Sigil

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar & Keystone

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Location: Grimm Indiana (El Asilo/The Nuthouse!)
Skills: General Observation
Skills: General Observation, Security Procedures

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Caesar was very "on the warpath" as he made his way down the discolored and neglected stairwell. The illumination from his flashlight was steady enough, allowing for enough of a forward visual to navigate the twisty path downward without mishap. The light clipped to his associate's coat was also helpful, though he really wished that they had a viable power source running into the building. Naturally, wishing doesn't equal doing, so flashlights and firearms it was. The concept of stealth was understandably abandoned; if the attempt of force on the door wasn't enough to alert anyone and everyone who was in the building, friend or foe, then the heavy caliber firearm discharge in the hallway sure as hell was.

Let it never be said that the day wasn't full of surprises. Not just the mists, or the sudden bent of insanity that had him screaming off into an abandoned Asylum in search of his dead daughter, nor even the sudden appearance of people he hadn't seen in a while magically and very coincidentally appearing right in front of him so very far away from home. Now, the next piece of random oddness came from below - as he yelled PAPI'S HERE (a sure sign that was in fact present), he got a response he really wasn't expecting, someone essentially warning him to watch his step. Caesar wasn't sure if he recognized the voice or not, but one thing was for sure: This place had some kind of a drawing factor, maybe even supernatural in nature.

The two of them were actually a little surprised when Cecily rightly pointed out the name to go with the voice. Riley. It meant little to Keystone, but for Ceasar, it pointed out yet another Justice, CA resident was here.

Meanwhile, Keystone had switched fully into "work mode", keeping his eyes on sweeping lines of sight, checking any points of access to the stairwell as they came to and as they moved away from them. He made constant head counts as they moved along and took to note the small details. Further, he kept his steps light and flowing, one foot over the other and his back to the walls as he took the outside track, keeping his pistol at a lowered ready. He was not overly enthused at now keeping tabs on two more people in addition to his possibly unstable boss. Lucky for him, one was a cop and he had history with the other one, so one could handle himself and the other he didn't mind watching over so much. All the same, it altered the his priorities in regards to securing the area while they moved. It was a far cry from the life he used to lead, that was for sure.

Any misgivings or doubts Keystone had about the foolish quest to entertain whatever spot of crazy had ahold of El Jefe got dashed to the rocks the moment that he turned that last corner and saw the mother of his son dangling from stair railings over a place where rusted out metal stairs used to be. Agreeing with Cecily's comment about living in a comic book, Keystone mumbled in awe, "Beginnin'ta think you're right, I am." While he wasn't frozen on the spot, he was taking a second to process the fact that a dead woman he knew very, very well was hanging from the railing in serious trouble.

Caesar, on the other hand, was a lot more sure about the situation. He shrugged off the cordura security pack he set aside for Alicia, grabbed the railing, and said in a clear, commanding voice, "M'hija, papi esta aqui. Te estamos sacando de este lugar.₁ Okay?"

Translations

1 = M'hija, Papi is here. We're taking you out of this place.

Roll Request, Caesar

Caesar Gonzalez
Characters current location - Grimm, Indiana (The Asylum - Stairwell)
Characters attempted actions - Reaching out and helping Alicia up
Any and all skills being used - Not sure if one is appropriate. Advanced Fisticuffs, maybe?
Why each skill is being called - To lean out over the three missing steps and grab Alicia, either to steady or pull straight back up, one hand on the railing ad one out to snatch. If necessary, he will extend the pack for her to grab onto.
Desired location of the character - N/A

Roll Request, Keystone

J. Keystone
Characters current location - Grimm, Indiana (The Asylum - Stairwell)
Characters attempted actions - Help Caesar
Any and all skills being used - Body Conditioning, Athletics
Why each skill is being called - To grab Caesar, by a leg, belt, whatever, and act as an anchor point, hauling them both up if necessary.
Desired location of the character - N/A

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

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Vladimir Alexandrov

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Location: Gretna Green
Skills: Fal'shbort (Passive), Tretiy Glaz (Passive), English

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Conversations kept swirling around Vladimir of which he was sadly not a part. Ordinarily very happy to be involved in the vocal comings and goings of persons both friend and stranger, today seemed to be an odd sort of day. Even for someone such as himself, today was unique. It wasn't every day that you had to drag a corpse to holy ground for a cleansing while a swirly haze of unknown origin made an entire town a little crazy. But then again, his entire adventure in England started with an evening of oddities. Vlad knew about oddities. They had several such attractions at the Circus.

On the same note, whomever was tending the church in this quaint Scottish town probably had never seen a gathering of foreigners (and a horse) quite this eclectic gather within their walls. So this was a horizon-expanding event all around. Vlad was happy to be a part of an edifying experience. He had other priorities at the moment, but it was nice anyway. Some of those priorities were headed to and/or entering the church at that point in time, prompting Vlad to nudge his Tolstoy(!) a bit further out of the way to safely admit the others. After he maneuvered the noble beast back, Vlad took a sharp look out of the church doors. это отлично! Da, is excellent. However threads are coming together, are coming together! Ve make readying, da? Vhen Grand Duchess is here, she is making soul of fallen friend Ludvig purified. Ve..." he smiled a dangerous but gleeful smile, sliding two of his larger showpiece knives from his belt in an underhanded grip. He twirled them up between his fingers and then back down, both hands simultaneously, until they returned to their original position with the clear sound of steel slapping against calloused flesh. Vladimir then rolled his shoulders back, and craned his neck from side to side, eliciting a series of impressive join pops in the process. The smile still present, he continued, "Ve vill make sure she remains vithout interruption."

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Dr. Swamp

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Location: Shadowell Manor: Attic (Laboratory)
Skills: Intelligence
Hit Points: 2
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In that moment, several things happened in the room without the input or influence of the good Doctor. He regarded it objectively, with crossed arms and with an inquisitive look about his face. The again, he always did seem to have an inquisitive look in one form of another. It could be nothing. His big surprise of the evening (aside from getting shot) was seeing Amaranthine with her head in a bucket making the most interesting visceral noises. Really, it was magnificent the way her internals worked in full concert with one another, only to have the example of gastrointestinal gear-shifting waylaid by retching. But even in doing so, she demonstrated a superior mastery of her vocals. Some people couldn't pull it off quite as well as others. Swawmp carefully thanked the man for carrying his offer to the Lady of the Manor, and looked back to his impromptu lab assistant.

As help was sent for by the houseman, Quinton, Swamp found himself alone with the Chanteuse. It would not do for her to be in poor condition, not one bit. Perhaps, in his bag of tricks and esoteric ramblings, Swamp might have something more immediate to help out the young songbird in her hour of need. Naturally he would have to find out specifics of her ailment beforehand. Limping over to the woman, Swamp leaned over just a tad and spoke in the softer tone, "Ah, Amaranthine? If you would, perhaps I might be able to do something for you?" He leaned heavily upon his cane. The options at his disposal in the lab might not be the best ever, but the Doctor still might be able to find something to help out until Quinton returned.

🦄 The Paradoxical Emendation - Merged With T.S.

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Gilbert Summers

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Location: Babylon Fortress, Cairo, Egypt: October 6th, 1924
Skills: History, Military Tactics, Observation

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An odd, somewhat amused look came over Gilbert as the others talked amongst themselves and made their plans. He quirked an eyebrow at Bartholomew's idea of possessing someone. It wasn't bad, really. If his ability to do that functioned in the same manner as others' he had seen, it would give him an immense advantage in whatever time or place he found himself. The moral implications were considerable though. As well as what might happen if it failed. Diplomatically, he offered, "As a last resort, Bartholomew. Though it is good to count that among our assets. Let us wait and see what the Paradoxes may find for us through more mundane methods first." Otherwise, Gil would have readily turned himself into a nondescript local and disappeared into the crowds of Cairo. Setting an example, and so forth.

But that was secondary to his thought process at the moment. The amused look came from a memory, its origin rooted long ago. He placed a hand on a nearby segment of wall and spoke aloud, "It has been a long time, and you were in much better condition. It is good to be back." He then turned and addressed the Paradoxes. "In no particular order," he began with a casual smile, "As soon as we stepped into this timeline we contacted Nancy. She can feel a pull to our presence just as we can feel a pull to hers. She is in country albeit possibly a long way off, and she knows that we are here. As for next course of action, I could not say. We must take what we learn and try to apply it, of course. Granted, we are in uncharted territory, so far as the Destruere are concerned. Unless we learn something game changing, I would prefer to take the fight to them." He shrugged. It was within his nature to try for a military solution, but recent centuries had found a slightly more mellowed Gilbert who was highly open to processing information before applying a hammer to a problem. "Certainly, I believe that we should return to the site of the last loop. The supplies there will be invaluable, whatever our next move may be.

His grin intensified, "But to the present. While Peter and James are finding us clothing and supplies, I will be re-familiarizing myself with this fortress. The original owner invited me here, once upon a time." He gave a short laugh and continued, shaking his head, "She thought I was a demon, at first. A demon. I found that hilarious, but many others were already calling he that, I suppose she just wanted to make sure. My name is even mentioned in some religious texts to that effect. But that is a story for another time. The engineers of the time were the best in the world. This place is highly defensible if intact and has a network of tunnels and corridors that modern scholars have not found yet. Who knows what else might lay undiscovered here? I am going to uncover entrances to these tunnels, and whatever else I can find along the way. If they have not collapsed, our options will have increased." He turned and began to walk, speaking aloud, "Who is coming?"

Roll Request

Character current location: Babylon Fortress, Cairo, Egypt
Characters attempted actions: Uncovering hidden stuff - tunnels, anything else he remembered
Skills Used: Not sure what might be necessary. Acting off of knowledge picked up from last round
Why each skill is being called: N/A
Desired location of the character: N/A

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James Grady

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Location: Following Peter to Bazaar
Skills: Observation

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It was an interesting thing that James was doing, essentially acting as an incognito bodyguard for a more senior Paradox as they strolled through a city he'd never been to several decades before he was actually born. The thought occurred to him that he knew where almost all of his family was (that being the American Southeast) in this era, so if he happened to have some sort of illicit rendezvous in the meantime, no one could point at him and start singing the "I Am My Own Grandpa" song. So that was a stretch of a hypothetical comfort. Then he remembered that part of the tradeoff of being dead, or a Paradox anyway, was that he couldn't have kids. So no matter where he was, it was all good. Of course, not wanting to have a bonafide Joe Dirt moment, it was probably best to either tuck things away and think of baseball, or remain willfully ignorant of the situation as a whole.

It was about this time that James stopped and considered slapping himself. What the hell kind of a train of horrifying logic was this, that was leaping unbidden into his mind? Seriously, where was it coming from? He sighed. It had been a rough transition, especially when he shifted into a boar the first time. Not his definition of fun. Being exposed to many different facets of human life was a mind-opening experience, but just sometimes he had to sit back and take stock of just how much of a mind fuck dying, coming back with powers, and then being exposed to time travel with all of its implications was. Not to mention that his concepts of history, mythology, and religion took a serious beating because of the whole experience. He needed a vacation. This didn't count. No, he needed a vacation or a girlfriend. No! He needed to take a girlfriend on a vacation.

And no even still. He needed to keep his eyes peeled for trouble, for Peter's sake and for his own. His eyes were sharp, his senses keen, and he'd still seen nothing troublesome in the area. He kept up his vigil, occasionally leaning forward to Peter to ask a stupid question, such as, "Hey now, hey now... when we get them clothes, can I get me one o'them Arabian Nights getups, huh? Imma look all kickass in Egyptian cotton, yessir! Ain't a one of my ancestors picked that shit, no sirrie!" All the same, James continued to keep a watch on the surroundings. One couldn't be too careful where a Destruere had been sighted.

Roll Request

Character current location: Cairo, Egypt
Characters attempted actions: Keeping an eye out
Skills Used: Observation
Why each skill is being called: Bodyguard detail, also for stuff useful to the group
Desired location of the character: Following Peter, still

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

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Reginald Keystone

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Location: Athribis (Underground)
Skills: N/A

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Truth being what it was, Reginald was an authority. Granted, not the authority in charge of anything here, but the face value of his statement was accurate. Much had changed in Egypt, politically speaking, and while the Empire still held influence here they could not enforce laws except as it came to military affairs directly involving the Crown, or contractual investments by British citizens. Still, the Lord Major had bearing from a lifetime of military service and trotting about with the nobility. And being the seniormost officer in charge of his assigned garrison, his Fellowship's endeavor did proceed with military oversight, by his authority. So all in all, as the Lord Major wrapped his brain around the assertion had just made, he did not lie. Not an ounce. But if the local constabulary were brought into it, he might very well be detained and questioned by someone he knew. That didn't count for nothing.

What did, in his estimation, count for nothing was the colossal amount of stasis everyone seemed to be held under, within that moment. The ordinary passage of time, perhaps slowed down or halted altogether due to factors totally outside of his control, keeping them in the same spot regardless of desired course of action. "Well come long then, we mustn't dally," he said, turning back in the intended direction of the Fellowship's movement. "Fortune favors the bold, and so forth, you see," he added, partly as filler and partly because he wished to change the overall topic back to the matter at hand. This latest series of distractions was proving to annoy. Quieter, and in confidence of the group, he advised, "At least one person knows we are down here. I recommend we establish a rear guard, in the event of more guests. Volunteers?"

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Haring Reddish

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Location: Benha (Elite Deck, Thief's(?) Room)
Skills: N/A

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Meanwhile, the Corporal was off on a grand adventure of his own, festooned in frilly attire 'round a grand table set for a ladies' afternoon tea. The frolicking gaiety of it all was something not horribly out of place in a Gilbert and Sullivan production, as he began prancing about with the others in a grand musical number:

Three little maids from school are we
Pert as a school-girl well can be
Filled to the brim with girlish glee
Three little maids from school!

La, la la la la, la-la;
La, la la la la-la...

Naturally, he couldn't sing along with the solos. Such a thing would be horribly gauche, not at all like the duty-inspired responsibility of Corporal Haring Demetrius Reddish, no sir. To compensate, he did ramp it up with the series of LAs, so much so, that in fact that the first glimmers of potential consciousness from the man were peppered by him unsteadily murmuring them to the waking world. La, la la la la-laaaaaaa!

Three little maids who, all unwary
Come from a ladies' seminary
Freed from its genius tutelary —

Three little maids from school!

Three little maaaaaids from scho--!

The sudden awareness of reality jolted him to rapt alertness. Defying the generally accepted laws of physics, the Corporal snapped himself from the floor in the lavatory to a full and upright position, one hand holding his service revolver at the ready. Before his eyes were even completely open, the he had cocked the hammer back, ready to defend himself or those around him in the event that this was an intentional attack upon his person and not unintentionally self-inflicted. When his eyes did focus on his surroundings a quarter second later and he instinctively realized neither he nor the women in the stateroom were in immediate danger, his reflexive response as a member of the soldiery kicked in, despite himself.

"Reporting for duty, Lord MAJ ...wait. Some things were becoming clearer now. Not everything, as his instincts still had him set to repel a charge upon his trench from a dead sleep, something he probably wouldn't be able to shake without years of therapy. Nevertheless, he had the forethought to safely decock and holster his sidearm before continuing. Looking down at the hand that just formerly held Josephine's watch, Reddish got a mildly alarmed look on his face and exclaimed, "My word, Miss Clarke! I found it, but someone's off and copped your watch again! Damn the luck, if you'll forgive my language, Miss! ...and Lady!" He looked a touch embarrassed for a moment, assuring Vera, "Apologies m'Lady, for forgetting my propers in your presence. I shall find a way to appropriately discipline myself later, in the absence of the Lord Major's wisdom on such matters. But to the immediate; the watch is missing again!" He nodded vigorously, then immediately wished he hadn't. The screaming pain from him knocking himself silly reasserted itself, prompting him to clasp a hand to the back of his head.

He must not have fully recovered, as he took a steadying step to the side and mentioned aloud, "...and I've ruined the bloody finale, I did! We've got to move."

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Ash Holloway

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Location: Quarantine (Briefing -> Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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Ash looked up to Thana with a hair of confusion evident in his expression. What she had just told him seemed a little out of context for the sentiment he had put across, at least to his ears. The few words he spoke were about gratitude; past that note, they were about contributing to their community and the ways that those in charge felt they could, were they allowed to remain. Maybe it was his delivery. He was ever marked by his former occupation, tending to speak as a man with forward aptitude because it was generally had been required of him for everyone else's sake. The mention of promotion especially quirked a brow. What exactly was going on here that they were so nervous about? Perhaps he missed something in the subtext someplace. It would take a time to figure some of the nuances of this place and its people out, it seemed.

Panama began to lead the former Newnanites back into the Conference Room. Ash followed along behind Thana, giving the occasional glance down to her leg as if looking for something. Her recovery was remarkable. Most people would still be confined to a bed with a constant feed of medication, or nowadays just dead. Willpower and necessity made for medical rarities sometimes. Having something to live for did wonders that way, too.

Returning to the Conference Room, Ash didn't even consider looking around the room, nor speaking to anyone else. There was a lot of information briefed to them and it was a mammoth amount to process. The crisp and clear, factual, military method made it easier for him to swallow. The images and reports gave him an amount of closure as well. Still, a lot to process. He did have something that would help him process damn near anything thrown at him. It was a hand, extended toward him from a couch, inviting him to join the woman behind it. Ash accepted the invitation with a quiet smile. He didn't particularly feel like talking, either, just taking her hand and settling down beside Thana. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. Vaguely, he understood that there was something on the television nearby. Ash didn't care. He was looking into her eyes, oblivious to or uncaring of her scars, just taking her in. Ash had meant what he said before, when he saw her. He was home.

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Thalia Carmichael

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Location: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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Everybody else came filing back out. Thalia didn't know if she wanted to talk to someone to find out what was up, but as it turned out nobody wanted to volunteer in the first place. Beatrice brushed past like she didn't feel like speaking. Thalia could respect this. She could talk to Thana. They had a lot of catching up to do. No, that was also a bust, because she was soon cuddling on the couch with another person she might have spoken with, the Army Captain she had been training alongside. He had plenty of questions for the guy who somehow got four of the most stubborn she had known to do what he told them to do. At least in theory. But the bond between Navy and that guy was not something to challenge.

Everybody had somebody. Even the outcast kid was making eyes at the local girl, Checkmark. And the two old guys? Well ok, they were pretty inseparable from the get go. And now they had ballerina chick's baby boy to gawk at, or at least Wayne did. And lest we forget the two bald women who clung to one another. Thalia had half a mind to give a suggestive wink in their general direction and never let on which one she was aiming at, just to fuck with them. But nah, that's not who she was, unless she was really, really bored. And as far as women went, she had really only gone for two, ever. And she really wasn't looking to shop around, regardless of gender. She was already afraid that this kind of lifestyle might make her weak. The last thing she needed was another emotional attachment that could be exploited.

Instead, Thalia did what she had been doing best for almost the past week. While everyone else settled in with their perspective other halves and/or hetero lifemates, new friends, old friends, and people they were trying to score with, the one-armed angel went back to the area that had been using for exercise, hit the floor, and began pounding out knucklepoint pushups in rapid succession. If nothing else, she loved this shiny new metal arm for helping her get a fuller training regimen back.

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Hank Wright

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Location: Quarantine (Conference Room)
Skills: N/A

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"Hey, gang's back together! Look at that," chided Hank, watching the other two from his group make their way over to the couches and such near the television. He reflected on their meeting a few months back. Hank wasn't in the mood to take on others into their party of two, and dear sweet and fuzzy angels in heaven was History Channel here annoying as all get out, but when it came down to it, they were some fairly stand-up people. It was a rough start. Now that they were all on the same page about things, if not exactly the same paragraph, this might be the last chance for everyone to just sit back and enjoy a fine family film like "History of the World, Part One", before they settled into something more workaday in this big, inviting settlement and ignored each other like neighbors who forgot to return an errant lawnmower or who heard some marital spat the night before from across the street.

Instead, he focused his energies to making commentary about the movie, such as getting baby Jamie's attention and pointing at the screen, saying, "Alright listen up, ya little ankle-biter: That guy is Gregory Hines. He tap dances real good, right? And they only have him doing one dance in this entire move. That's just not using your assets, right there." Or even speaking along with parts of the movie, such as, "He is a eunuch. He is a eunuch. He is dead," before looking back to the kid and assuring him, "Aw, don't worry. You'll get that when you're a little older. Or have your pops explain it to you." He looked a little uncertain for a second, before attempting to shift the focus elsewhere. "Hey look! Movie!" he said, nodding and pointing at the TV.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Caesar & Keystone

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Location: Grimm Indiana (El Asilo/The Nuthouse!)
Skills: Pistols
Skills: Body Conditioning, Athletics, Stamina, Xiaolin Techniques

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It's funny how things worked out sometimes. Caesar hadn't expected to see either of these two in Grimm, Indiana, let alone together in the place that he had been, for lack of a better term, summoned toward. While confusion was a big part of it, the coincidence did serve to mentally reinforce the notion that something of importance was happening here. Apparently, something that involved his daughter and whatever secrets were floating about in this creepyass town. At the moment though, none of that mattered. He heard his daughter's voice telling him to find the stairs, and now swearing at him. Yup, that was his M'hija. He must be getting close; the sound seemed to echo in his actual ears as well.

Upon getting the information and go-ahead to make the door bend to their will, Caesar looked to his much larger, far more British associate, grunting and nodding in the direction of the offending portal to the stairwell. The response was spirited and immediate. Keystone also heard something, though it was uncertain exactly what it was. All he knew was that his possibly recently insane boss claimed to hear the voice of his dead daughter urging him to come here and find the stairs so far, they found stairs, and now there was a yell from behind a stuck door. He was now steadfast in the belief that something was happening, if not exactly the face value answer. He'd figure it out as things revealed themselves. For now, open the door.

The problem was, no matter how spirited and no matter how immediate the response was, Keystone was ever the Big Bad Wolf, doomed to blow ineffectively against the house of brick and mortar. He gave his best effort, leaning against it, really gripping hard and bearing down. He funneled his Chi. he grunted, strained, and tuned every muscle of his powerful form upon the comparatively frail-seeming door, but to no avail. It stood as a bulwark against mighty Keystone and his pecs of steel.

The big man had never been beaten by a mere door before. He recalled the time that he ripped one off its hinges and beat a man almost completely to death with a door tougher than this one. No, this made no sense. Of course this was an an old asylum. Even the doors were acting crazy He turned to Caesar with an alarmed, confused look on his face, and was promptly, albeit nonverbally, instructed to move to one side. The grizzled Mexican would not be denied his moment. There had to be a way to outflank the door, that evil portcullis that stood between him and his daughter. Caesar hadn't time to think. He needed to get down there. With a sneer upon his lips, Caesar raised his .45 handgun. Keystone gave a quick, "Shite. Plug your ears, then," to Cecily before his more senior partner fired a single round into the locking mechanism at a downward angle, then booted the damned thing open with a flurry of shrapnel. "PAPI'S HERE!" reverberated along the stairwell, and with smoking gun in hand Caesar stepped through.

Roll Request, Caesar

Caesar Gonzalez
Characters current location - Grimm, Indiana (The Asylum - Stairwell)
Characters attempted actions - Looking around and descending
Any and all skills being used - General Observation
Why each skill is being called - To take in the surroundings - note, has LED flashlight
Desired location of the character - Descending stairs

Roll Request, Keystone

J. Keystone
Characters current location - Grimm, Indiana (The Asylum - Stairwell)
Characters attempted actions - Covering asses, following Caesar
Any and all skills being used - General Observation, Security Procedures
Why each skill is being called - Being on lookout - note, has LED flashlight
Desired location of the character - Following Caesar

🦄 Soulless Regency - Merged With T.S.

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Vladimir Alexandrov

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Location: Gretna Green
Skills: Fal'shbort (Passive), Tretiy Glaz (Passive), English

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The comparative sense of wrongness and urgency in the air seemed to increase. There were screams in the distance, echoing the closer sense of foreboding if not exactly the ambient sounds nearby. The haze that now permeated everything around Vladimir was not especially helpful in this regard either, seeming only to magnify whatever pressing preternatural events were unfolding. Perhaps this all had some normal, mundane, rational explanation, and eventually cooler heads would prevail, but Vladimir knew the power of appearances. Smoke and mirrors were his stock and trade. The value of appearance and setting a mood was the difference between winning and losing a crowd; the mob could be fickle, even dangerous if influenced properly. The stage in Gretna Green was being set by unknown hands, perhaps Providence itself, for something potentially ugly, even if Soulless were not involved.

There was a more serious look to Vladimir's face as he hefted the body of the fallen German fellow. He gave the other, living German fellow a look, regarding him with some consideration as he introduced himself and mentioned that Ludwig had a living mentor, then began helping to clear a path for him to follow. "Truly? Is for good. Master Zimmer has pupil under care of Circus, must be given thought for. Vhen this is over, ve should find." His words were a little subdued, for a Bazhooli. Maybe it had something to do with him carrying a corpse, or the general attitude of the town around him. In truth, he was bracing for something to happen.

Vlad followed Virginia and Ny into the church; in turn being followed by his fine horse (who was given a command earlier to keep at his heels) ad immediately began looking for a place to set down the lifeless husk of Ludwig, wrapped in cloth and rope. "Perhaps, vill make vith the formal greetings in little bit of timings, da? For now, dark business of our being here must take center stage. Is for sad. I make intense introductioning." he confided. Okay, the living, the dead, and the horse were all upon holy ground. It was time to brace for whatever was to unfold. Vlad quietly set down the body and crossed his arms in front of them, surreptitiously keeping hands where he could get at his many sharp implements upon his noble personage.

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Dr. Swamp

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Location: Shadowell Manor: Attic (Laboratory)
Skills: Intelligence
Hit Points: 2
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A slight smile crossed Swamp's face when the houseman, Quinton, gave him leave to continue gathering what information he could from the remains of Lord Bardolf. That fact gave further confirmation to a suspicion that the Doctor had from earlier. He regarded the taller man with raised eyebrow, seeing him in a slightly different light. "Yes, yes of course." He looked back to the splayed open cadaver, the major organs arranged in bowls nearby. "Hmm, one moment."

Swamp limped back to the operating table. He arranged one or two of the bowls, mumbling all the while. "... appendix, heart, kidney one and kidney two, large intestine, liver, lungs one and two, spleen, stomach... should I check for...? Maybe. ...maybe." The astute observer might notice that he was putting the Lord's internals in alphabetical order, for whatever benefit it might have. "No, no. Immaterial to the present issue," he said, motioning in front of himself. After a couple of seconds, he realized that he was pantomiming writing something, as if the idea manifested in his hands before he spoke it. "Of course."

Swamp went to the rolling tray next to the table and used it to bear down on. From his belongings, he produced a writing implement and a notebook. Bold, sweeping script flowed onto the page, summarizing the postmortem examination in official wording, followed by a more plainly phrased cause of death, underlined, and signed:

Doctor Amscribblescribbleon, in interim Dr. Swamp

There was the slightest pause, looking at his signature. It was an understandable habit, putting one's signature down on an official medical document, or one that would have to suffice for the meantime to keep proper records. He did have to mark out the proper name, however, and replace it with his alias for the event, owing to secrecy. They would know in due time anyway, he surmised. Plus, in the event of his own absence later, be it misadventure or deliberate action of less ethical persons, there was evidence remaining of the true fate of the Lord of the Manor. "If I might have a co-signature of witness, Mr. Quinton? Perhaps you as well, Chanteuse? Given as you did assist, which I do dearly appreciate." Swamp showed Amaranthine the paper, then left it on the table and backed from it to allow access for both Quinton and the Chanteuse. He shuffled back around to the bowls, pausing over the opened and inspected heart. Giving the bowl a spin, he watched it go around and around, wobbling just a little from the not-quite-perfect circle in which it rotated. "This is truly an interesting turn of events, is it not? Especially considering the timing. Hmm."

The heart was still spinning on the table, slowing a little, showing the squishy details pointed out from before in a continuing turn. Swamp vocalized a thought that had been nagging him. "Sir? If it suits the will of the House; my diagnostic talents lay in areas other than just anatomy. With the approval of the resident Mechanician, might I be permitted to examine the motorized conveyance that fatally malfunctioned earlier this evening? I suspect something may be learned."

🦄 The Paradoxical Emendation - Merged With T.S.

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Gilbert Summers

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Location: Babylon Fortress, Cairo, Egypt
Skills: N/A

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It looked like plans were going on without Gilbert's input, which might actually be a good thing. He didn't disagree with the intended business at hand, though a good chunk of him wished that he could take a more active role in the endeavor. He had wanted to supply back at the Plantation before they had gone on this excursion, but the necessity of the moment saw him joining the rest of the group here in Egypt. These points and a couple unspoken concerns had Gil wishing he had something to occupy his mind, or at least his hands, for the time being. Linguistic skills aside, Peter was best equipped to deal with the here and now, or more accurately, this particular here and now, seeing as he was native to it. At this point, Gil figured that he'd be in England or the United States pursuing a teaching career to pass the lifetimes, under the name Hawkins. (He did like reading R. L. Stevenson.)

If he was not going to be of more proactive use outside of this place, perhaps he could be of some precautionary use inside of it. This place used to be a fortress a very, very long time ago. About around the time that he was kicking around in these parts, point of fact. The centuries did start to run together after a while. Maybe he needed to eat more fish. Brain food, right? Eh, well between is history and his proficiency as a warrior, perhaps he could throw together a decent enough game plan in case things got too hot here. Escape route, battle plan, fortification plan, or just good, old fashioned tactics, just in case. As for Sophia's question, Gil felt that the more steady and pragmatic of the Emendators remaining should field that one, stating flatly, "Gio, I shall leave that to you."

Roll Request

Character current location: Babylon Fortress, Cairo, Egypt
Characters attempted actions: Figuring stuff out
Skills Used: History, Military Tactics, Observation
Why each skill is being called: History - Anything that he can get about the Babylon Fortress that would be of use. Military Tactics - Form a workable plan based upon their surroundings and present resources in case of an attack. Observation - To try to notice anything useful or out of place.
Desired location of the character: N/A

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James Grady

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Location: Babylon Fortress, Cairo, Egypt -> Following Peter
Skills: N/A

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James was kidding about heaving a sack of laundry and acting like an extra in a theatrical presentation of "Song of the South", but it looked like fate had stepped in the moment that he opened his big mouth in an attempt to be funny. Well, big sack of crap to lug about (or not) aside, if they were to make it with their little ruse, James was going to have to play the role of the subordinate. Considering his personality was ordinarily a little larger than life, he might even be up for an Academy Award for the bullshit he was prepared to endure for his fellows, be they Emendators or Paradoxes. Then, there was the nagging thought that there was probably still a Big Nasty out there somewhere that apparently had a bent for offing people like him. If they somehow knew that the guy they ripped to shreds was right back in the same place, like a paradox of a Paradox, how badly would they be licking their chops this time? Somehow, the pair of knives he had on his person just didn't seem to be very useful.

Prior to exiting the fortress, James held out the bottle of tequila he still had with him to Andromeda, who had mentioned a drink before, saying, "Yuh huh, we try and be quick. I ain't partial to this field trip anyhow." He then turned to follow Peter, wherever he might wish to take him. James was careful to make sure that he didn't walk exactly next to him, trailing a little back. At least a half step, if Peter wished to speak with him, but sometimes more. It would not do extremely well for him to be viewed as an equal. Even in North Africa, that might raise questions that they didn't have time to address.

As Peter told his summary involving a group of people being spontaneously branded on a trip to a dig site, the only thing he could really think to add was, "That's funny. While back, that woulda sounded strange, too." He shrugged, "Weird how shit works out sometimes, huh?"

Roll Request

Character current location: Babylon Fortress, Cairo, Egypt
Characters attempted actions: Keeping an eye out
Skills Used: Observation
Why each skill is being called: To keep tabs on surroundings and try to spot anything off
Desired location of the character: Following Peter