[quote=@Circ]
[b]Earth-F67X: Earth’s Extraterrestrial Embassy[/b]

[i]“Oh, how thoughtless,”[/i] the frumpy Fruggalo proclaimed and extended one of her four stumpy arms in an awkward salutation, [i]“I’m Fran, Fran Lyfpifgrosq. A pleasure, I’m sure. And you’re Lieutenant Zourn Vátne, I know, I’ve looked at your file. Sad, sad, sad,”[/i] she trailed off and gazed absently at the slow-turning ceiling fan.

[...]

[color=fff200][i]“Rescue? I’d rather eat hot crow!”[/i][/color] Fed up, the scraggly man bit through the entire core of the apple, tossing the remains wayside, hitting a scientist in the back of the head, causing a large domino effect of accidents weaving throughout the embassy. Taking no responsibility whatsoever, Oswald whipped out a humongous phone from seemingly nowhere and angrily tumb-wrestled the keypad of what appeared closer to a brick than any modern communication device. Utilizing the world’s most popular odd-job app, TaskTopia, he posted a rescue job for his Ex-Wife that hardly qualified as due diligence. [color=fff200][i]“Hopefully she stays dead this time”[/i][/color] he crankily mumbled under his breath.

[...]

[color=fff200][i]“Today’s gotten more complex. Knowing her, she’s only here to raise hell about the influx of migrants we keep stuffing into the slums of Allure and other countries using her city as their personal prisoner dump-off. They’re still on a short leash with the government and deservedly so. I’ve been hearing that a lot of earthlings have been venturing to some rigged Casino and either coming back filthy rich or never to be seen again—weird stuff. Either way, don’t tell her I’m in the building. If she makes too much fuss, just give her a magical artifact or something.”[/i][/color]

Zuorn probably had little knowledge of who Margaret Iedeeren was but if the TV remained on, she would probably learn quite a bit just how polarizing of a figure she was.
[/quote]

		Zuorn's eyes flitted to the extended arm, and she returned the salute. Like a proper game of telephone, her salutation was an evolution of the one Fran had attempted: lanky arm held straight at a 45 degree angle, palm facing down. Surely a patriotic salute of the people of Earth, used during anthems or other ceremonious events. Surely nothing tainted by horrific past events.

	After the comment on how "sad, sad, sad" the contents of her file were, Fran averted her eyes to a fan which was not connected to any sort of ventilation system whose air it might circulate into the room, but Zuorn brushed aside the curiosity of its apparent (in)effectiveness -- Fran's action looked like a show of boredom. Had she been sarcastic, [i]mocking[/i], about her file? She couldn't tell. She almost wanted to stop and ask about it... but it would just be easier to catch a glimpse of the answer through her "third eye". The problem was sensory overload.

	Zuorn was used to taking risks. Or, had been, until that "sad, sad, sad" day. But this was different. It was herself she was risking. And the risk was neither high nor permanent in consequence. So, bracing herself, she peeled open her-

[b]Another glimpse into heavenhellheavenhellheavenhell the entire planet, the gravity of the situations [s]every situation[/s] she's teeming, thick clay, slow, stumbling shuffling through the painpleasurep a i n p l e a s u r e p  a  i  n  p  l  e  a  s  u  r  e . . .[/b] a less cacophonous thrumming death pain distrust paranoia joy birth sadness dreaming boredom-
Like a drug, less powerful the first time, could she handle it, she could handle it, could she handle it?
Time traveled half a minute to the future, where was she now?
Clutched her head tighter.
Ignore who?
Molasses slowed down the spin towards Fran slowed down the spin towards the monitor. The source of so much anger. Near-deathly conflict. They must [b]hate[/b] eachother. Federation and rebellion, but which side was which? They all looked the same. Seas of humanity, samey humanity.
Fran's assurance is false. Whispers, but she doesn't try to listen to the words, she tries to listen for the feelings, tries to parse them from background noise that sounds like explosions. Tweezers to remove Ozwall's from the hide of humanity.
Anger. Worst outcome: status quo. Loss of care [b]joy relief hell anger despair panic curiosity[/b] disgust? disappointment, even worse outcome [b]pain amusement pity sorrow crap[/b] hit by a curveball? [b]fan[color=9e0b0f]crap[/color]stic punched excitement[/b] apocalypse problem problem problem [b]problem [i]problem [s]problem[/s] [s]PROBLEM[/s][/i][/b]

	She retreated into her shell. She couldn't take any more. A pressure had set in [b]frogs boiling in water[/b] and where she had been clutching her head, a headache reared its ugly head [b]rear-guard collapsed[/b] she sought the nearest seat [color=1b1464]killed them[/color] and slumped in it [b][color=1b1464]killed them[/color][/b].

	She looked up at the TV, wondering more about the humans warring eachother with their signs and their cries. What she found instead was that it had shifted to view one human woman in particular.