"This is what I'm saying!" Billy says, throwing out his hands at Frank, "Usually people don't see the point until I actually accomplish something, welcome onboard the 'entire universe is crazypants' train. This isn't even a new level of crazy for me, I already knew about the voice.  Roger knows about the voice!  He told me," Billy shakes his head.  "Imagine debriefing a random stranger about the mole men brainwashing giant parasites with high tech collars that let them hear the commands of the planet-mind they worship as a god, but that's only one faction of moleciety, don't get me started on the rest." He gesticulates as if the conspiracy-theory-sounding recounting of information is just casual conversation before abruptly planting his hands on his hips, "Yeah, that's just the newest shit I've been dealing with.  Run back some of our previous conversations with that lens in your pocket.  Who's the crazy asshole now?  The universe, that's who."

When the Talpid replies, Billy looks at him, incredulous but with his helmet mostly masking the expression, "Oh yeah, please clamp your brainwash collar on one of us, that'd be great.  No, you tell me how to operate it.  I know a few people who could stand to hear your voice, but I'm not doing it in a dark cave where you can pull whatever bullshit you like."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:34, Tue 23 Apr.

In reply to Billy Laser Fist (msg # 704):

Aviva nods energetically as Billy gets worked up.

Oh yeah, that would be super crazy!

If I remembered anything you just said.

Right, it's hard to keep track of it all.

Aviva's hand twitches on her pistol.  ?su skcatta eh nehw ydaer eb ew naC

Can we have Roger, um Aviva twiddles her hands dramatically vapor magic it?

Team Hiveblazers II

"Operate it?" the talpid frowns. "We do not exert any outside control. It cannot be 'turned on' or 'activated.' Once it is securely emplaced, the Voice will speak or not, as it wills."

He listens carefully to Billy's diatribe, scratching his rear with a heavy digging claw while waiting for a lull in the conversation.

"We do not worship the Voice, nor do we consider it a god. It is a world...no less, but no more. The Voice holds the will of the planet, and our continued survival here depends upon adhering to its commands."

The talpid cocks his head to the side.

"You are perhaps aware that this is not my people's homeworld. It is an adopted planet, and we have made quite a mess of it. The Voice will guide us home, it says, once we have cleaned up after ourselves."

Wait... this Voice thing can cut through the jamming? Aviva raises an eyebrow toward Billy

That sounds useful, if we can reconstruct how it works

"Oh god, are you a new faction?" Billy moans as the Talpid clarifies their relation to the voice of Ceto, "So we have the deep dweller who I have an appointment in a week... no I guess five days now?  The old deep dweller, who's in Exilium?  Was?" Billy glances at Frank and Aviva for any kind of confirmation, "And a Joss? There's the ones who were living under Havetplata, and now you, who follow the voice of Ceto.  Unless you can make my life easier and it turns out you're part of the other three?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:01, Tue 23 Apr.

In reply to The Watcher (msg # 706):

Sure sure. Of course the world God just wants you to recycle a bit and then will escort you through the wildly impregnable barricade of destruction. It seems so obvious now

Frank turns to Billy and mouths an exasperated Holy shit before turning back to the Talpid and opining, I think I'm still admittedly slow on the uptake here, but I'm finding myself curious exactly when and how you got here, and perhaps more pertinently, how exactly you made or came into possession of the collar to begin with?

Frank pantomimes removing an item from her pocket before pinching her thumb and forefinger together and holding them to her eye like a monocle focused on Billy, A bit embarrassing and more than a bit humbling. You'd like to think you're tolerant enough to believe if not accept a different world view on merit, but to my discredit, I had to see it to believe it. My own experiences presented themselves to me as an extreme view on humanity and life in the universe.

Turns out they were all just an amuse bouche.

She grits her teeth before swallowing audibly and  adding with chaste I'm sorry I was an ass. Admittedly, your sales pitch needs work, but the fault lies with me. I've met many snake oil salesmen in my life but you're the first who has actually met the snake. Wasn't ready for it, still might not be, but no use denying it out of wounded ego.

She puts her monocle back into her pocket, reshoulders the tendril, and cheerfully inquires, What's next?

Roger's expression softens and drops. He thinks for a moment then shakes his head.

"Man, it's just not right," Roger says, punching the post of a bunk bed. His face twists up in discomfort as he shakes his hand, then opens and closes it a few times.

"Monument," Roger says, finally. "And we'll lay her to rest somewhere out there." He points in the direction of the lift, then goes back to rubbing his sore knuckles. "For now, let's get her in here."

Roger invites Hilda and anyone else to help move Ibis into the coffin, sheet and all. He'll apply the cementing paste once she's situated.

"Rebecca, how much more time do you need with the parasites? That's a bio-accident waiting to happen. If you need equipment to speed it up, let me know. Bill's gonna want that disposed of when he gets back I'll bet."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:27, Tue 23 Apr.

"I'll grant you, 'everything is bullshit and the universe is crazy' sounds like a worse sales pitch for world peace when you're not neck deep in it, but it's hard to remember what that's like when the hits keep coming," he gestures to the talpid demonstratively, "I don't care if you're an ass, just save it for when I've actually done something instead of doing it when I've not done something..." Billy trails off, apparently losing the thread of his acceptance(?) of her apology, "Look, I'm an ass too, but I've never assumed I'm better than anyone. So don't apologize for it, but don't do it again until I've actually earned it.  I'm sure I will fuck something up sooner or later."

In reply to Billy Laser Fist (msg # 711):

Yep, you will! Aviva agrees brightly

Aviva sticks up one finger as if about to make a deep observation.

Aviva shakes her head and shushes her.  Not yet

Team HiveBlazers II

"My people were brought here against our will long ago by the self-appointed lords and ladies of the Liereblomst," the talpid replies to Frank. "They did the same to the Joss before our arrival, but found them to be a less than industrious culture poorly suited to the hard labor they expected of their workforce."

"Our so-called masters set up many mines and factories, protected the planet from unauthorized access, and took their leave...likely to exploit some other world with some other enslaved people. They left us here under the lash of their drones. Every so often, a ship comes by that their robotic servitors fill with materials gathered from the mines or built in the factories and send along on its way."

The talpid grins slightly.

"But no longer. My people have escaped, and the factories and mines are silent. Perhaps the Liereblomst is aware of this, for it has been quite some time since the last ship arrived, as well."

When Billy speaks openly of various factions, the talpid snorts. Whether this distracts him from Frank's inquiry about the collar or merely serves to cover his unwillingness to discuss its origins is unclear.

"Your knowledge of our situation is imperfect. There are three factions vying for control of my people: the idealistic Down Dweller, who is an exiled Joss yet was still raised to a place of authority; the revolutionary Ponce, who usurped the Down Dweller from the capital and now rules the majority of the burrows; and those like me, who adhere to the Voice's will."

He pauses for a moment, puzzled.

"There were talpids living beneath Hevetplata?"

Team Post-Op

"I've only just begun to study them!" Rebecca protests, looking alarmed. "This may be our only opportunity to study this particular example of alien biology and its effects on human minds. We can't destroy them yet. Especially since we don't know for sure if Lincoln and Fu-Chi will fully recover."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:52, Wed 24 Apr.

Billy grins behind his helmet at the Talpid’s question, “Imperfect knowledge seems to be a thing that’s going around,” he says coyly, “How long has it been since the last Liereblomst ship?  Your kin under Havetplata think your old master’s technology is their birthright. They endeavor to turn it to their own ends and they seemed interested in taking themselves off of this planet.” He outlines his understanding of Dolom’s faction without tipping his hand about the ambassador to the increasingly talkative mole.

In reply to Billy Laser Fist (msg # 714):

"Okay! Okay!" Roger says, throwing up his hands at Nightmare's objection. "Just... nobody put them in anyone's ears or mouths or anything... including your own," he huffs.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in my cocoon of serenity"

He materializes a floating ball chair. Its plush interiors and circular form envelop him in a gentle embrace, the soft cushions conforming perfectly to his body. After Roger gets situated and closes his eyes, the orb tilts backwards slightly, transforming into a secluded, zero-gravity recliner.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 15:35, Wed 24 Apr.

Living there, digging there, planting bombs there

Yeah, they negotiated a lot like you do, come to think of it...

In reply to Aviva (msg # 716):

Team Hiveblazers II

"It has been a great many cycles since the last ship came," the talpid replies. "They are very late, if indeed they still mean to come at all."

He frowns to consider the revelation concerning another faction of talpid.

"Their technology IS our birthright. But any attempt to leave this planet while it remains in such a sorry state is contrary to the Voice's will. All talpid know this, or have at least been told. Their efforts will be met with nothing but tragedy and catastrophe, mark my words."

We are really pushing the limits of my understanding and ability to track the factional interests, so if I'm out of line or crazy here take it with a grain of salt

Frank takes a deep breath as though she's convincing herself in real time to speak her truth, she exhales and silently inquires You've got a telepath, or someone mentally gifted back on the ship, don't you Billy? Would it be worth giving them the collar and actually ASKING this thing what it wants? There's so much assuming and incorrect information impacting whole races here.

Why not give management a call and cut to the chase?

"So, according to Roger, he used to have a guy who's a... geopath?  I dunno, he could control dirt, and/or rocks and shit.  And that guy made contact with the voice of Ceto, all by his lonesome, and is now mind blank or something in Invictus.  I dunno, we can ask him specifics, but I'm not eager to shove that onto anyone else.  If I had my druthers I'd give Xander a shot, he's got a backup consciousness if everything goes very poorly, but he's manning the mech outside town making sure Brigg's crew wasn't going to double back and cause more trouble, so that's a later solution at best.  Nightmare's got some psychic powers but... if 'management' is more aggressive than our little mole friend suggests, I don't want her going berserk." Billy looks at Frank flatly, not caring how much of his expression is masked by his helmet in the dark, "It would be exceptionally not good."

He sighs and turns back to the talpid, "We're taking your collar.  We're gonna talk to your voice somewhere we feel more comfortable about it, and we'll see what it has to say firsthand.  I'd offer to fix your leg, but the voice shot my healer in her head, so count yourself lucky I didn't return the favor.  You hobble your way back to the rest of your people and tell them there are new humans in town who are amenable to actual negotiations but respond poorly to violence.  If one more mole man opens with threats I will shoot him before making a counter offer.  And not like that," he indicates the talpid's injured leg, before pointing to the formerly ambulatory rubble, "I will shoot him like that."

In reply to Billy Laser Fist (msg # 719):

What?  No, that was me. Aviva clarifies

Aviva shakes her head, he already knows that, she gestures toward the Talpid

But HE doesn't

No, but he'll see it when it already happened

In reply to Aviva (msg # 720):

Team Hiveblazers II

The talpid looks as though he wants to object, but something about the tone of Billy's voice (or perhaps the caliber of his cannon) gives him pause.

"Very well," he says at last. "Take it. Listen to what the Voice has to say. I have every confidence we'll meet again and, when we do, it shall be as allies."

With that, the talpid turns and (slowly, painfully) hobbles away, leaving Billy, Frank, and Aviva without a backward glance.

Frank whistles cheerfully, Now I've kicked a lot of my asses in my day, but that's the first time it ended with them thanking me for the privilege and pledging allegiance.

I would very much like to learn more about this special brand of laser diplomacy

“Laser diplomacy?  I like that, gotta remember it.  You can ask the teenager when she’s not busy.  She’s been taking notes.” Billy suggests to Frank as he joins her in hefting the tentacle and walking it back toward the guest house, assuming Aviva will be in tow if she doesn’t join in the carrying.

In reply to Billy Laser Fist (msg # 723):

Hi ho!

Aviva hefts part of the tentacle and starts hauling with great enthusiasm though not always in the same direction as anyone else or even as herself.  On balance, she ends up neither helping nor hindering the effort much.

In reply to Aviva (msg # 724):

Team Hiveblazers II

Billy, Aviva, and Frank face no further difficulty beyond the strenuous labor involved in dragging the heavy, fleshy mass and its metal accessory all the way back to the Guest House, where they find things a bit different than they left them.

Ibis's body is nowhere to be seen, and in its place is a tightly sealed wooden coffin. Hilda and Fenwick and chatting quietly among themselves, and Briggs is kicking back in his hammock, very much no longer in any form of restraints.

Lincoln and Fu-Chi are likewise in their bunks, looking no better and no worse for wear.

Wren and Gestalt are flanking Rebecca with no small amount of tension as the Chief Science Officer taps and prods at three specimen jars that definitely weren't there when you left, each of which is filled with a walnut-sized pellet.

Roger, for his part, seems to have built himself a floating armchair and is zoned out while reclining within it.

MERGE TEAMS
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:46, Wed 01 May.

In reply to The Watcher (msg # 725):

"Finally, someone she'll listen to," Gestalt says, apparently overlooking the tentacle for the moment as the away team rejoins the larger group. "Can you please tell our beloved science officer here to stop playing with dangerous parasites and let me destroy them?"

In reply to Gestalt (msg # 726):

"For once, we are in agreement," Wren says, nodding curtly in Gestalt's direction. "And while I don't require your permission to destroy them, I would prefer that we were of one mind on this."

She raises an eyebrow as the heavy tendril is dragged into the room and tossed on the ground with a fleshy WUMF.

"What in the frozen hell is that?"

In reply to Wren (msg # 727):

Aviva drops the tentacle and Shatner-rolls across the floor, coming up in a crouch with weapon trained on Briggs.

Keep your hands where I can see them, she warns

He's going to kidnap someone, Aviva notes, resting one hand on Aviva's back to steady her aim.

Probably best to restrain him, she looks toward Roger, then Billy.