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Angela	LobCorpLand was a themepark that used to be a symbol of the successes and gifts of L Corp to the people of District 12, a celebration really of near unlimited enviromentally health cheap power. Rebuilt shortly after the fall of Laryngos Corp (that used to call this place Steamland), the Feathers of the Nest lulled themselves into believing it would all last forever and jumped into the kind and simple dream offered to them. Of course, the truth was that even under this fantasy was another LobCorp power station that took advantage of the emotional ups and downs of the themepark's visitors to help produce its Enkephalin and with its own monsters--Abnormalities--lurking within. The last time Elites visited, that very power facility had to be shut down due to the Abnormalities escaping their cells and to most of the agents therein being killed or subsumed by them. The surviving agents were hastily transfered to the main facility shortly after. But now, an open call to Elites has been made by Lobcorp's overarching security and training network. Calling herself 'Manual' she was acting on behalf of a former researcher of L Corp named Hohenheim. That Hohenheim was involved in an attack on Firefly Dam in a desperate attempt to acquire Enkephalin for himself, an attack that he was partially successful in--but words from The Watch and Father Berislav made him openly question his and his team's tactics and engagement with the 'Outsiders' that have involved themselves with The City. White has had a bit more forewarning that something was up at LobCorpLand thanks to Angela asking her to check on the situation and has sent her little spider clones over to investigate. They were able to investigate the whole of the park except for the power facility itself due to the security doors being locked up and, of course, the general danger of opening that up without Elite backup. There's numerous shut down restaurants and stores, in the latter case most of the food that has been left behind has rotted by now and most of the power is shut down too, though there's still some sputtering lights and rides on autopilot. SPOOKYTOWN is even more SPOOKY now--the Bloodfiend Manor has been shut down but without the flashy lights it's less Halloween and more unnerving in vibe. SMOKEBERG is completely shut down, the SMOKE WAR BLAST-O-RAMA is completely inactive. BIG BIRD'S FLIGHT is still haltingly rising up and down but occassionally just stops in midair, precariously. But that might not be the most interesting thing she's seen through her minions. Most of the animatronics are shut down, and there's no employees she can find, but there are occassionally a brief glimpse of someone wandering around in dirty mascot costume, vanishing behind corners shortly after being spotted--or an animatronic in a suddenly different position when one's eyes aren't directly on it. There's something else going on here besides what Hohenheim and Manual have said, though whether they KNOW about it--is unknown. There is no car to take anyone to LobCorpLand this time though you can provide your own transport, dodging Syndicate checkpoints and the like. Hohenheim isn't in a position to give the VIP treatment that Lobcorp itself could provide. But he still intends to meet you in the parking lot, now considerably more empty of cars. There's not even a bunch of dead bodies around! The ticket stands have been abandoned and at least from out here, there don't seem to be any Lobcorp agents or employees milling around.
Angela	Except for the bus that slowly approaches the Elites when they arrive. A voice, stilted and stiff in the way that those who have talked to Angela might remember, speaks up--seemingly from the bus itself. "There you are. This is Manual." The bus says. "Please enter Manual." The bus's doors open with a pffsshht. The bus's horn also honks twice in quick succession. "Please stop phrasing things that way." Hohenheim, a beanpole creep with blue hair pokes his head out from the doors. He is wearing a black suit and slacks with a blue tie and a long blue coat--EGO Gear--with nails sticking out from its shoulders and crackling with electricity. He has an exhausted dull expression on his face and dull grey eyes. He isn't cleanshaven either, he's got plenty of stubble. "Don't worry, the bus is perfectly safe. Manual is handling transport." "Get in the Manual Bus." Manual insists. "Hahhh...." Hohenheim sighs. "Just ... we can discuss the situation on the way... Please." The bus itself in question is pretty normal looking. A video screen has been set up on one end of the bus, where a digital woman that looks like Angela back when she still worked at Lobcorp, albeit more stylized with occasional visual glitching. There's plenty of chairs, though no seatbelts, and Alyssa--is seated in the driver's seat, not presently wearing her EGO gear. Once everybody is piled in, the doors shut and the bus starts moving all on its own despite Alyssa's position in the driver's seat. Hohenheim remains standing. "So far as far as I can tell, all the Abnormalities are still stuck in the facility proper but the active security systems are down." Hohenheim says. "So the job should be simple in concept, difficult in execution. Our job will be to take down any Abnormalities we can and transport their eggs to the bus so we can move them to a more secure facility." Alyssa adds, "As far as we could tell, there's no employees or civilians active here but we are only two people and a Manual disconnected from the facility so it is hard for us to say one way or another. If they are around, they might be avoiding us." The car moves through a gate--already forced open--as it moves around to the back of the park. Like most theme parks, the 'back' of the park is considerably less glitzy than the visitor-facing side. Rather than cobblestone, it's paved concrete and there's lingering trash across the ground, plenty of smudged out cigarette butts, dumpsters--it's a bit of a tight fit moving the bus around through there. Signs point out bathrooms and changing rooms and exits leading into the park. "The chief dangers should be the Abnormalities themselves but some lingering security systems may be active as well..." Hohenheim continues. "If you've any questions, now's the time to ask them."
Aika Rosewater	Attempt one at integrating City vibes ended at a circus with a vampire and a patronizing lion. Not a good start! Thankfully it also ended with lives saved, so, on the whole, positive entry in the journal.     Time for take two.     Aaaand it's a theme park.     "Oh my god really?" Aika groans, having not put two and two together about how literal it was. "I swear if there's a lion here too--" Empty bluster, she won't do anything about it, but she'll want to!     ARRIVAL hadn't been a problem; most people don't bother a stray cat, let alone one that's being careful to avoid busy street corners and checkpoints. Once at the parking lot, she'd popped back into human (plus ears and tail) form, suit and all, adjusting her tie while patiently waiting for others to arrive. "Please enter Manual."     "... that a talking bus?"     Well alright then. She plops down onto one of the seats, putting a grin on. "Road trip!" It'll be short, but she's always wanted to go on one. "Our job will be to take down any Abnormalities we can and transport their eggs to the bus so we can move them to a more secure facility."     "Do we have any data on the kinds of Abnormalities? What we should expect and watch out for, from the getgo?"
Rita Ma	Rita arrives tidily. Roof-hopping, jogging at comfortable highway speeds, and turning invisible when she needs to (remembering not to bioluminescence-erase her shadow like normal, for Tamiel's convenience!) can put her just about anywhere with a minimum of fuss. Even her refusal to all-fours sprint, self-consciously, when Tamiel might be watching doesn't complicate things.      Arrival's not the issue, though.      "There you are. This is Manual."      She stiffens up, eyes widening for just a second. "That's...?" Rita murmurs to herself, craning her neck to peek through the bus's windows and at the woman on the screen.      It sort of makes sense. Angela was probably based off of some kind of standard appearance for Lobotomy Corporation AIs. Rita mentally talks herself through the explanation, breathes out, shakes her head, and manages to board the bus.      But she's still frowning poutily as she settles in her seat. "Why did she have to look like that..." Siiigh. She looks out the window, face squished into her hand.      On the ride over:      "If you've any questions, now's the time to ask them."      "Thank you. Um... do you need the Abnormalities to get Enkephalin from, or are you just hoping they won't be a danger to anyone?" That matters a good deal to her priorities.      "And, I'm sorry, but I wasn't told very much about what you want. I mean, more broadly. It seems like you've made a little organization out of what's left of Lobotomy Corporation, but... why?"
White	White's inspection of the facility-slash-themepark had been fruitful, more or less. She thought more than once about throwing a few of her clones at the weird animatronic just to see if she could sus out its threat level, but with how few and brief the sightings were, it just ended up too hard to get her pieces arranged properly. Today, the preparatory phase is over, and it's time to get to work; when the first of the other Elites arrive, she announces herself by stepping down from whatever building she'd taken a high vantage atop! She walks downward through the air in steep dropping hop-steps several feet down apiece, her boots catching on a series of translucent platforms that fade in her wake. Her steps are hard enough that the faint sound of crunching glass at a leisurely pace will warn anyone who's not already aware of her before she actually drops down to the ground amongst the group in the parking lot. She's *trying* to avoid spooking people by doing it this way instead of just... Appearing beside them, but results may vary.      White can't help but feel a little out of place, given the group. She keeps to her politeness and greets those she hasn't seen in a while, like Rita, Veronica or Berislav with neat little bows. She doesn't know Aika, and doesn't want to interrupt her while she's talking, so at least at first the most Aika gets is a small nod if they make loose eye contact. Tamiel will be safe from scrutiny within the shadows until she reveals herself, but once she does... White might have to feel bad about their last meeting! It wasn't exactly great for Tamiel.      Manual's introduction as the 'Manual bus' seems to have White briefly frozen near the door, though. Hearing an Angela-like voice being... Well, this kind of a goofball is disorienting, to put it one way. Hohenheim comments on the phrasing so White doesn't have to consider it any longer, and she steps into the bus without a word until she's seated (though she does gently wave at Alyssa on the way by), drifting toward the back row against one of the windows. Only then once she's comfortable (enough) does she turn her lid-shut gaze onto the screen like she's making eye contact, despite that not being the case for two different reasons. "Hello... Miss Manual."      Hohenheim's briefing is simple enough, but it's clear her own preparations are the bulk of the available information. She doesn't want to *say* all of what she's learned, so instead she reaches out a hand to construct an illusory 3D map of what she's scouted of the park. It's plain at first, but she gradually adds little details like where the power is faltering and where it's out completely, and then adds 'pins' where the strangely evasive animatronic figure was sighted around the park while her agents were scouting. She does this wordlessly, but since she's making little icons like lightbulbs (broken, half lit, fully lit) for the power, or little images of the things she's indicating, it gradually becomes a more useful reference as the others talk. Hopefully, without interrupting them! She can't keep it as-is forever though, so once she's done adding as much detail as possible she very softly notes to whoever's closest to her seat, "Take... A picture..?"      When Hohenheim prompts for questions, White takes a silent, slow breath and gathers her willpower, before firmly pointing at the little image-recreation-pins on her map of the wandering animatronic. "Know... Anything?" It was outside of the facility proper, so that means it's an exception, and that means she has to take exception with the lack of information about it of course!
Veronica	Veronica is a little put off by the front end of LobCorpLand. "This place looks macabre," she remarks to any Elite who's there when she arrives. "Wasn't able to visit this sort of place before the Dark Days, and I'm sure the vibes were off even then, but this... ugh." She knows well enough that anyplace a Wing bothers prettying up has its share of skeletons, just like the places that get swept under the rug.     On noticing White, she walks over to make an introduction. "Don't know if we've been properly introduced. I'm Veronica." A pause while she decides what more to say. "One of the Father's people." She idly stretches her concrete left arm with a drawn-out grinding sound.     Curiously, White's scan introduces the young woman before her as BAKER & SEVENTH AKA Veronica, listing the title of her EGO first. Although technically with no more 'hit points' herself than most other humans, several of her major abilities are self-reinforcing defensive 'buffs', currently active at substantially less than full power.     The capablities of her EGO that she demonstrated in the London 'Regulus incident' are also listed - electrical and physical weaponry, matter generation and re-generation, and so forth. At the bottom of the skill list is a few items that suggest a practical medical background, Anatomical Knowledge and Drug Recognition and a negative Squeamishness rating.     When Hohenheim makes his appearance Veronica hmmphs. Wasn't long ago that she was trying to pound this guy's people into the sidewalk, now they're working together. Well, Hibiki and Tamiel secured most of the stolen Enkephalin, and some kind of deal's been worked out with Father Berislav at this point.     In the bus, Veronica piggybacks off Rita's questions. "These things, why not just destroy the 'eggs'? You need 'em for something? I thought - from what I heard, at least - they're not the same 'stuff' as what you or I have, or as those Distortions are made of. Isn't the infrastructure for turning them into Enkephalin all kaput or stolen by now?"
Tamiel Luxis	Tamiel had been on her tip-toes, cleaning the windows in the Faded Print, when the alert came in. She had never been in contact with LobCorpland--never became familiar with Lobcorp in general--But she HAD met Honenheim, thwarting his attempts at Firefly Dam. And most important of all her qualifications, Tamiel was Around.     She'd met up with Rita, somewhere along the way, and took the easy--and more descrete!--way through the town, shadowing Rita, cozily settling in, and leaving her all the more time and space to focus on spreading out her own eyes.     The animatronics weren't the only dark things creeping through the park--her shadows, two-dimensional, darting between dark space and dark space, eyes and ears in the shade.     It's not until the finally meet the bus that Rita's shadow shows signs of life--as Tamiel pushing herself up out of the ground, dripping black into the ground, even as it twirled fluidly around her into a black outfit. "Honenheim." Tamiel says, stiff, for her own reasons. She wasn't familiar enough with Angela to immediately draw the connection, but the last time she and the blue-haired little genius had met...     "It seems like you've made a little organization out of what's left of Lobotomy Corporation, but... why?"     "They said they wanted to start a small business," Tamiel shared, leaning against the side of the bus, arms crossed, trying for a glower but coming across mostly sulky.
White	White acknowledges Veronica's introduction with a small nod, taking a moment to realize (or really, just assume) that the 'Father' must be Berislav. Who... White's only really spoken to once, still. Still good to know. "We didn't... Talk... Back then." She doesn't seem concerned about meeting what looks like an offer to handshake though; she can give the concrete arm a good little wobble without much trouble. "White." She's going to have to remember not to call Veronica 'Miss Baker' on reflex...      Tamiel revealing herself from Rita's shadow immediately has White turning her head for a better look, but it takes little time for her to recognize the angel. For whatever reason, after a moment of stillness she seems to decide the best choice is to turn away again and pretend she hadn't noticed Tamiel at all. Maybe it's a little like handling a wild animal? If you just don't look them in the eyes they won't feel threatened? Maybe that's kind of rude actually. Too late to change her mind now, though.
Angela	''... that a talking bus?'' "Manual is Manual." but Manual doesn't protest further because Aika enters the bus, just as she was demanding. ''Why did she have to look like that...'' "Manual's visual appearance was designed to be attractive but firm for the purposes of aiding in facility management and providing effective tutorials in facility operation and conduct. As Chief Researcher Hohenheim is the highest ranking survivor of Manual's facility, he presently has authority over Manual." ''Do you need the Abnormalities to get Enkephalin from, or are you just hoping they won't be a danger to anyone.'' "My goal is to prevent the Abnormalities from harming anyone else first and foremost, but I am hoping to extract Enkephalin from the Abnormalities too--I do not have the sort of resources to build a power company out of it, but I am hoping to be able to develop EGO Gear from what we extract. This facility was abandoned before the fall of L Corp so there is bound to be Enkephalin just waiting in crates to be collected as well. If you're willing to assist us, you're welcome to keep whatever of that you find. The purpose of developing EGO Gear is to eventually provide ways for people to better protect themselves against Abnormalities and other City troubles as well as improve on their design." ''Why not just destroy the eggs?'' "We have no way to destroy them. Abnormalities in their egg-state are indestructible through any means I know of. Of course I've got the other reasons I mentioned. You can't always just muscle or beat your way through a problem. I don't intend to rebuild Lobotomy Corp, but I am a researcher. I still want to learn." He looks back over to Rita. "Some of that is just that I wouldn't get work anywhere else. People from a fallen Wing really struggle to get backing--they have to accept where they can get it from. But if I can establish myself and my team, maybe we've all got better options." He gives a nod to Tamiel. "The 'Mad Father' made a compelling argument about serving the people whose blood makes the machinery turn. So we are seeing if working with you and your people," He seems to mean 'Elites' here though maybe he also means the Yurodiviye Alliance or the Watch itself. He may be conflating some of these forces together out of distance from them. "-Is a viable method for doing so."
Angela	But Hohenheim is distracted, suddenly, by White's map. At first his gaze is as dull as ever as he observes the map, quirking his head curiously at some of the pins he doesn't recognize the purpose of before eventually his eyes settle on the mascot. "...The animatronics shouldn't be active anymore." Hohenheim says. "They barely even have AI, there's no reason for one to be out and about, they should have just remained in their initial locations or, more likely, deactivated. ... Maybe we'll be lucky and we won't run into them." He takes the idea that there might just be random encounters pretty well, but that's City life for you. The bus pulls up to one of the facility's entranceways, a heavyset pair of metal doors embedded into a wall, looking a bit rusted shut but still functionally sealed. "Manual, work on unlocking the entrance." Hohenheim says. "Do you know anything else about the Abnormalities we're bound to run into?" "Manual only knows what Manual knows." Manual repeats. Hohenheim sighs again, turning back to look to the others. "Our information is incomplete but we know some of the details. Upper floors are the Control, Training, and Information department. Below that is Disciplinary and Safety, and below that is the Manager's office. There's a HE-Class Abnormality--please be aware that Lobotomy Corp classification is based on Enkephalin production capacity, not danger--called Ratatoskr. In their berserk state they will attempt to swarm and devour us. Most Ratatoskrs were transformed into that state and can be incapacitated normally. Only the original Ratatoskr will transform into an egg upon defeat. There will also be an Abnormality called 'Nidhoggr' that will be a dragon, abilities unknown but generally will utilize fairly anticipatable violence."
Tamiel Luxis	Many things are accessible to White's eyes, as she turns them on Tamiel, that so many others cannot hope to see.                                   TAMIEL LUXIS                                   | TITLES | Daughter of the Sorrowslayer, Student of the Beastbreaker, | Vinetan Emissary, Gloaming Acquisitions, | Demonhunter Cadet (drop out), Nephilim, Firstborn Multiversal Vinetan | HP |__________| | MP |__________| | Skills: Resonance of Empathy |_|_|_|_|_| - Mend Soul, Recieve Prayer. | Resonance of Envy |_|_|_|_|_|, (Shadowstitching, Shadow Animation, | Shadowwalk, Shadowcopy.) Oathbinding. Staffwork (Decent), Flight, Immortality, | Spycraft, Bookbinding, Organizing, Study.                                                                                      Tamiel takes note of White's gaze on her, turning her eyes on the spider with a pointed glare, arms still crossed. A word threatens to bubble up in her throat--intercepted by a stark-white memory of fear, making her grip on her own arms white.     She turned her own eyes away at the same moment White did, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.     The skittish angel is, for now, in uneasy peace with the spider.
Rita Ma	Rita's happy to return White's little bow! She's been a reliable... co-worker? Co-Elite? Well, a reassuring presence to have along, anyway.      "They said they wanted to start a small business..."      "Oh," Rita says, looking back at Tamiel (hi Tamiel! Li'l smile) and then slight-frowning. But it's only a frown of confusion.      She's had weirdly good experiences with small businesses, all things considered!      "The purpose of developing EGO Gear is to eventually provide ways for people to better protect themselves..."      "if I can establish myself and my team, maybe we've all got better options."      "Thank you for explaining, mister... Hohenheim?" She hesitates a little on the pronunciation, but she's probably got it. "I don't have any objections to that, of course. Um, is your team just the two of you and Manual, at the moment?"      "... he presently has authority over Manual."      The way she- it??- talks about herself makes Rita slightly uneasy. Intellectually, she knows the answer, because a big deal has been made of the City's ban on humanlike AI. But even so...      "Ms. Manual," she says, looking back over her bus seat with a slightly suspicious expression, "you're not a person, are you?"      Disembarking the bus, she stands placidly in front of the doors with her hands folded in front of her, waiting politely for them to open. The idea of forcing them drifts across her mind, but it's probably best that the doors remain able to keep things in.      "... I'm sorry, 'transformed'? Were most of the Ratatoskr humans, before?" Eeuhhh....
Father Berislav	The so-called Mad Father's means of transportation, aside from his own two feet, is a weapon-of-slash-declaration-of-war, so he has opted for the former to not draw attention. The Syndicates, nor any other power structure in the City, mustn't be put on high alert without good reason. So it is that he arrives in the parking lot.      "Thank you, Manual." Berislav, hands clasped, bows his head in thanks, boarding the bus and taking a seat close to Hohenheim and Alyssa. If they are around, they might be avoiding us.      "That's understandable," says Berislav. "I can't imagine anyone still here would be here if they had any better options. They're likely scared that someone will come and take the meager stability that squatting in this place can afford them." If you've any questions, now's the time to ask them.      "When I last spoke with you, Marton, and Alyssa, I set a certain expectation," Berislav says, hands folded serenely in his lap. "I'd like to judge for myself how well you've abided by it. Morton said that you were going to accomplish great things." He lets the rumble of the bus speak to his thoughts on that. "Alyssa said that you intended to develop EGO as a defense against the likes of the Pianist."      "At the time, you were hesitant to partner with us for anything, because you felt that it would hurt your attempts to appeal to the parasites that benefit the most from the City's cycle of violence."      "What changed?" The 'Mad Father' made a compelling argument about serving the people whose blood makes the machinery turn.      There is a very slight smile on his face, to hear it. "I'm pleased to hear it. It's frustrating how often people's hearts are closed to one another." The purpose of developing EGO Gear is to eventually provide ways for people to better protect themselves against Abnormalities and other City troubles as well as improve on their design.      "Other City troubles," Berislav repeats. "Such as?" He wants to hear Hohenheim say it. --      Berislav steps off of the bus once it pulls up to the doors. "It's good to see you again, Rita, Tamiel, Veronica. How have you all been?"
Veronica	"The purpose of developing EGO Gear is to eventually provide ways for people to better protect themselves against Abnormalities and other City troubles"     "Which people?" Veronica asks, her tone just shy of acerbic. "Who's getting the first batch you make, if your little workshop gets off the ground?"
White	It's not exactly pleasing to hear that the best information available on that weird animatronic is 'Wow, that shouldn't be moving'. White squinches her eyebrows a little before relaxing, shaking her head gently, and trying to very briefly summarize what she saw by noting, "It moves very fast... If you take... Your eyes off of it." Theoretically, White should be perfectly fine to handle that kind of conditional modifier, but it's better to have insurance- the others' awareness- in case she becomes distracted. She files away a thought at the way Hohenheim said "barely even have AI", already making little predictions about why it's behaving abnormally, but those will need confirmation later, with the Evil Eye among other things.      She doesn't especially *want* to care about Hohenheim's motivations, and is trying very hard to tune out the signals everyone is casting about a rough history with the man. She's just here because Angela was feeling fretful about Manual, after all. At least it sounds like the dangers of the day are well within her familiarity! Swarms of creatures might as well have been breakfast to her after a point in the Labyrinth, though she'll need to take care with the others' proximity as usual. Dragons, too, are a regular sort of hunt for her... Though admittedly not *True* Dragons, as much as imitations. She doesn't know how seriously she needs to take this Nidhoggr, but with a name like that it's kind of begging to be considered a Last Boss. She'll just hope that she can examine it a little before she or the others have to throw down, and if it's too much for the group now they can escape and make a new plan if they need to.      With White pretending Tamiel doesn't exist for now, Rita's the next to have her closed eyes' attention, given a couple of her questions. Asking about Manual's personhood creates a very, very small wince, but no commentary. Instead, she asks Hohenheim as an extension of Rita's question, "Are they... 'Infectious'... In battle?" It would kind of suck if the only times she's around Rita on the job are ones where she has to cut off bits of herself because something is trying to mutate her body or mind. That's a really unfortunate trend to keep around her in particular! Not that she'd want to do it anyway.      Regardless, once someone's snapped a pic of her map, White lets the layered illusion drop and gently dusts off her palms, and follows the others out of the bus once it's stopped. Standing in front of the gate with her hands folded, her head craning upward slowly, she shares similar brief thoughts with Rita of breaking it down, but only coequally with 'I could just teleport around this' and 'I hope it isn't loud when it opens'. It's probably loud for a door, just given the size and weight of it. Still, she can wait patiently, as long as nothing keeps Manual from doing as she intended.      She's once again reminded by some of the background chatter that she's wearing her usual, same-old dress and boots for today, that she wears so often otherwise. She reweaves or replaces it regularly of course, so it never looks even a little worn out, but... It's always hard to give up what's comfortable. She never did get used to those suit pants she tried out.
Aika Rosewater	White.     Any look or nod is returned with full energy by Aika! She's clearly paying attention, in the way someone whose senses are sensitive does, though maybe, just a bit, in the way someone who's always looking everywhere intentionally does too.     If White wants to snoop on her with her Special Eyes, there's nothing stopping her. Seems Aika is a hand-to-hand specialist with fire, specialized banes and decently high stats all around, plus quite the stacked resistances against influences and corruption. It's a pretty simple kit, but it gets the job done. "My goal is to prevent the Abnormalities from harming anyone else first and foremost, but I am hoping to extract Enkephalin from the Abnormalities too--"     She'd already been told these things were to be 'contained'. She'd asked why, and mostly, the answer didn't satisfy her at the time. This one does-- it rubs her the wrong way to cage 'animals' and generate power with them, but if it's a choice between that and wide-spread massacres... no, it still rubs her the wrong way, but she'll deal. "We have no way to destroy them."     "Really? Damn. Even with all the stuff people you've gathered can do, not a single way? That's some sturdy eggs." "...The animatronics shouldn't be active anymore."     "OH DON'T SAY -THAT-. Do you know what happens when someone says that? That's like saying 'we haven't seen a vampire around here in a decade'. Guess what happens next?" That's experience, not fiction, but it's also fiction. "There's a HE-Class Abnormality--"     "The squirrel and the dragon? Huh." "... I'm sorry, 'transformed'?"     Aika's ears perk, and she glances at Manual for the answer too. "Yeah what'd you mean by that, actually?"     She's already off her seat, by the time the bus pulls over to the front gate, but in no hurry to offer smashing the door down if it won't cooperate. Well, maybe a LITTLE bit, but she'd like to know about the 'transformed' squirrels first, unless that was just a way to say they've been forced into their berserk states.
Angela	''Are they 'Infectious' in battle?'' "Not that I'm aware, that's if you do the 'Works' wrong. But I wouldn't risk it. Information on Abnormalities can be missing or not quite correct." Hohenheim seems to consider 'what changed?' to be answered. He's got a very particular brand of charisma in the sense that it only really appeals to a particular type of person. People like Alyssa and Marton, apparently. He doesn't seem willing to openly declare war on the Nests or the Head or anything but he does say, "My understanding is that now that EGO are an option that anyone can stumble upon." Hohenheim gives a nod to Veronica. "Then the sorts of dangers I am thinking of are those that would turn the Seed of Light project to their own aims ... alongside, of course, the usual sorts of dangers the City throws at everyone that are usually quite direct. I obviously cannot stand against those forces just because I have a few EGO and some Enkephalin but we must start somewhere. What form it takes depends on the sort of people I can rely on when we reach the crossroads once the new reality of The City sets in."''Is your team just the two of you and Manual'' "There's one more of us." Alyssa jumps in. "But Marton didn't come along in case we both die and someone has to keep up the work alone." This has the added benefit of the GM not having to run quite as many characters! It's win win! ''Ms. Manual, you're not a person, are you?'' "Manual is Manual." Manual says. "By the standards put forward by the Head post Machine Purge, Manual does not qualify as a person. However, Manual is still able to answer questions and help you in many tasks. Manual may not be classified as a person, but Manual is a genius and can answer many questions." There's some more computer thinking noises as Manual works at her task until... "Manual is a genius." Manual says as the doors to the facility jolt sharply and then haltingly slide open. "Down we go." Hohenheim says. Now that the doors are open, he doesn't intend to dilly dally. "Alyssa, stay with the bus. Manual, transfer to my device just in case you need to seize control of the facility." "Understood." Hohenheim draws out a small videopad, not unlike the kind Angela uses to watch over her agents, and Manual's face appears on the screen. As the group heads into the facility, it begins as a ramp heading down and then passes by an elevator shaft (the elevator does not seem to be functional anymore) that leads to the lower levels and three hallway splits leading to the Control, Information, and Training departments. And down each of these three hallways is a situation, somewhat visible from the center foyer.
Angela	INFORMATION Something is in the dark wearing a Lobcorp Uniform, whispering the word, 'Help' over and over. Hohenheim hesitates, but then heads down this hallway. "Hello...?" He says. "Help....help..." The Lobcorp Agent(?) whispers, walking further down the hallway. "...Suspicious. Anybody got a read on them?" He asks. Those with augmented eyesight can see near invisible threads tightening around the Agent's body and that he's certainly moving in a jerky, almost puppet-like manner. TRAINING There's numerous strange threads lying on the floor around here, and further into the darkness, lingering near some practice cells, the glowing eyes of some Ratatoskrs, all tangled up in the thread. They don't act immediately hostile, despite Hohenheim's warning, and they linger in the dark, staring at the new interlopers. CONTROL There's more of that strange thread lying on the floor. And there's a crackle over the local intercom. "Who...are you people?" A middle-aged man's voice murmurs over the comms. "What are you doing here? Wait--I recognize one of you from the video... And I've heard of ... That's the 'Mad Father' isn't it...?"
White	White is at least very slightly comforted by the idea that the rattie baddies aren't *supposed* to give her psychic zombie viruses if they bite her. It's a start. Seeing Manual transfer devices reminds her of TTT, and perhaps that would be an interesting conversation if White were the type to jabber while she works. Maybe it'll come up in more relaxed times later.      Before leaving the bus entirely, White calls one of her nearby 'agents' out of the dark and points it toward the bus; the little spider gives her a foreleg salute before hopping up on top of the bus to keep watch. It's not entirely clear whether it's to keep an eye on Alyssa when she's being left there alone, or for White's own peace of mind, but... Hey, it could be both? The spider periodically busies itself by rolling a little rock around with its forelegs like a ball.      Stepping down into the dark, White lets her scythe fall out of her sleeve and draws it upright in one hand, opening her eyes. The dim pinkish gleam of magic is allowed to emit from them, so that it's easier to keep track of her in the dark! She's obligated to stick with the group for now anyway, so it's not like she's got any stealth advantage to give up in the first place. At the junction between the hallways, White hesitates briefly over what she sees. There's a trend, and she doesn't much like it!      To try and elaborate in her own way what's going on, she gently slides the haft of her scythe in Hohenheim's way to briefly stop him as he begins down the left path, extending her other hand to show him something. There's a quiet creak like straining piano wire, as she flexes her curled fingers out from her palm; there are several strands of her own tightly woven silk there, around the top joint of each finger and linked to her wrist. "Puppetted. Something new." There, now that should make sense. Hopefully. Well, she's also hoping nobody looks at her funny for the coincidence...      She turns around. It probably seems at first like she's going to abandon the shambling, entwined man altogether, but instead she reaches out from the back of the group, targetting him with teleportation magic. He's moving slowly, so it should be easy to bring him out of the foreign thread's binding and straight to her hand. If he struggles suddenly, she can just use the silk she conjured for her demonstration to quickly bind his arms together. That should be suitably gentle, right?      Beyond that, she seems to be paying more pensive attention to the hallway toward the Training department, where the Ratatoskrs are already bound up. She's anticipating some kind of ambush, and *really* doesn't want to let her guard down. Also she would really rather not be the one to mess with the intercom, so she's just going to pretend she can't hear it until someone else bothers with it. Maybe the 'Mad Father' since he's so famous!
Tamiel Luxis	"It's good to see you again, Rita, Tamiel, Veronica. How have you all been?"     Tamiel stumbles out of the van, not able to stop herself from a streeeetch that left her wings poking out juuuust a bit behind her. "I've had to catch up on work, things were piling up while I was stuck in Parsons' storm." She leaps on a chance to gripe. The presence of one of Parson's allies in the room had nothing to do with it. Surely. "Well...If sight stops them, I can try to slow them down some? I'll be on the lookout..." She steals a sideways look at White--as close as she would get to acknowledging the traitor's input.     "The squirrel and the dragon? Huh."     "You're right," she murmured, thoughtful suddenly. "Those are linked myths. The dragon that gnaws at the root of the world tree, and the rat that ferries messages between the dragon and the nameless eagle, making them upset..." She paused, turning seriously toward Honenheim. "Is there an eagle? Does one of them influence the other...?" She's already worrying at her lip. She didn't understand a lot about the way that abnormalities and distortions worked, but they felt...familiar, in a sleepy, queasy, half-real way.     With Rita and Berislav familiar to the man in the intercom, and White already stepping in with her own expertise to try to handle the poor tangled man, it rested with Tamiel to deal with the...rats.     She puts herself in the hall in training, staff held out between her and the...Former people? "...Nice rats." She said, though she wasn't sure that they could break free of their tangle if they wanted to. "Do you know which one of you is real...?" Could they be turned back? Oh, she hoped they could. The alternative was...     Tamiel's breath rattled out uneasily, as her wings flexed out from behind her. A soft light cascaded around her, as she held out a hand toward them. "Maybe what you need is a little warmth...?" But they a good distance off, and that strange thread...
Father Berislav	Inside, his attention is immediately drawn to the agent in peril, though he spares some attention for the voice on the intercom. And I've heard of ... That's the 'Mad Father' isn't it...?     "Hello, yes," says Berislav, answering the intercom. "That's the name the people of the Backstreets have given me," Berislav answers, politely but hurried. "I'm not opposed to talking, but please--there's someone here in trouble and I need your help to help them. You've been here longer than we have."     "They're heading down the Information hallway. They don't seem to have any control over their body, and they're moving away from us farther with each passing moment. I can just barely make out some thread on the floor here. Is it part of some Abnormality that's affecting them? Hold on--" ...Nice rats.     Berislav turns his attention to the Ratatoskr. "Tangled up..." His brow furrowed in concentration, he turns and watches the figure disappearing down the hallway. As they go farther and farther, every inch more into darkness, he draws a heavy-frame silver revolver from an orange tear in space. Every step seems to jerk their body, as if they were a marionette. It's just a matter of watching which limbs twitch and in which direction...      There are new people here, whose only warning is, "I apologize for the noise."      Berislav thumbs the revolver's cylinder and pulls the trigger. A bark felt in the chest and a brilliant muzzle flash herald the zip of the hollow-point bullet towards the hallway's wall. It strikes there with an audible, terrifying ricochet, sparks flying from the impact as the now-deformed metal rips a carefully calculated trajectory through the wires, based on Berislav's observation of the agent's manipulated limbs.
Aika Rosewater	On the bright side, possibly probably not infectious.     That's a slight relief.     As they start going in, it's evident that for all the ribbing Aika is doing to poor Hoheheim, she's also keeping a wary eye on him, like she's not going to entertain the idea of harm coming to him. She might be treating this like an escort mission now, without knowing what he's capable of.     This is why she heads down towards INFORMATION, accompanying Hohenheim up until they can hear the calls for aid.     "Stay back," she motions, urging Hohenheim back and stepping forward. "That agent is bound by thread. It's probably a trap, and whatever did that to him mustn't be much further away."     White seems to be on saving the man, at least, so that's one less little thing to worry about. "I'll take the lead for now, there's no need to take risks." This mostly concerns Hohenheim though!     If White's attempt to extract the man succeeds, Aika does in fact just head on further forward ahead.
Veronica	"It's good to see you again, Rita, Tamiel, Veronica. How have you all been?"     "Busy, but could be a lot worse," Veronica says with a sigh. "I'd stop by the Print more but there's always a lot to do in town."     Veronica's attention, once inside, turns to the tangled-up heap of squirrels. "They're just stuck there," she observes, "Probably woulda moved when they heard us coming if they could've. All this thread... some kinda spider?" An awkward involuntary glance in White's direction. "Or puppets, maybe..."     Without her EGO manifested Veronica's abilities are somewhat limited, but not entirely inaccessible. She lifts a fist-sized piece of debris and bounce-rolls it down the hallway toward Training, testing to see if anything is lying in wait - or anything instinctive enough to pounce on a rock, at least.     As for whether these squirrels can be turned back... Veronica was keeping her mind off the pulse of the City here, because the total absence of recent foot traffic limits the extent to which there's even anything for her to hear. Now she shifts her attention, as she watches the stone roll forward, to thepsychic landscape of this place if one exists. Larger L Corp facilities are towns unto themselves, and every inhabited place has little hot-spots: desire-paths, the bathroom with the bad sinks that nobody uses if they have the choice, the corner where you can sneak out for a long smoke and not get caught.     If the people here still remember being people, even just subconsciously, then those impressions, the collective mental map of the place, will linger in some form. Otherwise, if the facility has no more memories and is just a soulless arrangement of concrete and metal, she'll at least have learned that much.
Rita Ma	"But Marton didn't come along in case we both die..."      Rita blinks, outside the doors. "Oh. That's smart," she says earnestly. She's familiar with the logic, but she hasn't been around people with cause to think that way for a while. +1 Rita Respect!      "Manual is Manual."      That sloshes around in Rita's little brain with an absently distracted nod. "Thank you, Manual," she says when the doors open. No 'miss', but... you wouldn't really thank a computer either, would you?      She gives White's little spider a salute, too, before going in, and then feels a bit sheepish about it.      "It's good to see you again, Rita..."      "You, too, Mr. Berislav," Rita says with a little tip of her head. "It's been a little hard, but I'm alright. What about you?"      The question idly drifts across her mind whether Berislav's ever heard of Moroni, but her gut tells her that could be culturally insensitive somehow. You can't just assume everyone in That Demographic knows each other, Rita.      . . .      CONTROL: Rita entrusts Hohenheim to White and Berislav, and splits off to discover the crackling intercom.      "Who...are you people?"      Her breath hitches, and not just for the threads she can just barely see. Rita's eyes widen as she tries to tiptoe around the threads without touching them, limboing under one at one point until she can poke the intercom's button:      "That's right. I'm Rita," she says with her voice lowered, eyeing the dark room's corners as she speaks into the intercom's mic to make sure nothing jumps her. "Father Berislav's here, too. We're here to contain the Abnormalities. Are you... a survivor? You haven't been stuck here the whole time, have you...? What's going on with the weird threads?"
Angela	Manual is a bit like TTT, it's probably not hard to imagine a world where Angela only existed on devices like these rather than being able to walk around in her own body. Xion even once erroneously assumed that Angela was just a program on a device. Alyssa startles as a spider suddenly jumps on the bus but Manual seems to appreciate the spider (maybe an appreciation of spiders is just sort of embedded in the AngelOS) and starts listing spider facts while she and Hohenheim head on down. "Spiders have no extensor muscles in their limbs and instead extend them by hydraulic pressure. To avoid being eaten by females, male spiders engage in a variety of complex courtship rituals." White can teleport the man away from his apparent bindings and Berislav can shoot off the threads that are stubborn. When he reappears, White gets a better look at the guy. Sort of. Whatever this thing is, it's no longer human. The head is faceless, and much of the muscle and ligaments are exposed. There's some bloodstains, but they're very old. And drained, and there are tight threads wrapped around its musculature and joints, such as they are. Teleporting this one away from the threads holding it up makes it go slack in White's arms. "...Were you inspired by the Lambent Dragon too?" The voice says over the comms. "Did the City take something from you, Father?" ''There's someone here in trouble.'' "There's nobody in trouble here." The voice says over the comms. "Not anymore." Hohenheim doesn't seem to be in a hurry to walk into a trap and when told to stay back, he does just that, but he doesn't follow Aika further into the facility just yet either. Hohenheim is a patient man so long as he's allowed to be and he examines the puppet in White's arms. "If this puppet was once a living man, that time is long past. I wonder if this explains the moving animatronics as well... But how could that be? These threads are very fine." "His uniform is a Lobotomy Corp uniform, but that may have been indicative of a trap rather than identity. However, this would explain the lack of LobCorp personnel remaining here despite the resources." Manual says. But as Aika moves forward, even with her augmented senses it is slow moving because there's still plenty of thread lying in piles on the floor, or pressing into her path, like she's deftly avoiding the most subtle of a spider's traps. She can easily imagine even a careful person stumbling into them and getting all caught up in the threads. Most people don't have her keen sight. There's no community for Veronica to tap into here anymore. It feels like a ghost town to her, albeit one still haunted by ghosts. But only one of those ghosts is someone who can be talked to. Even the Abnormalities are no longer functioning as a community--the local ecosystem that kept them stable has collapsed into anarchy and violence. Down below, Veronica feels something approaching from the lower levels. Another wild animal that used to have a story. Her rolling stone gets caught in some of the tendrils and it's snapped right back towards her. Whatever is behind this thread is getting a little irritated people are just snapping the strings keeping these creatures or puppets bound. But it isn't immediately hostile either. Indeed, as Tamiel reaches out to the Ratatoskrs, they lunge out at her to bite and chomp at her--and they are quite big, each one is several feet tall despite their squirrel-like forms, the threads snap them back and prevent them from having Tamiel for breakfast. Aika sees two more puppets in the distance. They crouch down in a defensive posture, as if waiting further commands.
Angela	''Are you... a survivor?'' "Yes... I've survived... when others did not." The voice on the intercom says. "You see, I too... am a 'Mad Father', oh they didn't call me that, but I could see it in their eyes. The City took my son way... just an innocent boy... I didn't lash out in revenge, I didn't hurt anybody... I tried to get him back. I tried to get him back and of course The City didn't allow me to have that either..." The voice moans in despair. "My poor boy... That's when I heard the Voice... a Voice that promised that I could change, that the City could be made to change..." There is a small pause over the intercom before he adds, "I see you came with Lobcorp dogs... But I understand, small sacrifices for the greater good. Little compromises..." "Not liking where this is going..." Hohenheim murmurs. "Lobcorp also wished to change The City." "Your failure gave me a gift in my darkest moment... so I can forgive your...corporatist background. But you are hurting my beautiful new children." "I'll forgive it... If you stop now." The middle aged man says. "There's no survivors." The Puppeteer adds. "What did The City take from you...? Surely it must have, by now... It must have taken something. What did it take from you, Miss Rita? You Father Berislav?" Then there is a pause. "It took something for you, didn't it young lady?" That must be Veronica.
Veronica	"That's when I heard the Voice... a Voice that promised that I could change, that the City could be made to change..."     "Hey!" Veronica calls, hustling back toward the intercom near Rita at this mention of 'the Voice' again. "That's what she told me too, more or less, but there's ways to make good on that and there's ways not to. I don't think hanging out in some dingy basement pulling bodies around on strings is gonna change the City, not in the way we're tryin' to."     "It took something from you, didn't it young lady?"     Veronica frowns. "'Course it did. Lots of things. I don't know what change you think you're making like this, though." She gestures back in the direction of the Training department. "All you've got is a buncha squirrels. I've got a whole town at my back, and more thanks to the Father."
White	Dead already, is he? Sigh. White had gotten her hope up a little bit, hearing him speak, but she should've expected less. Her little nieces could speak now too, sometimes. It wasn't out of the question for a puppet to manage one word, as bait.      White leaves her silk binding his wrists and forearms, and lowers the flensed corpse to the floor in one hand before releasing it. Just in case threads are hiding inside the body still, even if it's kind of grim to think about. She's fought other thread manipulators before, and used her own in strange ways to boot... There's never really one foolproof countermeasure, so all one can do is take caution.      Hohenheim and Manual's input is recieved with a calm stare and a small nod. "Walk... With something long." she says vaguely in Aika's direction, adjusting her grip on her scythe as sluggish violet magic drips down the blade, then 'ignites' into a slow flamelike phantom smolder around it. Aika's own flames, assuming she can project them outward in a controlled fashion, should help remove any hanging threads as she walks. The others might have to improvise, if they don't follow behind Aika closely. Though, Tamiel is still fussing with the squirrel-beasts, and White is still at the junction of the halls. Before she makes too much distance from her, or Rita or Berislav, White leans down to let another spider climb out of her sleeve and quietly skitter over to join those in the Control area with the intercom. That way if anything happens after she walks away, she'll know! Then, reluctantly, she steps over toward Tamiel while holding her scythe away from the angel. You know, like that's going to make it any less concerning when it looks like it's dripping antigravity shadow-napalm in slow motion. "... I can... Tie them up. To deal... With later."      White wouldn't be bothered to just kill the things off, but... Well, if she can just put off the problem a little longer, maybe Tamiel won't get upset? She doesn't exactly want to leave an angel here to get eaten by mistake while she's not looking, that'd be pretty bad for her... Karma, or something, right?      The talk from the intercom is concerning, though. Whoever's speaking claims parenthood over... The puppets? The threads? Or maybe the other anomalies? The spider White left in that room folds its front legs pensively, while the woman herself well away from the conversation just tries to weather the bad feelings she's getting in silence.
Aika Rosewater	"If this puppet was once a living man, that time is long past. I wonder if this explains the moving animatronics as well... But how could that be? These threads are very fine."     "Fine doesn't mean weak. I wouldn't want to be--"     A careful tiptoe hop, between two scattered piles of thread.     "--caught in them, myself. Hang on. This isn't practical. Nevermind walking with something long, give me some room here," she instructs White and whoever else is trailing her.     As much as she enjoys trying to parkour through the scattered loose thread, there's a better solution. Her tattoos crackle, illuminating the halls as silver-blue flames flow around her arms and hands.     "Heads up, keep your distance."     And then woosh. She sends the flames out in waves, to burn as much of the scattered thread as possible, snuffing them once the task is done. No sense risking a big fire in here. Once she's sure she's cleared the path, she shouts back: "Way's clear! But don't rush along."     This leads them to-- more puppets! "... I can... Tie them up. To deal... With later."     "That might be for the best. Though I'd guess... the kind of thing that can control puppets remotely like that, can probably see and hear through them too. We'd be sparing ourselves a fight, but not an alarm. If they're scouts, be ready for whatever's behind them. If they're protecting something, we need to find what quick." Either way: she trusts White can tie them up as she says!
Rita Ma	"My poor boy... That's when I heard the Voice..."      Rita's expression sours more and more as she listens to the man's crackling voice. She slumps against the wall next to her, following the Control room's threads with her eyes sullenly.      Helping Carmen was supposed to make the City better. Maybe it will, eventually. But for now, she's met two creepy-spider-guys or people-chopping Osmonds for every one Weather Report who's benevolently happier for the change.      Deep breath. This guy sounds creepy, but she doesn't know he's been killing people, right?      "The City hasn't taken anything from me," Rita says to the intercom by her shoulder, which is true from some angle. The City didn't; Angela and Petra did. "It just reminds me of home, before I made my home better. So I want to make the City better, too. People here are suffering because the City's built on exploiting them for money and power... like you, and your son."      Peeling herself off the wall, she starts carefully picking her way deeper into Control, keeping her eyes (and nose) peeled for any sign of where the voice might be broadcasting from.      "What do you want, Mr. String? I hope it's not to hurt and exploit other people, too. The 'Voice'... I trusted her, too. She's kind, isn't she? She wouldn't want her gifts used for that."
Father Berislav	Did the City take something from you, Father?     The body goes slack. Berislav lowers his gun and grimaces. A trap, and an ugly one. Designed to take advantage of compassion, or only presumed loyalty?     "From me? No," Berislav answers, after a pause. "Really, it wasn't even the City that drove me to do this to myself. I was this way before I ever came here." There's nobody in trouble here. Not anymore.     Berislav frowns. "It took something from you, didn't it? May I ask what?"     The City took my son way... just an innocent boy... I didn't lash out in revenge, I didn't hurt anybody... I tried to get him back. I tried to get him back and of course The City didn't allow me to have that either...     "You poor man," Berislav says, his voice quavering slightly with empathetic grief, stowing the revolver in the same orange wound. "I can't imagine what that must have felt like. It's awful, isn't it?" His brow lifts. "The way that the City can take however it likes and render it as ordinary. But there's nothing ordinary about the cruelty you've suffered." What did The City take from you...? Surely it must have, by now... It must have taken something. What did it take from you, Miss Rita? You Father Berislav?     "Something was taken from me, but not by the City, and not something that I want back. It was a beautiful thing, and the enemy of anyone who wants to do lasting good in the world."     "I went, with that thing in my heart, to a place a little like the City, and I met a man, who was a little like the head of a Wing. His 'singularity' was 'drinkable water,' and because it was all under his control, no one drank without his say-so."     "I thought that I could change him with kind words and beautiful ideas. I thought that whatever evil he resorted to, I could defeat, only by nurturing good. I lived in a world where those things were possible, but no one else did. The name of what was taken is 'ignorance.' Holding onto it killed good people. Losing it has saved thousands more, whether by turning their souls from sin or killing those who made war on them."      "These 'Lobcorp dogs,'" he says, gesturing with a nod of his head towards Hohenheim, "Got the same chance from me that all gardeners of sin do--to save their immortal souls. There's no 'compromise' with me; either you want to be a human being, or you value power and money more than your life. They want to make the effort to be human, so I'm allowing them to do that. Because I insist on not throwing humanity away, in the face of the City, who insists that it *must* be, I'm called the Mad Father."     "Are these," he says, gesturing towards the Ratatoskr, "Your children, too? Or did you do this to stop them from hurting your children?"
Angela	''I don't think hanging out in some dingy basement...'' "What is the way you are 'trying to', hm? But the fact is, i still need more practice. You see, I am trying to expand the strength and control of my strings. I'm still working on the voices too, it's very difficult. Words are very complex." There is another hiss from the Puppeteer as Aika burns the threads along the floor. "You're here for the Abnormalities aren't you? ... Yes, perhaps you can help me in my experimentation then, since you are so keen on cutting and tearing and burning..." That something from below is approaching, more quickly now then before. "I have been struggling with 'size' and 'strength'." ''Before I made my home better...'' "And how did you make your home better?" The Puppeteer asks. "In any experiment it's best to repeat actions that lead to results to confirm the methods are consistently applicable." Mr. String is a little slower to answer what he wants, in the way that one hesitates before giving an answer they're not sure will be appreciated upon being given. "Revenge." Another pause. "She wouldn't want her gifts used for 'that'... You are quite correct about that Voice. But..." A heavy sigh. "She makes no demands, Rita, there are no bargains or trades. She wants us to be ''us''. She wants to see what we 'Distort' into. She just helps us see the shape of ourselves unburdened by the cold restrictions of this world. How the scalpel is used, is up to us, isn't it? I think I see the shape of the difference between us, now. You want to save The City, give it a brighter future. I want to wipe it away so that new growth can overtake it." It's gettin closer. White sees it first, a claw pushing out of the elevator shaft and draging a wooden serpentine body, covered in flames that never quite seem to burn the wood away. It stares balefully at White and Aika before rearing back with its neck and spraying burning splinters at the two of them. There ARE strings across the creature, and it seems like it's straining against them, like they're trying to hold the Abnormality back but it's just too strong for them. But despite this new threat, the Puppeteer seems content to have a conversation. Rita can deftly avoid string and giant squirrels to move closer to the source of the voice--a closed office door, though there's a window that gives her a glimpse of who is talking. And it is, for the most part, just a guy. He has two limbs, he is wearing a grey duster jacket, a brown shirt, dark blue slacks. It's the head that's strange. It's a big metallic block with numerous red eyes set into little carved out holes. It sort of likes like a die, though the number of sides don't really correspond equally to one another. One of the eyes flits over to look at Rita. "Yes, I too once held ignorance in my heart. If you wish to give them their chance, Father, then I won't get in the way. Take the Abnormalities you'd like for your purposes." ''Are these your children too?'' "No, I wanted to see if I could control the monsters as well as the people. In understanding the lengths my threads can go, the more prepared I am against the City's various ... custodians."
White	White had intended to watch and make sure Tamiel could safely do what she intended with the snared Ratatoskrs, but it doesn't seem like being leisurely is encouraged in this place. The Puppeteer's conversation with Berislav and Rita seems to imply he's more conversational than expected, and honestly a bit more lucid than expected too, but... Well, there are limits. And it seems like even his attempts to restrain and control the abnormalities are quite imperfect. Her head turns toward the wall, away from Tamiel as she senses the creature emerging from the elevator shaft around the Information sector.      She's perfectly still for a second or two like an alerted deer, before reaching out her palm and letting her own silk threads flow out, giving Tamiel plenty of time to back up while White blocks off the passage with the squirrel abnos using her webbing. Then, she turns on her heel and darts back the other way and takes a sharp right, heading back toward Information where the biggest problem seems to be emerging, holding her scythe against her chest like a rolled umbrella. Her spy-der will continue to try and stick to Rita's heels, a silent little bit of company. No good in a fight, certainly, but a good enough canary to let the others know if Rita gets into trouble at least, and maybe to boost Rita's mood by way of pantomime!      White herself? Well, she's gotta strategize! That, and dodge the spray of burning wood just as she's coming around the corner, holding her scytheblade out to consume some of it with the dark magic coating, and crouching down to shrink her profile behind it. Once she's laid eyes on the enemy, the Evil Eye attempts to identify the abnormality's characteristics, and most importantly where a weakpoint might be, or what it might be averse to. It doesn't seem like interfering with the threads will actually help them if those are already restraining it, and the flames around it aren't burning it either...      Maybe while she performs the analysis, she can double down on restraining it while the others try out their own options? With that in mind, White touches her palm to the floor from her already scrunch-crouched position, making an orange glyph over the top of the creature and projecting a condensed pillar of stone down into its back from the ceiling, trying to pin the spine and reduce some of that slithery squirming. From there, she triggers the Heavy Evil Eye, magnifying the creature's body weight to try and slow it down further! Maybe three sources of restraint will keep it from going too wild while she figures out what'll kill it properly.
Tamiel Luxis	Her light finds...Nothing. No soul to reflect and bolster, no will to resonate with, no memory of some distant time--not even an afterimage. Her light does absolutely nothing to them, and her eyes grow wide--     --The angels fall back onto the musty floor, just barely catching herself with a hand, watching the rats struggle in vain against the strings of the old man. "Heaven," she breathed, staring up at them. She finds herself looking at the ceiling--she didn't know where the voice was coming from, after all. Her mouth felt bone-dry, her words shaky. "Thank you...?" Her eyes dart to the side, finding White, before forcing herself to her feet, trying--too late--to put a brave face on it.      "I-I don't know if it's the strings, or...Whatever happened before, but. I don't think there's anything left." One of the rats made another lunge--and, in reflex, she stabbed at it with her staff.     Feeling faintly ridiculous, she coughed. "...I can't heal someone if there's nothing left..." She trails off, tapping a free hand over her chest.     She backed away from the rats, urging herself not to look away, no matter how unnerving. The man's speeches were. ...I want to wipe it away so that new growth can overtake it. She thought of the people at the Faded Print. Little Chance and Gamble. I don't like that. I don't like that at all... Good luck Rita, Berislav...!     "If these aren't your 'kids,' taking them won't be a problem..." Her eye darts downward at the sound of the rumbling below.     Tamiel brought her staff down on the ground...and the darkness beneath it rose up, bearing down on the rodents before her, white and Veronica like a tidal wave, threatening to smash the rodents all together.
Veronica	"What is the way you are 'trying to', hm?"     Veronica looks a little offended at those scare quotes. "Building a coalition, right," she says with a glance in Berislav's direction. "Making friends and allies, lending a hand here to earn a hand there. We're working with the Yurodivye, and plenty of other folks."     "But the fact is, i still need more practice."     "How long ago did you get like this, then? I get needing to hole up someplace to get your bearings again, for a little while..."     A huge... wooden snake? comes up through the elevator shaft and begins to aggress upon the Elites' position, despite the threads slowing it down. Veronica shields herself from the shower of burning splinters with her EGO-corroded arm, and decides this is a threat worth dealing with. "You two can keep talking to this guy if y'want," she says to Rita and the Father, "I'll help with the 'dragon'."     The dozens of hands that sprout from her jacket, rather than totally surrounding Veronica in a sort of pod, grab hold of her limbs and plant themselves across her torso and head. When Baker and Seventh's brick-and-concrete body forms around them, it does so as a nine-foot-tall 'suit' of building materials that grows over Veronica's own body shape. Once fully materialized, it stomps off down the hallway toward Aika and White.     Veronica wastes no time rushing to greet the new arrival, picking up speed as she storms down the hall. The showers of sparks, fire, and wood from the Abnormality about as much effect on Baker and Seventh as they would on an ordinary brick wall, if not less. She's sure it has other tricks up its sleeve, but she's also very confident in the power of her town's EGO. When she gets to within arm's reach of the wooden dragon, she tackles it bodily, trying to wrestle it into submission or at least hold it still and keep it away from the others.
White	*Before she ran off*      White, building her web-barrier after Tamiel's attempt at healing the creatures doesn't quite pan out, does manage to spare just a single very quiet comment. "... You had... To try." There's no snarky tone on it, of course. White isn't an optimist, but she doesn't like writing off possibilities because of cynicism either. She could probably stand to express what *might* have been sympathy with a bit more effort, though. It'd be nice if angels could fix everything, but that's just not the case. Even angels are just doing their best every day, White thinks.
Aika Rosewater	"You're here for the Abnormalities aren't you?"     "For better or worse, yeah," Aika calmly responds, adjusting her stance more defensively at the threat of something approaching and the mention of 'size' and 'strength' specifically.     "You know, if you're struggling with it, you don't gotta make it our struggle too. You can still just NOT sic anything on us," she offers, to an unreceptive audience, given the sudden shudder from the elevator shaft. Then a claw, a whole body-- fire, and strings. This just got absolutely awful.     At least it's not animatronics?     The rain of fiery splinters causes Aika to kick the ground, hard, smashing up the reinforced plates and tiles of the facility into temporary cover to weather the thing's nasty breath. It won't last, but it won't have to with White and Veronica joining her so swiftly. She listens, instead, for an opening, and inbetween shrapnel waves, rockets out of her cover towards the-- snake? Dragon? The extra cover from Baker and Seventh definitely helps.     "Mind your splash! It's still bound, that's slowing it down! If we free it, we'll have to deal with more of it!"     She doesn't use her fire. Better not risk it. Just give it a good punch, the sort that'd shatter a watt. Try to knock it down into the floor from above, hammer the head repeatedly. Stand on it if it's safe-- stand on it even if it's not, actually. It takes what it takes.
Rita Ma	"And how did you make your home better?"      Violence, obviously. But Rita slightly frowns while she tries not to say quite that.      "There was a big monster," she says while tiptoeing around the strands, "that was killing the poor, and the innocent. I helped turn it against the upper classes instead. The owners and masters of our city-" 'ship' would be a little too much to get into, right now- "-who got their power and money from exploiting others, and making it the evil way it was."      "Once they were all dead, other people did the hard stuff. They made workers' councils, and let the people decide how to take care of each other... and now nobody has to be scared or desperate, because nobody powerful gets their power from desperation."      She arrives outside his office, and only gawks for a moment. Rita puts on her best smile, and then knock-knocks at the door, waiting patiently for an invitation to come in.      But while she waits: "When you say you want to 'wipe away the City', Mr. Strings," she says from the other side of the glass- such a polite girl, even-faced, neatly-dressed, hands folded in front of her-      "-is the 'City' that you want to wipe away, only the people who love its evil and maintain it? Or are the workers and the beggars they abuse, who suffer the City's evil along with you, part of what has to be 'wiped away' too?"      Her calm demeanor's interrupted now by just a small, slightly-nervous smile. "... Ms. Carmen did trust you with this 'scalpel', Mr. Strings. Since I put my trust in her, too... it would make me really happy if she was right to."
Father Berislav	Take the Abnormalities you'd like for your purposes.     "Thank you," he says. Turning towards Hohenheim, he steps closer to make a request. "Well, you have your permission. I'd ask that you don't agitate him any further--it'd give me the best chance to smooth over what we've already done by cutting the strings we have." I'll help with the 'dragon'.     "Thank you, Veronica. Please be strategic with the help you're giving, and please do your best to see that the others are, too. I don't want to approach this man in the same way that we would a minion of the City's power structure."     He stows his revolver in the same orange space that it was pulled from, and follows Rita to his office. He hangs politely behind her, his eyes asking over her shoulder if he minds another visitor besides her.     "Thank you for allowing me to give those people their chance, and for your patience. It's important to me that people are allowed to remember the grace they're given at birth. I think that 'custodians' isn't the right word for Arbiters, Wing heads, or the average Syndicate. Custodians keep things clean; 'vandals' is the word you're looking for."     "Is there a name you'd prefer I call you?"
Angela	Hohenheim seems to be well enough, he expelled a bit of an electric pulse to keep the burning wood from impacting against him directly, but he exhales a long breath after from the exertion of it. "If this man is willing to let us take what we came here for, then we should take him up on his generous offer." He is clearly not particularly inclined to fight the guy with a load of threat all over the floor sticking to god knows what. But he doesn't seem particularly disturbed either. Maybe it's just City life to him, or maybe it's his background as LobCorp agent, but he seems content to just let the Puppeteer be a future concern. Of course, that's just him--he's clearly not made all the best life decisions before and he won't in the future either. The Evil Eye takes a good look at the Abnormality. It's called 'Nidhoggr'--all the Abnormalities here seem to be associated with greek myth. It's immune to fire, is presently debuffed by 'strings' that are restraining it lowering its speed and mobility. They're also agitating the Abnormality, but it's a pretty hostile one overall. It is one that is agitated by the presence of Ratatoskrs but doesn't take hostile action against them directly, rather focused on everything around them and whatever is in its way. It can shoot burning shrapnel from its mouth. As it's composed of wood, it is--outside of the fire--weak to things that harm wood. And of course, the fire can be theoretically put out or weakened in the ways fire can be. It's a WAW Class Abnormality--so it's definitely dangerous enough that it should probably be somewhere secure, even if it's less theoretically apocalyptic as the Ratatoskrs themselves. A singular Ratatoskr is easy enough to stab through and kill though finding the original might take some tries. It's doubtful the Puppeteer knew or cared which was the original. ''Vandals is the word you're looking for.'' The Puppeteer laughs. "Oh I like you." But his name? "I'm just The Puppeteer now." It doesn't seem he's too keen on holding onto his old name. "It isn't so fancy, but it's to the point." ''There was a big monster...'' "Did those poor and innocent turn away from the suffering they saw around them? Out of fear and hunger?" There is a knock knock at the door. An old neuron reminding him of good manners pulls him up to his feet and he opens the door. His eyes settle on Rita again. "Ohh.... Oh this close... You look so young..." Does he intend to kill the workers and the beggars? "I see no reason to kill the innocent, though saving them may be beyond me." He stares into Rita's eyes with his own. "It is a burden off my shoulders that they still have advocates such as you. I long pondered, I had to do something but the unseen strands that trap the people of this world, who was the ones who simply looked away to survive? Who were the advocates of... vandalism? Did I have the eyes to see them?"
Angela	''You know, if you're struggling with it...'' At least the Ratatoskrs are still being restrained, though the Puppeteer's hostility towards the group seems to be fading. So long as the humanoid puppets aren't targeted, he doesn't seem too worried about what happens to theAbnormalities. ''How long ago did you get like this, then?'' "A month or so after the White Days. Maybe two. I paid little attention to time. I've only been here for three weeks." Tamiel tries attacking... a whole bunch of the Ratatoskrs at once! That actually turns out to be pretty effective. The darkness crushes down upon them and while most simply collapse into the ground, broken, she is able to catch one that shrieks briefly before transforming into an egg state. As she does so, the other Ratatoskrs transform into dessicates husks of former agents. They've been like this for a long while, unless something accelerated their decay. White can restrain the dragon---a pillar comes crashing down upon its back and smushes it into the ground, smothering some of the flames. It struggles to pull itself back up. Aika gets a few good clobbers in with her fist but she might want to peel back for a moment as Veronica charges in with Baker and Seventh. As usual, EGO Gear is particularly effective against Abnormalities--and Veronica's EGO Armor seems particularly suitable for resisting burning shrapnel--that's real bad for fleshy types, less so for building types. She stackles into it, breaking it free from White's stone binding but sending it tumbling down the hall. It shakes it's head furiously and tries to slam right back into Veronica, but it's tiring. "The Abnormality seems to be weakening. Please finish it off so we can proceed with extraction." Lower case e on that one.
White	Having the 'children' clarified and knowing that the abnormalities don't count is a relief. White was convinced for a moment that she'd be expected to slowly energy-drain the big flaming wooden dragon until it stopped fighting, for the sake of gentleness! Even her spy-der does what looks like an attempt at a fist pump next to Rita and the Puppeteer when he clarifies that.      With Veronica and Aika tag-teaming at the front, White takes the opportunity to catch up from her distant position while Nidhoggr is reeling from the former's blows and then dash around to the right side. The first stone pillar broke when Veronica sent the wood-dragon flying, so White hems the beast in with a raised semicircle of stone from the floor against its back, less to physically restrain it this time and moreso just to keep it from backing up and to give Veronica something solid to bash it against when she goes in for round two.      From there, White prepares a revolving set of spell glyphs in front of herself, violet light streaking as they spin like she's trying to imitate a gatling gun; what comes out isn't nearly *that* rapid-fire, but as her Black Spears start firing out at ballista-bolt sizes, the steady twice-a-second *thud, thud, thud* is still plenty menacing. Each 'spear' embeds somewhere in the back or tail of the dragon, keeping away from her frontliner allies as she buries them like stakes across the widest surfaces she can safely hit, so that the decaying effect of her magic can get to work on the organic substance.      She once called to mind the principles of using nails to kill the stump of a felled tree, when she was helping revive M.O.M. via psychonautry. She can't help but wonder if she's going to have to keep specifically killing tree-related monsters like this. Hmm. Maybe Lilian was on to something, complaining about tree analogies so much?
Veronica	Veronica notices the Abnormality's energy already beginning to flag, and smiles to herself. Beating stuff up is among her not-entirely-guilty pleasures. As the wooden dragon charges at her again, she briefly considers deploying her sonic cannons but remembers that she's indoors right now, and that could be a very very bad idea in terms of keeping destruction to a minimum. She could probably dig herself out of a caved-in facility eventually, but could everyone else? And just as importantly, does she want that trouble? No, she does not.     Instead, she tries to 'matador' the Abnormality, stepping out of the way at the last moment. Baker and Seventh is as usual lighter on its feet than it appears to be, animated by psychic impulse. The dragon rushes by, and in the moment that it's still realizing it missed her, Veronica grabs it by the tail. Before it can coil around her EGO's arm, she flicks her wrist upward to whip the snakelike Abnormality against the ceiling, then back down against the floor. She chuckles a little as she twirls the serpent like a flail, using its own extended length to smash its head repeatedly into floor, walls, and ceiling at frightful speed.
Tamiel Luxis	White's response gets Tamiel's attention, her expression coiling into a half-scowl."Then, why did you--" The dragon ripped through the elevator behind them, and suddenly Tamiel's priorities slid back into perspective. White flew to face the dragon, while Tamiel drew her shadows against the rat.     She grimaces at the CRUNCH everything makes, and her eyes linger not on the egg, but the dessicated remains of the agents. It's...grisly. But, in a way that twisted her stomach into a knot, it was a relief. Oh, thank heaven. I was right. The crackling of fire stirred her from her daze, leaving her to kneel down, plucking up the egg and holding it close to her with two arms.     "Um." She says again, to the nothing. "Thanks again..." Tamiel wasn't even sure if he could hear her, or if they'd not fight each other, given how his talk with Rita and Berislav was going. But it felt right.     Tamiel sank into the shadows, darting quickly through the dark...     ...But she was easy enough to see, an inexplicably shadow, outlined in the burning fire of the dragon that nibbled at the roots of the world tree. She darted past it in a jagged motion, climbing back out of it with egg in hand, by Hohenheim.     "...Can you throw it down on the spikes?" She raised her hand, and suddenly the shadows of those in close engagement with the dragon, cast long by the flickering of its flames, coiled together in a circular whirl by the dragon--only for a small forest of long black knives to rip from the ground, right beside the abnormality.
Father Berislav	I'm just The Puppeteer now.     "It's nice to meet you." I see no reason to kill the innocent, though saving them may be beyond me.     "Maybe," says Berislav. "And maybe not. I'll admit that your choice of puppet for your strings... unnerves me," he frowns. "For religious reasons, we'll call it."     "All the same... the part of me that gets me labeled as a terrorist sees that they'd be a very effective psychological weapon for that exact reason."     "We don't choose the shape that our gifts take, but we can choose how to use them, and choose what skills we learn besides. These strings are fragile, but put in the right place, with enough support, they hold up what they need to."     "Saving the innocent is a lot like that. It's delicate, meticulous work. Not always so simple as... swooping in, at the eleventh hour, like you see on TV. Combined with killing evil, it's exhausting, to do on your own. I'm prepared to do both myself--but I can do much, much more, working with like-minded people. People like Rita," he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.     "Give it some thought, Puppeteer. You might find it's a hidden talent. Even if it isn't, the skills you're working on here will be very valuable in helping something beautiful take root here."
Aika Rosewater	Just keep the damage low and make sure not to hit any stray puppets. That's easy enough, between White's own binds, the strings, and the constant pummels. She does have to pull back for a second-- a single bound away, when Baker and Seventh crashes into it. Evidently this last little thing seems to anger it more than the rest.     "None of that! Stay put!"     As it attempts to charge Veronica, Aika kicks back towards it, bounds over its length, to land behind it and grab onto whatever she can. If all it does is slow it down and make it easier for Veronica to dodge, then it's that much won. "...Can you throw it down on the spikes?"     "On it!"     She lets go; she gets launched back, like a rubber band snapping, to hit the wall behind her and then ricochet off it, back towards the Abnormality. Brilliant silver-blue fire in one hand, concentrating all of her energy into one downward punch atop the wooden beast's head as she gets onto it. Shouldn't be too hard to force it down onto Tamiel's spikes!
Rita Ma	"You look so young..."      Rita's smile sadly widens, with a gentle tilt of her head.      For a moment- to tell the truth, she doesn't do this often- she thinks about her own father, who died to protect her and Bota. Rita was only five or six years old, then; Bota remembers his face better than her, and she feels a little guilty for that.      She thinks about the shape of 'parents losing their children'; and about the shape of 'children losing their parents'; and about the shape of her teenage crush's skull beaten in by a cop; and then tries to blot out that last one, with a little twitch of her lips.      "Mmm. I'm not in a hurry to look older, I guess. I don't like scaring people, so..."      She looks back at Berislav, grateful for his presence; steps in, and tilts her head to invite him to follow, too.      If there's another chair in the office, Rita seats herself across from the Puppeteer at the desk. Her thumbs fidget over her clasped hands in her lap, and her gaze tends downwards.      "Did those poor and innocent turn away from the suffering they saw around them?"      The question hangs in the air for a moment. Berislav's speaking, and Rita's in no hurry to interject; still lost in her thoughts. His hand landing on her shoulder perks her up.      "Ah- sorry. I was just..." Eyes towards the Puppeteer. "Thinking about things I've lost." Back up to Berislav: "It is a lot easier, just knowing we're not alone. Thank you, Mr. Berislav."      Then her lips part, and she tries to answer it, after a little adjusting squirm.      "After... our parents died, my brother and I had to take care of each other. We didn't have very much. One time, he gave our last coin to an old lady who was being evicted. And she gave us a couple of flower seeds, because that's all she had, too..." Her hands squeeze together for a second, because there's a lot she's leaving out; a bloody hole she's talking around.      "I think people who hardly have anything are the most generous, Mr. Puppeteer. Maybe they can't protect anyone, and they don't have much to give... but they give what they can. I think that's important. I don't know for sure, but I think Ms. Carmen did, too."
Angela	''Even her spy-der does what looks like an attempt at a fist pump.'' The Puppeteer wasn't thinking much of the spy-der honestly until he catches that little fist pump and all the gravitas is temporarily dispelled when he says, "Did...did that spider just pose?" He crouches down to examine the spyder with a quiet fascination. He reaches towards it and--then jerks his hand back, takes hold of his wrist with his other hand, and stands himself up. The dragon is flung back into the stone behind it. It crouches down as it realizes it's cornered and it hisses at Veronica. The spears slam into it's body as rot starts overtaking the wood, accelerating with each black spear that slams into it's body. "You seem adept at battling entities like this one." Manual admits but she's still pretty pleased with herself that White can't become a bus so she's not too upset at the expression of talent and skill despite programmed arrogance. The dragon attempts to spew more flame, but Hohenheim extends out that electrical field again, deflecting the assault before it can impact against White, Veronica, or Tamiel. He leans against the wall after. He is still not entirely accustomed to this EGO, apparently. Tamiel summons some spikes from the ground and the dragon lunges at Veronica, taking offense with her specifically--maybe because her EGO represents a kind of civilization? And this dragon, of course, is named after one that chews at the roots of the world. But Veronica is more agile than the dragon expects, she avoids the tackle and catches the dragon by the tail, slamming it up into the--well, the ceiling is actually pretty high up there, but fortunately Tamiel has those spikes right? That seems like it'll be a good choice. And there's the walls, of course. Veronica slams the dragon into the wall and then up and---- The tail breaks off, sending the dragon flying into the air! It was more fragile than it looked! But fortunately, Aika springboards off a wall and slams into the creature's back so that it can be sent tumbling down HARD against those spikes which puncture entirely through numerous points along its hide. It collapses to the floor and turns into a large wooden egg right there. ''Berislav.'' Maybe it's a lack of imagination the Puppeteer had, but he considers Berislav's words--but ultimately is given an opportunity to think about it rather than make an immediate decision. That seems good enough for him. He's been given a lot to think about. "I will think over of what your party has had to say. I will find ... likeminded people and see what they have to say, too." ''I don't like scaring people, so...'' The Puppeteer thinks it would be a better world that wasn't scared of someone like her. Except maybe a little. A little bit of fear is good protection but a lot of fear is a target. ''I think people who hardly have anything are the most generous, Mr. Puppeteer.'' "Maybe...I wasn't looking in the right places..." He murmurs. "You both have been kind to me. I'm not such a villain that I won't give your words proper credence. And I'm sorry--for your parents ... but I am glad you still had someone to look after you--and for you to look after. Once you look after someone ... it opens your eyes." He turns to Berislav. "I hope our paths align in the future but for now ... I want to confirm for myself, the generous ones."
Angela	With the Puppeteer pacified and the Abnormalities defeated, there is little stopping the team just dragging those eggs back up except for the fact those are very big eggs, though there's certainly people strong enough to bring them back up and, of course, White can just teleport them. "It seems that this could have gone a lot worse if I hadn't had your team with us. Manual was correct to contact you." "Of course Manual was. Manual is a genius." Manual repeats, her gaze focusing on White for a long moment. "But with courtesy to..." Hohenheim hesitates. "...To our new friend," He dips his head to the Puppeteer. Always be thankful to someone who has decided not to kill you, that's his motto of the day. "I would rather not linger in the dark. If he still has work here to do, I'd rather not disrupt his work any further." "I remember your face, Hohenheim, from long ago. Scientific journals. They once said you'd revolutionize the City with your work." "I will." Hohenheim says nonchalantly. "But here you are, getting your hands in the thick of the muck. They always can find new 'madmen' for their endless need of new toys." The Puppeteer says. "Hold onto those embers of an ideal you have..." Hohenheim pushes up his glasses and exhales a frustrated little sigh. "...I'm well aware, I was almost buried--just like the people here. I have no intention of forgetting what my work is for, no matter how labyrinthine the path." The Puppeteer bobs his head, intent on letting everyone do as they will.
White	The spy-der might not have much in the way of facial expressions outside of White's own head, but it can still imitate things like nervous glancing by doing little one-eighth-turn hops to either side. It *could* have just played it off as a coincidental gesture, but White's little clones tend to double down when called out; the comedic mindset is ingrained in them, as part of what makes them cute after all. It even wipes its forehead on the side of a tiny scytheblade foreleg, as if it were sweating when the Puppeteer reached out and then backed off. Altogether the creature seems content to be a background observer though, and tries to emphasize that by climbing up Berislav's leg to perch on his shoulder, halfway behind his head. White's not exactly familiar with the Father, but he just generally seems less likely to have a biting reflex...      Manual's observation about White is simple, and true. "Big targets... Are easier." She's familiar with fighting dragons in particular too, but getting into the weeds about how they're different or similar to this one is just too much for her to bother with just now. The 'dragon' becomes an egg after the tag-team attack from the others, which is frankly a very helpful way to know when the fight is over compared to trying to keep track of an HP bar or, god forbid, check for a pulse. White waves her arm and scatters the remaining energy of her embedded Black Spears, some of them having already spent their charge and crumbling when Nidhoggr fell while others dropped to heavily stab the floor instead, before being dispelled. If someone asks for help, she can certainly move the eggs... But hey, why volunteer for labor if the others can handle it? Maybe she'll jump in if it looks like they're having trouble, but it doesn't seem likely.      So, instead, what is it she does? Well, she's been thinking something in the back of her mind during the fight. Not enough to distract her, but... Enough to stick. She vanishes from Information, teleporting herself to the doorway of the room that Rita, Berislav, and her mini-clone have been listening to the Puppeteer in. She gently, politely knocks on the doorframe (probably imitating Rita's manners, really), wordlessly steps inside, and fishes around in her sleeve for something.      It doesn't take her long to find one of her 'practice' teddy bears, made from her silk. There are still some loose threads and it's still entirely silk-white, so it's not a completely finished product, but regardless she reaches out to offer it to the Puppeteer. If he's nervous about reaching his hands out, like with the spy-der, she'll just set it on a counter or some other flat surface nearby. The sentiments Rita and Berislav are sharing with him are, admittedly, a bit more meaningful. White still can't wrap her head around all of that anyway. Instead, she tries to convey what she's thinking with just two words. "Practice hard." It's not like she was always able to make things; her thread was for hunting from the start. But now, she can do both.
Rita Ma	"You both have been kind to me."      "I don't feel like I've done much, but... thank you, Mr. Puppeteer. I try." Rita smiles down at the desk, shoulders squished a little. "Let me know if I can help you, um, settle into your new life at all."      "And I'm sorry--for your parents ..."      "Mmm. It was... almost twenty years ago, now." Rita lifts a hand, holding it nearish her own heart, and spaces out trying to find words for a moment. Then her eyes lift to meet (one of) the Puppeteer's, again.      "When someone important leaves you, there's always a hole. I don't think it ever closes. But even if it stays the same size... the rest of you can still grow. That's all."      Hands on her knees, she stands herself up to leave just as White knocks on the door.      "Ah, Ms. White, he's--"      'Friendly', she's probably about to say, but the words dissolve when she sees the hand-woven teddy bear. Her hand drops to her side as her mouth forms a silent 'awwww'.      "Ms. White is a very good weaver," Rita informs the Puppeteer quite seriously (at least, as seriously as she can while holding in a little adoring giggle). "But I'm sure you can meet her standards. I'm a little jealous."
Father Berislav	Berislav enters the office after Rita and takes a seat, assuming one is available. He's never minded standing in the absence of seating. Hands folded neatly in his lap, he listens attentively, nodding along. I will find ... likeminded people and see what they have to say, too.     "I'm glad." He smiles. "Not just for the reasons you might think, either. To decide to be near people again, to let them in, despite evil that was done to you--that's an act of defiance against evil."     "One day," says Berislav, "Sooner than you may think, you'll see very, very many of them, those like-minded people, walking side by side. When that day comes, you'll have spoken to enough of them to know what do to."     I hope our paths align in the future but for now ... I want to confirm for myself, the generous ones."Peace be with you," says Berislav. He inclines his head respectfully towards the Puppeteer, then leaves the office. I have no intention of forgetting what my work is for, no matter how labyrinthine the path.     His stride pauses, his eyes briefly sweeping to one side to regard Hohenheim. "They're persistent, aren't they? Those gardeners of sin. Every day, a trial is had, for the fate of your immortal soul. You haven't forgotten the Adversary--but don't forget that we're all given an Advocate, too."     "I'll be waiting outside when you're ready to leave."
Angela	''Every day, a trial is had.'' "...I'm not working alone either, as you know." Hohenheim tells Berislav, his expression seemingly permanently both exhausted and a bit put upon. But aside from that, he doesn't seem too bothered. Despite his seeming confidence bordering on arrogance, he doesn't seem to particularly care about how he's perceived. "I don't want to leave Alyssa waiting too long." He was happy to linger in here as long as necessary but now that the job is done, he's even more eager to fuck off. Maybe the Puppeteer hit a nerve or he reasonably isn't sure what to expect from a guy whose face that's impossible to read. But as tired as Hohenheim seems, the Puppeteer seems even more drained, like there's only one thing left at all that's animating him. An invisible string that gives him enough purpose to keep moving. Not uncommon amongst those of The City. The Puppeteer is quiet as Rita speaks of how long it had been, for her. It feels impossibly long to continue on--but maybe it's different for the children than it is for the parents, he has to imagine. ''Practice hard.'' The Puppeteer instantly understands the purpose of the bear. He can even see the torn strings, still dangling. He carefully takes the bear into his hands and he says, "I...will. I hate to say it again, but thank you ... for your kindness. I hardly know you but..." His own strings near invisible coil around a hand on the plush bear. It waves at White. It's weirdly cute despite all the, like, bodies around here and all. Manual, unbeknownst to Hohenheim, is staring at White again, though it's a different flavor than last time. Before it was just curiousity, but now there's some confusion mixed in. "Why did you give him that bear?" She asks. "Was it simply due to similar abilities making it efficient to offer?" But other than that, Hohenheim's team returns to the bus without issue and at least this facility isn't going to release a horde of Abnormalities upon the City anytime soon.
White	It's strangely flattering to be complimented on her weaving at a time like this, let alone thanked for kindness. White doesn't feel like she's been especially kind; if Rita and Berislav weren't going the route they were from the start, she wouldn't have bothered with a gesture like this at all. She gently shakes her head, as if to say it's not a big deal, and turns to leave following Berislav after a shallow bow of her head. She's a little relieved that her intentions were understood, and that she doesn't need to linger much longer; her spider-clone jumps from Berislav's shoulder to White's, freeing him up to do as he pleases without the tail or obstruction.      Manual's question does get her a little hung up inside her head though. It probably looks like she didn't have much of a reason at all, but after a substantial pause to think, her eyes closing and offering even less to interpret from her, she finally admits... "... It's hard... To be good... If you can't... Be proud of yourself. I used to... Only be good... For fighting. And I almost... Stopped being a person."
Angela	Manual is Manual. Decidedly not a person by the standards of The City and not a person by the standards of Manual. And all she says is, "Understood." Nevertheless, Manual will remember that answer.