That was one way of putting it. Stanley had to admit that they even after Arsuran he still wasn't used to places like this. Seeing buildings where the sky should be was somehow less unusual than what looked like green clouds.



"I don't think we are planning on staying here long. We are just tourists..." Stanley says. Unless Trav says he shouldn't, he tells Janeth. "Not that I mind telling you that I am a doctor. "
This message was last edited by the player at 20:46, Sun 23 Apr 2017.

Trav simply says, somewhat sadly - "I am the last Time Lord. In exchange for your generosity, my science, my history, and labor is at your disposal. However, my ship and it's contents are sacrosanct. It is my home, and aside from my loved ones here, all I have left, so I can't give that away."

She brightens a little. "I'm here to help. I'm pretty good at science, and invention, and I've seen a lot of history, and I've lived a few lives. I'm sure that there's something my mind and hearts can offer you. I can also sew and cook. I'm a scholar, by trade. Maybe I can give you copies of volumes from my library? Or tales that I have heard or seen?"

"Stanley Newton is the best medical doctor I know. Stanley, I think that the price for spending time here is a good faith trade of services, goods or skills."

Without a full how-you-do in the offing, Smoke Alarm made do with just a warrior's curtsey, then outlooked rather puzzled at the welcoming mat being given to them by these people. But she caught the offer of healing: mayhaps this was like a Rezzie's holiday home or retirement village and would be a good place for Traveller to sleep-tight and relax on the couch knitting after her big change.

'Things we can do?' Smoke clarified, wondering. 'Well, I can wallscrawl and arrowgun and knowhow and Kang Fu and catch-me-if-you-can...' she listed off on her fingers.

"You have it exactly, ma'am.  The goal of the Habisphere is to serve as a commonwealth promoting the full realization of each visitor's well-being and ability.  To that end each visitor is asked to share the fruit and the philosophy of their particular experience and skills, whether those fall in the spheres of art, science, craft, or simple knowledge.  In the fullest sense of the term Hathtotep is a university."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:34, Mon 24 Apr 2017.

Trav's eyes light up when Janeth says university.

"Oh goodness. Teaching, research, learning?"

If only I could have been Louise and been here.

"Not this time. Some days, my Sweet Boy lets me steer him. Other days, he steers me."

It appears that Ches is continuing to take down the travelers' information, even if he may not be crystal clear on what wallscrawling or Kang Fu might be.  Meanwhile Halan has moved off to speak privately with a few of the onlookers still standing by, who disperse after he has done so.

"Allow me to suggest that you take the opportunity to explore the district a bit, to find for yourself what the Habisphere can offer you," Janeth says.  "I would particularly call to your attention the Collegium, for those whose interests lie along the intellectual paths; the Circus of Arms, for persons inclined toward pursuits of physical excellence; or there is always the Grand Bazaar, a center for general cultural interchange."

More tiny flying bots descend on the group, one taking up an orbit near each of the travelers.  "If you require any additional guidance or assistance, your familiar should be able to provide it."

'...And skip-hop and wubstep,' Smoke Alarm continued for Ches's benefit, who somehow interested in all she could do. And she could do a lot. 'And lost-and-found and...'

She broke off when the flying robot descended upon her, zipping and circling about her blue head. 'Flying cleaners!' she yelped, ducking and trying to bat the thing away.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:18, Thu 27 Apr 2017.

"Please do not interfere with the functioning of this unit," the buzz-bot accosting Smoke Alarm protests, darting and bobbing out of reach.  "This unit is a navigational and informational aid.  Sanitation, grooming and waste disposal are no part of this unit's functionality."

Smoke Alarm was not reassured, nor listening. 'I don't want any! Go away!'
This message was last edited by the player at 05:19, Tue 25 Apr 2017.

The Traveller shakes her head in worry. "Smoke Alarm is from a place where mechanical devices were hostile. She took a long time to get used to the mechanicals aboard my ship."

"No,no, Smoke - they're like the scutters, they just talk. They're not cleaners, it even said so!"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:45, Tue 25 Apr 2017.

'Mayhaps! But I don't want it flapping 'round me and Puddy!'
This message was last edited by the player at 05:31, Tue 25 Apr 2017.

She growled slightly, tensing up, her spear at her side; but she didn't say anything for now. She was still a bit lost - where was the Citadel?

"This unit apologizes for inadvertently triggering any automaton-specific anxiety disorders," says the bot.  "The Habisphere is a place of personal enrichment.  Exposure therapy is available to assist in treating individuals for a wide variety of common phobias, should assistance be desired."

Ches is continuing to pore over his slate.  "Ah.  I knew something sounded familiar here," he says.  "According to this, a Professor D'jon-jon X!escati, Lecturer-Practitioner in Urban Tribal Esoterica, has scheduled an exhibition of Early Neoclassical Wubstep at the Peremin Conservatory later this evening.  You might be able to assist him in his research, miss!"

'Wah?' worriedly began Smoke Alarm, who had knowhow of mayhaps one word in nine of all this. While the chattering flying cleaner was distractified, she skipped away from it, her attention caught by Ches. Something icehot at last, mayhaps! 'I heared wubstep?'

"What do I call you? Just unit or do you have a name?" Stanley asks the bot that is orbiting him.

"This unit's primary designation is a sixteen-kilobit binary identifier.  This unit is capable of responding to a user-defined designation if one is desired for more convenient disambiguation purposes."

"Indeed, miss."  Ches shows her an image projected on his slate.  It displays a brown-skinned man with small round-rimmed spectacles, a dark formal-looking collarless suit, and amazing long moustaches and dreadlocks.  He's holding something that, while oddly colored and patterned to Smoke Alarm's eyes, has the unmistakable shape and look of a wubble-board.

"The Conservatory can be found... oh... roughly... there...." Ches explains hesitantly, trying to point up through the weird jumble of buildings.  "I'm sorry if the familiars alarm you, but they're the most commonly used guides for getting around.  Routes and paths through the Habisphere can be, well, changeable and they are in constant communication the best sources of information."

Smoke's flybot is hanging back at a distance now that Smoke has made her displeasure with it known.  If it is possible for a tiny hovering bird-bot to appear contrite and dejected, it does.

'Wubstep!' Smoke Alarm gasped in amazement. It was betterer than skip-hop! She took a foot toward the Tower Ches had show-and-telled, then stop-signed, footing back to Traveller's side. 'Um, but I have to outlook for Traveller, coz she's not shape-ship and sound right now...' she began, a bit dejectedly. But it was important that she outlook for Trav and keep her sound-and-safe, more important even than wubstep. It was probably some Inbetween's silly wubstep anyhow.

'And I don't want the bird-cleaner chasing me neither, coz then I have to run from it. If I want knowhow or for it to show-and-tell you-are-here, I'll track back and ask one.' she offered, grudgingly.

"Remembering sixteen-kilobits might be a bit difficult for me." Stanley says. "Let's call you...uh...Tobias. Back when I was still studying to become a doctor, I knew a guy called Tobias, and since this place is a university it is sort of fitting. Is that name okay with you?"

"Entirely salutary, sir," replies Tobias.  "How may I assist or direct you?"

The Traveller digs in her bag, and finds a new-old phone - a worn out Samsung Galaxy phablet of some kind.

"Everyone, test you phones. I think I need a spa treatment, then I am going to give a lecture. Hm. Chibi. Are you there?"

An avatar indeed pops up. But instead of the 2nd Traveller done in kawaii form, the little program looks like a familiar blonde time traveler. "I'm always here, baby!"

The Traveller fondly smiles. "It looks like you changed, too. I hope you're feeling OK with the new integration and upgrade. Can you do me a favor and check the local data infrastructure? If you can get onto what the analogue for social media is here, send out this announcement - "I'M A TIME TRAVELLER AND MY BODY HAS JUST CHANGED. ASK ME ANYTHING." Schedule it for 4 local hours ahead of now, in a free local plaza and ampitheater. And order sangria and tacos. Hm, tacos."

Trav turns to the bird like familiar. "Hello. I've just changed. If at all possible, if you can direct me to a local spa so that I can relax, maybe get some new clothes, and bring a tray with some tools and parts. I feel the twin needs for exfoliation and to create something. In exchange, I'll be happy to give a talk. I've traveled from one end of the time stream to the other. I think I have a few things to offer."

She turns to Stanley. "You're my general practicioner, Stanley. Do you want to give me a once over? I'm mostly... done. Mostly." She cricks her neck.

Trav turns back to everyone else. "So, while I hunt for shiatsu and a makeover, please, enjoy this place, but let's stay in touch with phones, yes?"

After answering questions and chatting with the team, Trav pops back into the TARDIS for a moment. From the wrecked scrap heap she has in her bag her two pistols. She tells her familiar - "These weapons are deactivated, here are their clips. I'm going to be reconstructing them. Please download to my phone your security and weapons policies and send to my associates as well - we want to be good guests."

Hm, already seems like she is settling in.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:01, Fri 28 Apr 2017.

Kalath didn't need any urging to slink off and explore. Of course, she didn't draw attention to the fact she had her spear, if not her bow. She also didn't point out that 'phones' was not something she was familiar with. She knew though that the Citadel had to be around here someplace. Traveller and her friends were just playing some kind of prank on her. But she'd find it, yes she would!

"Kalath!" Trav trots over to her. "Here. I don't want to lose you, like I lost Phillipe. Here, this is a phone. You talk into it, and I can hear you from another one, from far away. This is science." She pauses for a moment.

"Carry this with you, so we can find you, and you can find us. We're a pack now. We can't hunt alone. You're far, far away from home."

She presses a beat up old flip phone into her hand.

OOC: Spending 1 SP for resourceful pockets, for a Kalath friendly phone.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:15, Fri 28 Apr 2017.