~Character Chat~

T.Mor: BATTER? What is this batter of which you speak?

Sarah: It's like...made of flour and eggs and stuff...

Riddle: (Head tilt.) Eggs? What're those?
T.Mor: It's the first half of the word Exactly. Duh.
Riddle: Exactly doesn't go in pancakes....They're spawned by the bunny.
August: HOW is this helping anyone decide what we're doing next?
Riddle: Come on- you know you want to know what an egg is.
August: I already do!

Sarah: *forehead smack*
Peter: Well, for once, August is right. We really do need to decide what to do next.

August: T.Mor said you could get me home. Like back to earth...or however all this works. Is that true?
Riddle: Of course it's true. How do you think I got home from the place with a brick?
August: through an electrical closet.
Riddle: That could have done it, huh. (Agreeing in an odd way.)

Peter: Yes, we're getting you home. We'd do it now, but we need to be much farther from the Sybek. Once we're at a safe distance, we'll shift you out. Shifting is like sending up a flare, almost, so we need to be far enough away that they won't catch up to us...hopefully.
Nike: If all goes well, we'll be fine.
Sarah: If all doesn't, we die. Not you, us.

T.Mor: How much farther? I mean...Beyond SInk Pump...There's...nothing I guess. I dunno...It's not mapped.
Riddle: I think the whole place falls apart beyond SInk Pump...Like the fabric of reality...(coming up with this off the top of her head.)

Peter: (shrugging) Guess we'll find out what's out there. You don't have to come if you don't want to. Or have you considered joining the bonders? (to Riddle) I'm absolutely certain that the fabric of reality is quite intact.

T.Mor: The only thing waiting for me here is execution...so I mean- hey. Why not? It can only get better from here. Right?(seems to be reassuring himself too.)
Riddle: I think it's fraying a bit at the edges...I mean- all this neon is just...not right. It's awesome...but...it grates. IT'S NOT NATURAL.

Peter: (to Riddle) I assure you, if there were a problem with this plane, we could sense it. (to T.Mor) Yeah, it could only get better from here.

T.Mor:Then let's do this...
Riddle: If the pixellation decreases from here...I TOLD YOU SO.
August: Wait..So there are more planes? How will you get me back to the right one?
Riddle: Do you know how to type?
August: yeah.
Riddle: that's how.
August: What? Typing gets me back to the right plane?
Riddle: yes.

Peter: We'll take you back with us to our headquarters and let you access the database. From there, if your plane exists in our records, you can determine which one you come from. After that, an escort will bring you there.

August: Oh. OK. See Riddle? Why can't you make sense like that?
Riddle: (Was eating her still writhing dinner. Not paying any attention.) Sense like what?
August: nevermind.
T.Mor: So I guess, as soon as we get done here we should figure out how to catch a monorail to the end of the line...I am SICK of walking.

Sarah: Haha, I'm with you on that one.
Senet: Softy.

((Time lapse?))

(TO THE MONORAIL!!!)
(The station is just as neon as the rest of SInk Pump, and somewhat empty. There's an old pot bellied man in the ticket staton, looking sketchy.)
T.Mor: Crap... I'm broke.( Digging hands into pockets irritatedly.)
Riddle: (Holding the fingers from her pocket in front of T.Mor's face) I'm broke too!
T.Mor: Not that way...(to the man.) Hi. I'm interested in buying tickets...How much would 7- to the end of the line be?
Man: 200.(He has a gravelly voice.)
T.Mor: (Plaes even more than usual.) Ok...Erm. When will the next ride arrive?
Man: You have 4 hours.
T.Mor: (Walks back to the group.) we have about 4 hours to come up with 200 rectangles.
Riddle: You suck T.Mor.(More mad at the situation than T.Mor himself.)

Nike: And how will we come up with these...rectangles?
Sarah: There's always theft.
Peter: Shh!

T.Mor: Theft seems like the...Oh, how do I say it...uh. This is going to sound horrible. Theft seems to be the best option right now...Or we could try to sell Riddle's femur.
Riddle: NO WAY! NOT MY FEMUR! WHERE WOULD I GET ANOTHER?
T.Mor: Well then...Theft it is.( conclusively. however another problem has made itself apparent.) How should we go about doing this?

Peter: Well, we're Scouts, so it's not like being stealthy is hard for us. Still, not really sure how exactly to go about it.
Sarah: Do you know, Riddle?
Senet: Why ask 'ehr een pahrteeculahr?
Sarah: Out of any of us, she seems like she'd be the one to know...

Riddle: You just watch a place for a bit to know it's all empty and all...then crack a window and then you're in their base, stealin' their stuff. Basically. It's not hard. Although getting up to a third story without fire escapes and awesome floating power...that's gonna be tricky. (Most of the windows in SInk pump start around the 3rd story, as that's when all the neon starts to dissapate.) We could break in through the front...If there's a reception desk we're screwed though. BUT- If there's a call box...We need an apartment with a callbox guys.
T.Mor: Sounds like you've done this a lot...
Riddle: I AM THE EPITOME OF A STEALTHY THIEF! (Yelling. Totally not stealthy.) Of course I've done this a lot. Although it's easier when you're already on the inside.
T.Mor: Where should we go then?
Riddle: Eh....(Grabs map off random passerby. There's a brief trolling that goes on as a result of this. Riddle scares the dude off quickly and effectively.) Come on....(They end up infront of a long row of buildings, slightly less neon. There is a callbox next to one of the doors.) Ok. So, as we hit the buttons, its goingto come up that someone doesn't answer. That's cos they're not home. Then we remember that number and pose as delivery men for the next person who answers and sneak in that way, actually goung to the empty room.
T.Mor: Too bad we have nothing to deliver.
Riddle: Peter's a small malayasian boy who is coming to work on the pipes. (decided quickly.)
August: No he's not.
T.Mor: No- it's when the pipes in your house break you call the child labour. You're actually closer in age, but you still look too healthy.

Peter: Not to mention that I am neither small nor Malaysian... Really, I'm English and Scottish...

(Sorry I've been gone so long. End of quarter projects are coming at me from all directions.)
Riddle: That doesn't matter. No one here is actually Malaysian...It's just...Yeah. (Does not know how to explain that it's a turn of phrase.) So are you going to pretend to be the small pipe boy or not?
T.Mor: Just Hit the button. (At Riddle. She seems to be wasting time on trivial things.)
Riddle: (Rolls eyes.) Fine. (She starts hitting call buttons. She talks to an elderly woman, a frightening man, and some teenager who was trying to troll through the call box. then finally- silence.) Alright the preople in flat uhh...the fourth one, are out of town. (the numberiing system is illegible.) Come on, people below them! (She hits the next button.) Hi, People?
Dude at other end: Hello? (He's crackly.)
Riddle: Hi. uhm...I'm with the pipe maintence committee for maintaining pipes. and your pipes suck. They really do. We at the humble city of SInk Pump would like to offer complementary pipe fixing because they have the unique honour of sucking SO BAD.
Dude: Oh. Wow. Really? I mean-- I would have never known...Erm- I'll buzz you in. I'm on the 5th floor. Door on the left.
Riddle: OK!
(Every one goes into the apartment complex.)
Riddle: So, now, the pipe cleaner and someone T.Mor go and pretend to fix the pipes...and me and someone stealthy breakinto the floor above and steal their crap. OK? (Whispered exceitedly.)

((Sorry this took so long. I was super busy today. I went to the Museum of Fine Arts, actually I drew this off of a statue in the Art of the Americas section. The hair isn't finished, but meh. I'll do it later.))

Peter: Okay, okay, I'll go with T.Mor. But I'm not posing as a Malaysian. Team, go with Riddle.
The Other Three: (with varying levels of enthusiam) Right.

(Holy cow. That's gorgeous. Love the level of detail on her skirt.)

August: What should I do?
Riddle: Try not to get arrested for loitering.
August: I'm not coming along?
Riddle: NO.
August: Fine. Should have expected that...(Sits down in the reception area.)
(Everyone else hops into the elevator and rides to their corresponding floors. T.Mor and Peter leave at the 5th floor. Everyine else gets off at level 6.)
Riddle: Ok- someone be awesome at lockpicking again- or else I'm just going to use my heavy boot.

((Thanks ))

Sarah: I've got this one. (She, much like Peter, extracts lockpicking tools from her boot and begins work.) This would be so much easier if I could just use earth...
Nike: Do you want the Sybek charging in here?
Sarah: Of course not! And just lemme focus, okay?
(After a few minutes, she successfully opens the door.)

(Riddle is surprisingly stealthy entering the room. She rifles around expertly, putting everything back after she moves it. She is going through a drawer when she encounters a wallet.)
Riddle: SCORE!(loud whisper. She counts the cash.) Ok. So we're still over 200 short...erm- Everyone look for valuable things! But don't ransack anything or we might get in trouble.