~Character Chat~

((Okay, cool ))

Izzy: Hey, you used internet lingo! Well, I guess that makes sense, since...you said you worship the internet? (to Riddle) I'm aware of what trees are, but thank you. Anyway, it looks like you'll just have to try all three. I'll contact the heads and get you some escorts, and--wait a minute.

(to Peter) I'm hereby scrapping your team's last mission and giving you a new one! The last one turned out to be too dangerous anyway. Your new objective is to escort these two to their home plane and research it while you're there. I'm printing out a plot of the waypoints you'll need to travel through to get to the first one; I'm sure you can figure out the remaining two. Their numbers are included on the plot. (to T.Mor and Riddle) Can you describe the clothes that average people on your plane wear?

T.Mor: Worship...yeah. That sounds about right. Although finding a coding book that actually works these days is absolute murder. The government is holding them too...
Riddle: (Has never worried about coding books and never will.) Guards wear black with blank white facemasks and are typically armed to the teeth. (Pauses) Which anatomically makes no sense of course...but hey.
T.Mor: Outside of the government people tend to wear whatever they can get their hands on...Until recently the trend was the duct tape trench coat...Unless you're loaded and can afford actual clothes of your choice...like some people. (Looks at Riddle. who aside from the ancient combat boots, is reasonably dressed...somewhat like a Tim Burton character.)
Riddle: What? Just because I look nice?
T.Mor: Nice is an interesting word to use.
Riddle: (Ignores the jibe.) Everyone seems to own an umbrella though. Somehow.

((By the way, what is T.Mor wearing?))

Izzy: The team needs to blend in, so what would you suggest they wear? Since they'll be traveling with you, they need to wear something that won't contrast your own outfits.

(T.Mor is in a black turtleneck, Black skinny jeans, and combat boots. He left his mask at home.)
Riddle: Things that look old. With holes and patches made of wierd things. Or, If you're over 17 you can take the August Nimbly route and wear whatever you roll out of the warehouse in. It's kinda REALLY noticeable though.
T.Mor: It seriously doesn't matter ouside that...unless you can get something cool looking and home-made out of packing material. All of our stores are stocked by the internet, which is increasingly controlled by the government so...yeah. If you look too new you'll probably be thrown in a back alley and robbed. If you guys want to be guards...although- I have a hard time imagining why you'd want to...just go with the all black thing, I have extra masks at my house. And wear shoes that you can walk in. Through anything.
Riddle: (Agrees) ANYTHING.
T.Mor: Steel toed boots are best.
Riddle: Lead lined ones are even better.

Izzy: It could be useful for them to dress as guards. Would they have an easier time getting around that way?
Nike: If what you're wearing is the guard outfit, it wouldn't be too different than how we dress for stealth missions anyway. The all-black, that is.

T.Mor: Yep. Guard uniform. Except the soulless, faceless white mask is in my house, scaring my sister. It'll get you everywhere except onto the monorail for free.
Riddle: and you could get punished for going 'round without it.(To T.Mor. Inside joke.) Also bring a weapon. Any weapon.
T.Mor: Sadly- this is the truth. Just keep it compact. Knives are good...Guns are efficient...(hates himself for knowing that.)
Riddle: But you have to procure MOAR DAKKA after you use them.

Izzy: YOU USED A TROPE WOOOOOORD! (spazzing with glee) Oh my Gaaaawd! I haven't heard anyone use tropes around here since I left home! OOH! You know, they have TV Tropes here? Some bonders from that plane brought it to this one! (She's very excited. You'll have to excuse her when she gets like this; she's a light type, after all. Light/wind, to be exact. She coughs now, trying to contain herself.) Alright, they'll dress as guards.
Peter: (to his team) You heard her. Usual stealth attire, then.
Izzy: And I'll put in a word to secure some guns for you. Do you need knives?
Peter: I still have mine.
Senet: Me too!
Sarah: I lost mine in the field.
Nike: I didn't.
Izzy: One knife. Be more careful next time!
Sarah: (embarrassed) Sorry.
Peter: Okay! Let's go, then. (They exit.)
Izzy: (She types a few things on her computer before addressing T.Mor and Riddle.) They'll be back soon. They're just going to suit up. Shouldn't be long.

Riddle: What? MOAR DAKKA? isn't that what it's always called?
T.Mor: I've also hear the word bullets occasionally...
Riddle:(To Izzy) You'd love Auda then...No- SInk Pump...It's less bad there but with the same atmosphere...Except with more trolls...And worse spelling...(Is unsure about this.)

Izzy: (frowning) Weren't you referring to the More Dakka Trope? ((Oh dear God it's a TV Tropes link! You were getting at that, right? 'Cause it completely made my day.)) Don't get me wrong, I'm not crazy about shooting people. I just like tropes. TV Tropes will ruin your life, though! Ah...huh?
(CRACK! CRACK! Two more women appear in the room separately in the usual blue and white light show. One, who looks to be in her mid-thirties, has leaves and twigs sticking out of her shoulder-length, brown hair. Blinking, she straigtens the crooked glasses that hide her blue eyes. She, like Izzy, wears a white coat, though this one has dirt stains on it. Under that, she has a brown sweater and tan, cargo pants. Slung over one shoulder is a huge backpack, like the kind someone would take for a camping trip.

The other woman appears to be about the same age. Her black hair hangs to her chin, framing her pointed features, and her hazel eyes look tired. She, unlike Izzy and the first woman, has no coat, and wears a navy, long-sleeve shirt and simple jeans. She also has a large backpack, though it isn't as big as the first woman's.

Izzy: (sourly) Karin! So glad you could make it. (less put-out) Nice to see you too, Elizabeth.
The brown-haired woman: (putting down her bag) Sorry about that. But hey, I think I came back in record time!
Izzy: (sniffs) That may be so, but it doesn't take back all the work I had to do for you while you were gone.
TB-HW: Come now, Izzy, don't we go through this every time? You know I can't help it.
Izzy: ...Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Oh, but where are my manners? Karin, Elizabeth, meet T.Mor and Riddle. They're a couple of Strays. Our team picked them up.
TB-HW (who has been introduced as Karin): They're back already? How'd the mission go?
Izzy: They were forced to engage and ended up scattering. It was actually Peter and Senet that brought the Strays in. Delayed 'em, so we started to fear the worst. I've set them on a new mission to bring the Strays home and document stuff about their plane. They're actually suiting up right now.
Karin: (Holding her backpack by one strap, she goes to sit at her desk. Elizabeth follows closely and sets her own backpack at her feet.) I hope I don't fall asleep again.
Izzy: (still sourly) Me too!

(Yes. I know it's a trope...I recently did a 6 day wiki walk...Riddle and T.Mor don't because it's part of their typical vocab. They throw around Internet jargon without realising it because their society is SO grounded in it. They know things more often by their trope, or through memes than regular vocab in some places. They just don't really know where it originated.) Riddle: I wasn't talking about the crapsack-y-ness of it...I was talking about the way people talk...(notices the newcomers.) Oh- Hi!
T.Mor: (Shakes everyone's hand.) Why do you not want to fall asleep?
Riddle: Because sleeping is a waste of time. (automatically.)
T.Mor: Not talking to you Riddle.
Riddle: oh. Nevermind then...

((Ah. That's pretty awesome ))

Karin: Well, I have narcolepsy and FLS. That's Flat-Lining Syndrome, a condition where the shape of your energy can turn into a flat line due to a certain trigger. Flat lines are used by bonders for shifting and projecting energy, but mainly shifting. Triggers for FLS are usually powerful emotions like anger or sadness. My trigger, however, is my narcolepsy. Somehow, they got tied together. We suspect that it has something to do with the lack of connection in my brain, but we're not really sure.
Izzy: Basically, every time she has a narcoleptic fit, she shifts. Could be anywhere, and it doesn't matter if she has a waypoint or not. That's why she has that bag. It has a bunch of survival gear to last her until she can find her way back here. It's also Elizabeth's job to grab her before she shifts to help her out wherever she ends up. Additionally, Karin always has gear for two in her bag, just in case she accidentally brings someone else along.
(The door opens again, and Peter and his team enter. They're now dressed in all black and wearing black combat boots, and each one has a gun. Sarah has combed her hair so it isn't so messy, and Nike has washed the dirt off her face.)
Peter: (He's holding a sheet of paper with numbers and locations on it. It's the one that Izzy said she'd print. He obtained it at the same place where they got the clothes and weapons.) Alright, we're ready to go. The first waypoint is back in the city. (to Karin and Elizabeth) Oh, hello.
Sarah: This'll be fun. We look like terrorists.
Senet: Eh, what can you do? Allons-y!
(They exit.)

T.Mor: (Waves good-bye to Karin, Izzy, and Elizabeth.) So, any Idea where we'll end up once we get there? I mean--I don't want us dropped off somewhere really sketchy where we could be arrested...
Riddle: T.Mor you worry too much. We'll be fine.(is confident.)
T.Mor: You'll be fine, you mean. If we end up in a warehouse...without masks? (Colour drains from his already pale face.)
Riddle: You are wound too tight. I can get us out of ANYTHING!(pause) As long as someone hands me a gun. (Smiles.)
T.Mor: No.(Things go down hill fast when Riddle is armed.) When we get there, we're headed straight for my house...my sister should be there along with August...(Is coming up with a plan. Is rather on edge.)

Peter: It says that the final waypoint ends up in an alleyway, though the information could be outdated. Just be prepared for anything.
Nike: Even so, you really don't have to worry too much. We're trained for combat, after all.
Sarah: Peter and I can prevent guns from firing, if it comes to that.
Senet: And being eenveeseeble always 'elps!

T.Mor: Good. That should be fine.
Riddle: Wait...you can be INVISIBLE? Show me!! (Amazed again.)

Senet: Not now. Eet's deeffeecult.

(Time lapse of epicness, in which they travel through waypoints to get to the destination. In one last blast of blue and white light, the torch is passed to Invisimort. It's your show now )

The six land in a ridiculously narrow alley- It would be comedically small if it weren't for the pressing greyness of the sky or the smell of fire that lingered ominously around.
Riddle: Guess they're still rioting then...(Factually.)
T.Mor: Yeah. Better avoid that mess...This way.(He turns out of the alley to a slightly wider street. Windows are boarded over and badly misspelled store signs litter the sides of buildings.) Ugh. Downtown then. Great. (Sarcastically.)
Riddle: So--Just go down Up Street. It SHOULD be clear.
T.Mor: (Considers this route.) Yeah. Yeah ok. That should work.

They lead through more narrow streets, and as they near the centre of the city things gradually become more upscale, and less on fire. The spelling on the storefronts is still nearly illegible and although there are less boarded windows, three of four are still cracked. Several white masked guards pass, noislessly, watching eerily from and adjoining street.
T.Mor: Oh crap. I've missed what- three days of work maybe?(noticing the guards as they dissolve back onto a side street.)
Riddle: Just keep going.

T.Mor turns suddenly then, seemingly into the wall. There's a faded red door with a boarded up mail slot. He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a key.
T.Mor:(to himself) Please don't have changed the locks...(Door falls open.) Oh thank ceiling cat. (gratefully.) ANA!! I'M HOME!

Ana appears from the top of the stairs. She's got T.Mor's pitch black hair, and looks as though she hasn't seen a good meal in a week. She probably hasn't.
Ana: WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? THREE DAYS! THREE WHOLE DAYS! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN DEAD! OR...OR I DUNNO...I mean--those riots...(is between rage and worry.)
T.Mor: I fell through a cupboard OK? So just don't even Talk about it now. I don't want to hear it. (forced calm.)
Ana: And who are all these people? (Looks at everyone. Lingers scathingly on Riddle.)
T.Mor: You remember Riddle...This is Peter, Senet, Sarah and Nike. They brought me back from...erm...a place with a brick.
Riddle: I should have brought it with me. I beat I could get it to be on fire like a peasant HERE in no time.(Regret.)
Ana: Why are they in MY house?
T.Mor: It's technically not your--
Ana: Am I suppoused to FEED these people? I mean it's bad enough you left that August n00b here.
T.Mor: No- It's fine..I'll manage. (Notices August's absence.) Where is August?
Ana: I don't know.(Preoccupied.) I mean- the roof is leaking and I ran out of tinned bread and He just got away from me.
Riddle: And you call ME irresponsible T.Mor?(Pointedly.)
T.Mor:(Cannot handle anymore of his sister right now.) Guys--Let's go upstairs. I'll get you masks...And maybe we'll come across August.(Hopes that they find him. The alternative is rather grim.)

T.Mor's room resembles a room full of crazy. there are pictures torn from old newspapers all over the walls, along with odd childish doodles and lolcats pictures...of all things. there's an old matress with handknitted bedding against the wall, and several buckets that are containing roof leaks. He has a clothes rack from a department store serving as his closet right now, and it's all one big mass of guard uniform. Several white masks dangle on one side of the rack.

T.Mor: Here.(Distributes masks.) Wear them whenever your not in the house. They scare the crap out of the peasantry, but hey--No one will even try to rob you.(Grimly.) Don't mind my sister...She's always like that. And has been since our parents died...
Riddle: (To Senet) See? See why strangling things with axes is the only option? SHE HATES ME. I don't even know why.
T.Mor: (smacks irritatedly on the arm, the bad arm. it falls anticlimactically from its socket.) You know why.
Riddle: (Picks up her limb.) Oh- So just because of that one time. THAT ONE TIME.
T.Mor: Yeah. Look- I don't want to talk about it. Can we just go find August?
Riddle: But he's so...UGH.(makes a face. Re-attaches arm, and finding a mostly empty roll of duct tape on the ground, uses that to re-attach more securely.)

((I lol'd at Ceiling Cat xD))

Sarah: WHAT THE HELL?!
(Nike merely has a look of shock and horror on her face.)
Peter: Oh yeah...Riddle's immortal. In a nutshell.
Sarah: (turning on him) Don't you think you should've mentioned something like that sooner?!
Peter: I was kinda hoping it wouldn't come up.
Sarah: I can't believe you!
Senet: Okay, okay, let's find zees August pehrson now!

Riddle: I love this. NO ONE reacted by trying to shoot me. (is smiling happily.)
T.Mor: (To Peter) Your lucky it didn't come up somewhere else, where freaking out would NOT have been the appropriate reaction. (Changing subject.) Riddle- Can you search the house just to make sure he's not somewhere stupid?
Riddle:(Goes just outside of T.Mor's room.) AUGUST NIMBLY GET DOWN HERE! WE JUST WANT TO KNOW IF YOU'VE BEEN ABDUCTED AND EATEN BY THE GOVERNMENT!!(Yells. Waits for a bit then re-enters the room.) Yeah, No. He's not here.
Ana: (From downstairs.) STOP YELLING!
T.Mor: (sort of expected Riddle to do that.) So...I guess We're going to the Compound...(unhappily.)
Riddle: Your day keeps getting better and better doesn't it?
T.Mor: Come on.(Doesn't acknowledge Riddle's observation. They go back downstairs passing straight through T.Mor's kitchen.)
Riddle: Hold on- wanna check something. (She pulls open the freezer of T.Mor's fridge, finds an old starbucks cup full of frozen blue stuff, and pulls it out happily. Drinks it like a smoothie.)YAY! This stuff!
T.Mor: (As though he's forgotten his manners.) I should feed you guys...Before we go...Just because I don't know when we'll get back...(Runs hastily around a bit and eventually gives everyone a piece of melba toast and a jello cup. He spreads the jello on the toast as though it's jelly.)

Peter: Uh, you don't have to do that for us. We can always just shoot and cook small animals.
Sarah: (dryly) Nothing like the taste of roasted squirrel.
Senet: We'd usually zjust trap zem, but we 'ave guns now!
Nike: We don't get them too often, but we've been trained to use them.

T.Mor: Good luck finding a small animal...I mean, unless sewer rats appeal to you.
Riddle: If you can find a bunny with a pancake on it's head, you could just eat the pancake...(Thoughtfully.) Although you kinda need to be in the wasteland to get one of them...(Chews on smoothie straw.)
T.Mor: I'd still recommend eating now...(consumes his toast rapidly.) But, hey. Whatever you prefer.
Riddle: Can we go? Because for someone who wants August back and not dead, we REALLY are wasting time.
T.Mor: Fine. Remember, masks on outside. (To Ana as he pulls on his mask.) See you later- Going to check in at work. I'll probably be back. Probably.
Ana: Take whats-her-face with you. I don't want her eating any more of the dinnerplates.(Irritatedly.)
T.Mor: Don't worry, she HAS to come along. (Goes back outside.)
Riddle: Erm. Guess we're going then. I'd eat the toast if I were you. (Follows T.Mor back outside.)

(They don't entirely feel right about taking food from these people--it's such a crapsack world, after all--but they eat it anyway. They put on the masks and follow T.Mor and Riddle.)
Sarah: These masks are waaaaay creepy.
Peter: Well, we're posing as guards, so we have to wear them. T.Mor, is there anything extra we need to know besides the dictator and the internet-worship? Anything all guards should know?

T.Mor: 1. When talking to the boss, don't mention his lack of face. Or your age. If he asks...Tell him you're three years older than you really are. Address him as Sir. 2. If you have a moral compass, turn it off now. Especially in the prison- Things can be rather...uhh...Bad.
Riddle: (Cough)Understatement(cough)
T.Mor: 3. The laws here are kind of...restrictive. If someone is doing something that makes too much sense it's probably illegal. 4. Do whatever you're told. Like WHATEVER you're told.
Riddle: Also, The internet is Serious Buisness.
(They've been leading through the city and have hit a town square of sorts. It's full of rioting peasantry, wielding protest signs made of whatever they could find. Several guards have been pushing the riot back off the front steps of the huge imposing fortress that the government calls home, and keeping them from setting fire to the place. T.Mor works around the edge of the riot and quietly slips into the building, bringing as little attention to the group as possible.)

Peter: Alright, good to know.
Sarah: There sure is a lot of fire around here.
Peter: Yeah. I hate to say it, but... Y'know, I just won't say it.
Senet: I'm pretty suhre I know what you mean.
Peter: Well...

Riddle: Yeah...but this is NOTHING compared to some of the flame wars that go on in the farther cities...(To Peter) What are you not going to say?
(They can stand and talk safely now, since they are inside the government building.)

Peter: Well, seeing as I'm a fire type...I kinda like having all this fire here. And having it already burning helps, since I don't have to make it myself. I fight with fire, so to me, there are a lot of weapons lying around. It's the same for Sarah; she can use fire, too.
Sarah: (quietly) ...Even though I prefer not to...