly at the stem of the pipe, as if he'd been lost in thought and was just now remembering the other was in the room. "Well. I'm Acetyl. I know. It's not a name. But it's what I got now," the Storm Dragon added in a dull, slightly impatient, yet resigned tone, as if reciting an often-repeated explanation. The new-found lighter clicked once, twice, and sputtered, but then caught - just long enough to get the bowl going again. Acetyl took a long draw, but held it this time for longer, cupping his hand over the bowl again so that it went out quickly. When the dragon exhaled this time, after just under sixty seconds of holding his breath, nothing emerged from his lungs. "Open a window then, if it's a bother. I guess it's a rare vice this days," he added sardonically. His predator's eyes rested on Galve with a wary intensity. Then his voice took on a gruff growl, as if he were embarassed or unwilling to broach this topic but felt unable to avoid it any longer. "So. What - I mean," He frowned, interrupted himself, started again. "... Let's start at the top, I guess. Why did I found you where I did? How did you get there? Who put you there? Don't tell me why. I can guess why," he added sourly. Pestered with questions, Galve did his best to recall what happened. "Its.... fuzzy. Like some part of me doesn't want to remember.... But I do remember being captured by gatoress... Galve scratches at his chin thoughtfully. "I was explor... no I was lost. Trying to find... something.... I can't remember now...." Acetyl grunts. "Color me unsurprised. Looked like she was doing her best to turn you feral. Going feral tends to fuck your memory at least a little bit." The Storm Dragon speaks as if he has reason to know. He glances around, looking for something. Apparently he doesn't see it, because he begins to extricate himself from his tangled sleeping place. More nest than bed, he treats it that way, too, kicking much of the bedding to the floor as he gets loose and stands up. "I need a drink. You want anything? It's as easy to make one thing as another." "Umm.... I.... I'm not sure.... Some water, maybe." Galve said, looking around for a chair or something to sit on, his legs still aching from the previous flight. Nodding, Acetyl turned away and headed to a door in one wall. "The edibles lab - er, the kitchen, I guess - is the floor below us. I'll be right back." It was lucky Galve only wanted water, or he might've had to produce what was needed with nanomagic. He doubted Galve would have been terribly comfortable drinking something he'd produced with his own biochemistry. Then again, who knows... maybe he's used to that sort of thing. It's the post-P-Day world, after all. The building was a research and development center, but a small one, so he was often short or out of a lot of important stuff, since the division was new and only consisted of himself thus far. But one thing he did have a reasonable supply of on hand most of the time was water. For himself, he wanted a glass of milk. Being associated with Zephyr did have some benefits, he thought as he grabbed a bottle of chilled Cow Maiden milk from the fridge in the edible projects lab. Not fridge, Acetyl reminded himself absently. Icebox. The building didn't have electricity, so Acetyl had resorted to using Cryo Nanomagic and his own ingenuity as a crafter to make this ersatz icebox. Now he tended to think of it as 'the fridge', even though he knew better. It was a pain to keep it working and didn't really keep perishables that long because he had to redo the ice all the time or it would start to warm up again, meaning when he left the building for hours, the ice would melt before he got back. Still, it worked well enough in terms of keeping a supply of chilled water available, and if he was in the building and able to return to keep the ice solid on a regular basis, Acetyl could enjoy such luxuries as cold milk sometimes. It was worth the effort, to him. %r %r Returning to the living area on the top shelf, he noticed Galve looking a bit lost, as if he wanted to sit down but wasn't sure where. Acetyl couldn't blame the other. He'd furnished the upstairs more or less purely for his own comfort, even though there was room for up to seven other people to dorm up there if needed. Thus there was a lot of empty space, and doors leading into unfurnished rooms. None of the rooms were large, but the relative lack of stuff in them made it seem bigger than it was. Acetyl looked around, feeling annoyed with himself - how could he forget to bring a damn chair up here? Then he shrugged and sat down at the far end of the couch, gesturing at the other end. There was a cushion's worth of space between them; the storm dragon hoped that would be enough to make Galve comfortable. He'd have to remember to make or bring a chair up here later on. For now that would have to do. He set the glass of water he'd brought for Galve on the coffee table before taking a long swallow from the glass bottle of milk. "Mmmh. So. You don't remember why you went. You don't remember your captor. Do you remember... anything? Where those scars on your back came from, maybe?" The Storm Dragon was watching Galve very closely now, a sharpness in his gaze, not hostile necessarily, but not entirely a friendly sort of interest, either. "Umm..... Scars? What scars? All I remember.... what I do remember, anyway, is mostly just pain and pleasure melted together..... Maybe she did it, I dont know." Galve mused, taking a seat on the couch and taking the water, sipping it slowly, slightly unnerved and suspicious with how... specific the dragon was being. Acetyl met the kemo sheep's gaze with a calm, unemotive stare. Almost as if he thought Galve were lying, but felt nothing emotionally about that. Or maybe, thought Galve was in denial. "So. You haven't noticed, then? Didn't notice at all." He paused a moment, watching Gelve in silence, before continuing. "Everything she did to you healed as it normally would. Pain is cheap these days," he adds with a growling chuckle. That remark might have simply been cynical or depressive or maybe black humor from someone else. But the weird, unsettling aura which perpetually hung around the storm dragon gave the remark a sort of dark, capering humor that had nothing in common with a normal person's black humor - the malicious glee of something totally inhuman. Yet there was an undeniable undercurrent of pain in the statement that revealed profound human depths of thought and emotion behind it as well. It was a bizarre combination, almost as offputting in its uncomfortable blend as the unnatural aura would have been on its own.

When Acetyl broke eye contact, the weird spell of the aura broke, too, leaving Galve to wonder if perhaps he'd imagined the weirdness. Acetyl took another long drink. But then he looked back to the kemo sheep, and the weirdness was back. It wasn't part of Acetyl's nature, but he wore it like an old and familiar cloak, so that it seemed to be as much a part of his own being as the golden-bronze color of his eyes or the long mane of humanlike hair hanging around his bestial face. "But your back still hurts." It was not a question. It was a statement of fact, spoken with a cool disinterest that belied the intense focus in the dragon's eyes as he watched Galve to see his reaction. "W-well.... now that you mention it...." He'd felt a discomfort, a small burning sensation, from his bare back since they left, but adrenaline and fear had kept it dulled. Now that everything was calm, and now that his attention was directed to it, the pain was back. Especially with whatever this dragon was doing to him. "P-probably just tore a muscle or something... Maybe the gator got me.. The flickering, faint bioluminescence of the dragon's eyes flared brighter for a moment, but faded quickly. At the same time, a more human flash of impatience twists his expression. His thin lips pulled back as if he were about to snap something, but then his mouth closed, expression becoming tired and rather sad. Maybe even a bit guilty. "Sorry. I'm feeling... uncharacteristically impatient." He considered taking something a little stronger, but thought better of it, flicking his fingers in unconscious dismissal of the idea. He noticed the look on Galve's face and, not for the first time, resented the way that non-Acolytes tended to react to an active Acolyte's presence. The power of the Book was strong in him right now, as it had been on the night he'd cut those scars into Galve's back, as he needed to be in order to have a chance of understanding just what he'd done. But it was having a negative impact on Galve. It usually did that to non-Acolytes. But there was nothing he could do about it now. So he just drank more milk and sighed, looking down at his bottle rather than at Galve. "Sure. Tore a muscle." A little lopsided smile tugged at one side of his mouth. He fished around for his pipe and took another hit, once again covering the bowl so it went out quickly, though he did allow streams of smoke to emerge as he spoke - or, rather, had little choice in the matter, as he began to speak while still having the smoke in his lungs. Naturally, it billowed forth, oozing like silver serpents from his slit nostrils, puffing between his teeth as he talked. "Let's be honest with each other, Galve," the Storm Dragon chortled smokily, giving the sheep a one-eyed glance. "You stop pretending you're dumb enough to believe that. And I'll tell you exactly why your back still hurts. Deal?" Without waiting for Galve to respond, he blew the thin remnants of the smoke from his lungs and sat back, pulling in another hit. "Let me tell you a story. Once upon about a week ago, maybe - time's a bit fuzzy at this point - there was an agent. This agent was given a routine clear-out mission in the Bone Yard. This agent did not take this mission quite as seriously as he perhaps should have, and went out there with his metaphorical cock out." More smoke breathed forth, though again thin and weak as 'Cet was holding it long enough for much of it to be absorbed, even though, as before, it tended to escape as he spoke. "Well, this agent got exactly what he was asking for. He made the bastards pay in blood, but he paid plenty himself." There was a pause as he flexed the retractile claw from his thumb and used it to stir the bowl, looking down at the business his hands were involved in.

"Let's not linger on the ugly details for now. The long and short of it is, this agent... did not keep his cool. This agent... regressed." He spoke with a sort of calm that was distant by emotional force, willpower and training giving his recitation a clipped delivery, as if he were reporting to a superior officer, though with that subtle tone of sardonic darkness that one probably would not use with a superior... if one could control it, anyway, which Acetyl could not. It was an aspect of the unnatural aura of an Acolyte.

Turning the now mostly-smoked bowl in his hands, watching the shine on its glass, Acetyl's voice became more subdued, yet with a rumble to it somewhere near but not quite a growl. "He... was mutated in a way he was not accustomed to. He ran wild for several hours. While in this state of... regression... this agent found himself deep in the Naga Swamp. He found a cave that stank of a female feral... a gatoress." Acetyl's voice trailed off in a hiss. Galve sat and listened, starting to piece together the details. Rather than voice the obvious, he decided to nod instead and sipped on his water. One slit-pupiled eye lingers on Galve for a moment, gauging his reaction. Noting the noncommittal response, Acetyl snorts and scratches at his scruffy chin. "Let's not belabor the point. I think you're following. When this... oh, fuck it." Acetyl growls to himself, flexing his claws before sheathing them again. He doesn't want to meet Galve's gaze, but he makes himself look in the sheep's direction, at least. "When I found you that first time, I was gone. Straight gone. Remember on the way back? How I got when that big ol' bull gator got me? Like that, but worse. A lot worse. The pack that caught me on Boneyard Plateau would've spanked that gator with his own tail and had him begging for mercy within ten minutes. Ten strong, lead by a Promethean Stygian Hound gone totally feral. Determined to have their way with me, make me like them in the process. Typical feral bullshit," he grunted dismissively, though his eyes flicked away for a moment, revealing his discomfort and distress at the memory.

"They bit off more than they could chew." That inner light brightens briefly in Acetyl's eyes again as he says those words before fading to its usual dull flicker. "But they got their way, damn them. I only got out by becoming like them. At least, enough to count," he finished in a bitter tone. "Most of what I did to you... it was bad. But I put it square by getting your ass out of there," he growls, almost harshly, sounding rather as if he's trying to convince himself of that as much as Galve. "But... there's something else." Outside, a Psilocybe Dragon flies past, but Acetyl doesn't even glance toward it, apparently well accustomed to such weirdness going by his windows. He looks at Galve silently, leaning forward, almost hugging himself, gazing at the other on the far side of the couch. "How much do you know about Woodfield?" "Only that RSX operates out of there. And that there are significantly more.... creepy mutants, rather than just oversexed furries, among the mutants there." Galve said, relaying what he knew from idle research in the Zephyr lobby. The Storm Dragon gives Galve that one-sided smile again. "Creepy is a word for it. And have you heard of the Necromantic Acolytes?" There is a pause, ever so slight, before Acetyl speaks the name of the cult. ".... No.... Am I going to turn into some kind of zombie? What did you do to me?" Galve said, not even trying to hide the fear in his voice as the pieces started to fit together "Zombie? Warden's balls, no. At least, I really doubt it. Even if I did, it'd only be cosmetic, like any other nanite mutation. There are no real zombies. Not... not here. Maybe not anywhere. Not that you need to worry about, anyway." Something in Acetyl's voice was a little wavery at the last, as if he knew more than he was saying - something that made him, too, a little anxious. But he moved on quickly, rolling his milk bottle between his hands a couple of times before draining it at a long pull. "To tell the truth, I don't know exactly what I did. That's why you're here. Your back hurts because while I - when I found you, I mean..." That was another moment where he caught himself and censored whatever he'd been about to say, but he continued quickly enough to cover up the slip, whatever it had been about to be. "You were bound, with your back exposed. I... among other things... well... I... kind of... drew on you." Now he sounds very human, indeed, downright embarassed. The animalistic eyes shift upward, glancing to the ceiling. "With... my claws." He swallows, still looking up and away, as if too anxious or embarassed to meet Galve's eyes. "And what I drew... It could be nothing. It could be important. The problem is, I don't remember. When I was in that state, I guess some of what I drew..." Suddenly, Acetyl shakes his head irritably, growling. "Ugh. No, I'm doing this out of order." He heaves a frustrated sigh. "OK, it's like this. In Woodfield, there's a book. A really important book. A book that... I said I wouldn't bullshit you, didn't I? Fine, I won't. It's not from this world. I'm not even sure it's really a book at all. Sometimes there seems to be a... a mind, or awareness at least, associated with it. Sometimes I think it just takes the form of a book in this world." He stops, snapping his mouth shut. Closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his muzzle, rubbing just beneath his horn. "Nevermind. Forget all that. Just... rambling. The point is, if you go to Woodfield, and you... do certain things, make certain agreements, pay your way, so to speak... you can see the book. Even read it." His voice was a low whisper now, full of the muttering rumble of a cold winter rain. Acetyl rainily rataplans, "And in that book are... let's call them formulae. Equations, of a sort. Except that in a way, they're also a language. And a way to ask questions. I may have asked some questions. And gotten some answers." " By now, Acetyl is actually biting his lower lip, glancing at Galve with a definite look of apology and guilt. The weird aura is still around him, but now he seems almost lost within it, a man struggling to do his best but sinking beneath the mire of his own bad choices regardless. Nodding slowly, Galve put his hand on the dragon's arm. "Its ok just calm down, neither of us need to lose our cool right now." Galve said. "Sometimes things happen. We'll see how this little fuck up turns out." He said, trying to be optimistic despite his internal fears. The storm dragon almost jumps in surprise, unused to spontaneous gestures like that, but controls the startle enough to reduce it to a mild (if still visible) twitch. He glances at Galve curiously, then barks a short, cynical laugh. "Things happen. Can you really reduce this to that? It's not like I tripped and just happened to scrawl ritual hieroglyphs into your skin. But..." He sighs again, gritting his teeth so that the breath hisses through his sharp teeth. "Well... thanks," he finishes lamely, apparently unable to find better words, or any words beyond that. His eyes unfocus and he looks distant and thoughtful for a minute or so. Speaking slowly, he says, "You know, that's the bitch of it. If I'd done it on purpose... well, I'd know what I'd done." He chuckles ruefully, shaking his head to himself. "That's the irony. I've never done a ritual when ... out of it, like that. Oh, I mean, you do the chants and the dances, recite the mantras and do the meditation exercises, drink the holy sacrament and kiss the holy asses. All that stuff. And your mind changes, sure. You're in an altered state when you deal with a supernatural dedication, no question. But it's different. You're still doing it by choice. It's almost like..." But then he shivers, and trails off without finishing the sentence. Acetyl looks to Galve frankly, then. "The point is, I'm going to need to keep you here for a while. I might even need to take you out to Woodfield. The only way to understand all of that, in its entirety, is to study it. Translate it. Do the math, so to speak."[[Category:RPLogs]]

On the Significance of Scars, Part Two - RPLOG

2016-09-29T10:40:57Z

Acetyl: /* Log */

=Participants=
* [[Acetyl]]
* [[Galve]]
=Date=
21/9/2016
=Log=
<div></div> Trading one cage for another, it seemed. Galve thought about it for a moment... before informing Acetyl of his decision. "Alright. If you think that this is the best course of action, then I'm ok with whatever you have in mind." The storm dragon grunted. "Well, for what it's worth, here's your other option. I can let you go, having no idea what those spells do. You might be able to find someone else to help you. Another Acolyte would be your best bet in terms of likelihood of being able to solve it." Acetyl left unsaid that, as unsavory a person as he himself might be, his fellow cultists were not necessarily Eagle Scouts themselves, figuring Galve could likely figure that out for himself. They were discussing a group called the Necromantic Acolytes, after all, not the Benevolent Order of Sun Worship and Happy Trees.

"Of course," he continued, taking another hit from his pipe, "they'll probably want something in return for their help. They might not. I can't speak for you. But counting on charity has never worked out well for me." That familiar cynical bitterness was back in his tone, but this time it seemed more clearly a genuine feeling of the man's own than some weird contamination from the necromantic aura of the dark book which hovered over him. As he smoked, Acetyl seemed not to become terribly intoxicated, although the drug was clearly affecting him more than it would have a normal agent. The storm dragon was visibly more relaxed and less agitated than when the conversation began, though not mentally dulled or muddled in the slightest. If anything, he seemed more awake, as if the drug worked like tea for Acetyl. Highly aromatic, smoky tea. Whatever Acetyl was smoking just then filled the room with a distinctive scent compounded of unique elements and some Galve might have been surprised to recognize as a harmonious blend of citrus, conifer, and - of all things - an aroma that was not quite chocolate, but closer to that than anything else. It was like some kind of strange incense.

"And that's assuming you'll find one of us at all. There aren't too many of us. As far as I know." He grunted again, apparently considering something unpleasant if the frown on his heavy muzzle was any indication. "Well. What it comes down to is, you'd be gambling." Nodding quietly as he processed the information. "Well, then the best idea would be to stay with you then. I'd rather get this sorted out and done than run the risk of ending up on the wrong side of someone because of.... what happened.. Galve shrugs, reaching for his water again Acetyl nodded. "Good. Best for both of us that way. Maybe even everyone. That stuff," Acetyl replied, gesturing with his pipe at Galve to indicate the half-healed scars on the sheep's back. "may mean nothing. Er, that is - it means *something*, but it may not be very relevant to us. The Book is full of stuff like..." Acetyl gestured vaguely with the pipe-holding hand. "All kinds of occult gibberish. Prophecies meant to happen in three thousand years. Dead mythologies and instructions for appeasing their forgotten gods. Stories about allegedly historical events that it claims happened so long ago, I don't even want to think about it. Point is, a lot of the material is fascinating, but very difficult to understand and what little we can piece together often seems of very little practical meaning or value for right now. But..." Here he paused for another hit, and his gaze grew serious. "Not all of it is like that. Some of it..." If he were still human, he would have paled at this point. As it was, the electricity-like flickering glow in his eyes dimmed for a moment and he licked at his front teeth in a doglike gesture of anxiety. "I can't tell you. It'd be even more irresponsible than what I've done to you already. But let's just say that some of it... I can't tell how much is true and how much is some madman's insane ramblings, transcribed hallucinations and delusions. But... Well."

His grin took on a leering, ironic edge, and he shrugged. "I don't think I need to tell you that the Book as a whole is real. Its power is on me now. You feel it. I smell it on you. See it on your face. So let's just say that I'm inclined to take even its more absurd propositions seriously." Acetyl tilted his head, looking at Galve from one eye and then the other, in a rather birdlike motion. "I can't lie. There is a part of me that feels like the stakes are too high to give you a choice in this. But," he wiggled the fingers of his free hand in an ambivalent gesture. "the reality is that I can't force you to cooperate without resorting to some pretty fucked up tactics that I, frankly, would rather not have to use. I didn't go to all that trouble and get my ass ripped open by a gator, saving your sanity, only to turn around and destroy it myself." The casual way in which Acetyl spoke of these things would have been a bit weird in and of itself, but the unnatural aura layered its own strangeness onto his words and tone, subtly twisting them to something ever-so-slightly sardonic beneath its businesslike surface. Acetyl rainily rataplans, "So it's good I won't have to." Blanching, Galve gulped audibly and nodded. "Y-yeah, I... I like my sanity where it is.... Whatever you want to do I'm prepared for it." He said, mind slowly spinning through the random possible outcomes. Acetyl sets his pipe down on the battered coffee table. Stretching his arms above his head, the storm dragon's jaws gape in a yawn. Specialized teeth - for piercing skin, tearing meat, and, at the back, crushing bone - glint in the light for a moment before Acetyl closes his mouth, clicking his teeth. "For now, can't speak for you, but I'm hungry. Time to code breakfast. Might have something real among the edible salvage, but wouldn't count on finding anything too decent in there, tell the truth." Standing up, Acetyl stretched again, long tail wrapping around his waist like a fuzzy belt to keep it out of the way. His wings were not in evidence, apparently shifted away for now using some Nanite Adept tool or program. "I know some people are weird about eating nanofood, though, so if you want to take your chances in the salvage bin it's up to you." Galve nodded, Acetyl's statement punctuated with an audible growl from Galve's stomach. "Uhh... yeah I think I'll second that feeling. Nanite food is all they serve at Zephyr anyway so I have no qualms about it. Anything is good, I'm not picky."[[Category:RPLogs]]

User:Acetyl

2016-09-27T03:38:01Z

Acetyl:

2016-09-22T06:12:32Z

Acetyl:

Acetyl/Infobox

2016-09-22T06:10:46Z

Acetyl:

Using this box for random bits of information.

-Theme Songs- 
Puscifer - Telling Ghosts ("The more you take, the more you need. The more you suck, the more you bleed. The dead know better, so listen to the letter.") 
New Model Army - Far Better Thing ("Give me the strength to cut, and to keep our secret.") 
MC 900 Foot Jesus - The City Sleeps (general mood and theme rather than the subject per se - replace violent impulses with firesetting and it fits perfectly.) 
MC 900 Foot Jesus - Dali's Handgun (Particularly the end line: "The perfect gun leaves an exquisite corpse." If I have to pick one and only one quote or lyric to represent him, it's this one. It captures so much of his nature - his violent urges, his intellectualism, his creativity, his attraction to altered consciousness. But there's a lot of other lines that apply very well too, as does the overall feeling of the song. Other fitting lines, omitting the everpresent phrase 'the perfect gun': "A finger resting on the controls of a broken machine." "A dark intention." "Never waits for itself." "Blood at water level." "Exists in a savage state." "Will follow the free tendencies of desire." "A pill dropped in a glass of water." "Turns, as it pleases, toward all horizons." "Perfect sadism, at least as a method." "A beautiful chimera." "Is an idealist without taking part in any ideal." "Takes the shapes and colors of demoralization and confusion." "Not in the habit of saluting the dead." "Has drawn the symbol of the infinite." "Is not incompatible with a certain nobility of thought." "A door someone opened.") 
Necro - World Gone Mad (More for mood and also the sort of ideas and images that bombard Acetyl whether he likes it or not. Also the specific quote, "I believe to deny what is insane or to try to flee from it is to submit to it, to be at the mercy of it, when you should just study it.") 
Megadeth - Die Dead Enough ("Something's compelling me to run into the dark...") 
Bruce Dickinson - No Way Out... Continued ("What does it take to open up my eyes? What does it take to register surprise? What does it take to feel joy? What does it take to feel pain?" "I've read all the books about being ill." "I've been working hard for this all my life - and I like it this way!") 
Psycho Motel - A Quarter to Heaven ("The clock on the wall has struck once again - a quarter to Heaven, it's just not the same.")

(under construction)

Acetyl/Infobox

2016-09-22T06:10:28Z

Acetyl:

Using this box for random bits of information.

-Theme Songs- 
Puscifer - Telling Ghosts ("The more you take, the more you need. The more you suck, the more you bleed. The dead know better, so listen to the letter.") 
New Model Army - Far Better Thing ("Give me the strength to cut, and to keep our secret.") 
MC 900 Foot Jesus - The City Sleeps (general mood and theme rather than the subject per se - replace violent impulses with firesetting and it fits perfectly.) 
MC 900 Foot Jesus - Dali's Handgun (Particularly the end line: "The perfect gun leaves an exquisite corpse." If I have to pick one and only one quote or lyric to represent him, it's this one. It captures so much of his nature - his violent urges, his intellectualism, his creativity, his attraction to altered consciousness. But there's a lot of other lines that apply very well too, as does the overall feeling of the song. Other fitting lines, omitting the everpresent phrase 'the perfect gun': "A finger resting on the controls of a broken machine." "A dark intention." "Never waits for itself." "Blood at water level." "Exists in a savage state." "Will follow the free tendencies of desire." "A pill dropped in a glass of water." "Turns, as it pleases, toward all horizons." "Perfect sadism, at least as a method." "A beautiful chimera." "Is an idealist without taking part in any ideal." "Takes the shapes and colors of demoralization and confusion." "Not in the habit of saluting the dead." "Has drawn the symbol of the infinite." "Is not incompatible with a certain nobility of thought." "A door someone opened.") 
Necro - World Gone Mad (More for mood and also the sort of ideas and images that bombard Acetyl whether he likes it or not. Also the specific quote, "I believe to deny what is insane or to try to flee from it is to submit to it, to be at the mercy of it, when you should just study it.") 
Megadeth - Die Dead Enough ("Something's compelling me to run into the dark...") 
Bruce Dickinson - No Way Out... Continued ("What does it take to open up my eyes? What does it take to register surprise? What does it take to feel joy? What does it take to feel pain?" "I've read all the books about being ill." "I've been working hard for this all my life - and I like it this way!")
Psycho Motel - A Quarter to Heaven ("The clock on the wall has struck once again - a quarter to Heaven, it's just not the same.")

(under construction)

Acetyl/Infobox

2016-09-22T04:35:25Z

Acetyl:

Acetyl/Infobox

2016-09-22T04:35:05Z

Acetyl:

Using this box for random bits of information.

-Theme Songs- 
Puscifer - Telling Ghosts ("The more you take, the more you need. The more you suck, the more you bleed. The dead know better, so listen to the letter.") 
New Model Army - Far Better Thing ("Give me the strength to cut, and to keep our secret.") 
MC 900 Foot Jesus - The City Sleeps (general mood and theme rather than the subject per se - replace violent impulses with firesetting and it fits perfectly.) 
MC 900 Foot Jesus - Dali's Handgun (Particularly the end line: "The perfect gun leaves an exquisite corpse." If I have to pick one and only one quote or lyric to represent him, it's this one. It captures so much of his nature - his violent urges, his intellectualism, his creativity, his attraction to altered consciousness. But there's a lot of other lines that apply very well too, as does the overall feeling of the song. Other fitting lines, omitting the everpresent phrase 'the perfect gun': "A finger resting on the controls of a broken machine." "A dark intention." "Never waits for itself." "Blood at water level." "Exists in a savage state." "Will follow the free tendencies of desire." "A pill dropped in a glass of water." "Turns, as it pleases, toward all horizons." "Perfect sadism, at least as a method." "A beautiful chimera." "Is an idealist without taking part in any ideal." "Takes the shapes and colors of demoralization and confusion." "Not in the habit of saluting the dead." "Has drawn the symbol of the infinite." "Is not incompatible with a certain nobility of thought." "A door someone opened.") 
Necro - World Gone Mad (More for mood and also the sort of ideas and images that bombard Acetyl whether he likes it or not. Also the specific quote, "I believe to deny what is insane or to try to flee from it is to submit to it, to be at the mercy of it, when you should just study it.") 
Megadeth - Die Dead Enough ("Something's compelling me to run into the dark...") 
Bruce Dickinson - No Way Out... Continued ("What does it take to open up my eyes? What does it take to feel surprise? What does it take to feel joy? What does it take to feel pain?" "I've read all the books about being ill." "I've been working hard for this all my life - and I like it this way!")

(under construction)

Acetyl: Created page with "Galve - Involved in an ongoing plot. Iatro - Acetyl's NPC Mutant Companion. This creature is an odd mutant that appears to be made out of random bones, both human and ani..."

Acetyl/Hooks

2016-09-19T02:18:37Z

Acetyl: Created page with "- Owned Dedications: Nanite Adept, Necromantic Acolyte - One of the few, perhaps the only, native Storm Dragon PC. Also, the original/first Storm Dragon in that I wrote the f..."

- Owned Dedications: Nanite Adept, Necromantic Acolyte

- One of the few, perhaps the only, native Storm Dragon PC. Also, the original/first Storm Dragon in that I wrote the form specifically for Acetyl.

- Leader of Xanadu R&D, a Zephyr subdivision focused on crafting, research, and nanomagic.

- Nanomagic researcher and developer. Doesn't write whole nanomagics himself, obviously, but is one of many researchers and programmers who work on any given official Zephyr project to which he is assigned. On his own time he is more apt to craft, especially with chemicals and food, but he's highly skilled with any form of salvage and produces a wide variety of prototypes for Zephyr to consider as possible new products. Plus, of course, he makes most of his own equipment, even if it has to bear the official Zephyr logo most of the time.

(under construction)

Acetyl/Introduction

2016-09-19T02:05:16Z

Acetyl: Created page with "A native Storm Dragon full of paradoxes and conflicts. Loves reading, science, art and culture and technology, yet invariably goes around barefoot and has a deep love of Natur..."

A native Storm Dragon full of paradoxes and conflicts. Loves reading, science, art and culture and technology, yet invariably goes around barefoot and has a deep love of Nature and the wilderness, too. He is a computer scientist, head of the Xanadu R&D subdivision of Zephyr - and he also smokes weed and surfs. He is the agent responsible for the maintenance (and possibly the creation of, though he'd never, ever admit it) Xanadu Gardens. He is an accomplished crafter, specializing in chemistry and edibles, and is also involved in nanomagic research and design. He is also prone to savage outbursts, even cannibal acts, thanks to the weird impulses caused by his infection, and other oddities swirling around his Dimensionally Touched mind. Although he does his best to resist his darker urges and devote his life to being a useful, primarily scientific Zephyr agent, his undeniable talent for violence gets him sent out into the field over and over, where he struggles to remain in control of the darker, wilder parts of his personality, especially when he is badly hurt or overwhelmed in battle. He also finds himself slipping down into the darkness in other ways, having mostly set aside his once-exclusive focus on the skills of the Nanite Adept in favor of the occult knowledge of the Necromantic Acolytes. Still, he does the best he can, muddling his way through life. He is very intelligent, but cynical. He is prone to alternating periods of intense guilt feelings and the amoral freedom of an apex predator. He was a male before P-Day, but became neuter when first infected and remains so most of the time except for unusual incidents and the occasional use of his Nanite Adept abilities to shift himself into a male (or, much more rarely, a masculine herm.)

Acetyl/Disclaimer

2016-09-19T01:55:02Z

Acetyl: Created page with "Some of what's in this would be potentially knowable to some PCs, especially Prometheans or Zephyr employees old enough to have been around for P-Day and its immediate afterma..."

Some of what's in this would be potentially knowable to some PCs, especially Prometheans or Zephyr employees old enough to have been around for P-Day and its immediate aftermath. But most of it is OOC info only, meant to tell you as a player about my character and help come up with stories and so on. A lot of what's on here is known only to Acetyl (and most likely his superiors at Zephyr, who probably keep a close eye on this eccentric agent... )

Acetyl/Gallery

2016-09-19T01:53:06Z

Acetyl: Blanked the page

Acetyl/Stereotypes

2016-09-19T01:50:48Z

Acetyl:

Prometheans: I still owe them some gratitude for helping me while I was still feral. But they've never forgiven me for joining Zephyr, and I've never forgiven them for begrudging me my free choice. I have friends among them still - but when I get attacked by another agent while on patrol, it's almost always a Promethean.

Zephyr: What can I say? I am a man of learning. I like books, and living inside. (Well... most of the time.) Above all, I value learning. Knowledge. Understanding. Hence, I'm a Zephyr man. But that doesn't make me a fool. It's a business, not a charity or a government. Besides, there's a certain purity to their mercantile ways. All in the name of science... and money. To fund more science, of course. Wink.

RSX: More power to them. I don't miss the bad old you ess of aye, but if other people want to rebuild what's dead and gone, who am I to tell them not to? It's their freedom. They can surrender it if they want. I can't say I don't envy their psychological inoculations, though.

Survivors: I can understand that. I can even envy it. I work best alone most of the time myself. But I get my ass kicked too often to want to give up my access to Zephyr's triage bay.