"What?  A crumb?"

"I don't think...  Ah... " Dworkin disengages his hand from Tahirah's and takes Banglen-Yp's in both of his.    "No.  You're the Unicorn.  Don't you remember?"

"Or are you something else?  A crumb of scre'ath, you suspect.  But if you were a crumb, you've changed so much that you're no longer recognisable as such.  Very interesting."

"I should study you.  Where did I leave that bottle?"

Across the room, the bottle falls over, with a sound as loud as thunder, and rolls, oh so slowly, towards the edge of the table...

Imminent.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:23, Tue 06 July 2010.

Calm.  Unflappable.  Tahirah has stood unflinching, her very robes barely rippling, through the hurricane at Cardiangart.  She evidenced not a twitch when Bangen-Yp underwent a series of transformations that could only be accurately described as `exploding' mere feet in front of her in Random's throne room.

When the thunder cracks through the room, though, she jumps.

If the sudden startled movement is accompanied by any sort of small shriek, however, this detail is lost in the much louder noise.

The white robes flare with the movement, the hood dropping even lower over her face, as she turns towards the bottle.  She curls her arms in front of herself, crossing her hands into opposite sleeves.

The bottle rolls to the edge of the table, the rumbling sound of its motion growing on volume.

Then silence, as it drops off the edge.

It hits the floor with a sound like the breaking of worlds, and bounces.  Once.  Dworkin lets go of Banglen-Yp's hand, and turns towards the sound.  The second impact, the bottle strikes at a different angle, and shatters.

And two people are standing there, while fragments of glass (too many for that small bottle, surely?) are still spinning and skittering and dancing across the floor around them.  One of them is Luke.  The other is... not.

Dworkin glowers at Banglen-Yp, "You shouldn't have distracted me.  Now it's out."

The second person, a naked woman, apparently composed entirely of ice, moves to stand behind Luke.  + I am not here to injury anybody. + she explains in a voice that sounds like ice cracking, + It was simple curiosity which drew me here, not some intent to cause harm. +

"'It's out'?  How complimentary."  Luke's eyes burned with wild hilarity above his shark-toothed grin.  "Let's not do anything rash, here - like she says, my friend and I aren't looking for a fight."  Invisible energies danced about him, prepared to protect should Dworkin level his vast power against either former prisoner.

A call went out on that instant, sent along a pathway nigh-impossible to trace.

Rolling his shoulders, Luke ducked his head; when it rose again, his pearly-whites had straightened, their sharp points gone.  The picture of urbanity, he bowed fractionally to the small group.  "Tahirah, Banglen-Yp, cat...thing, good to see you three.  And in one piece each - better and better.  Aaron, you've rejoined us.  All present and accounted for.  Amy, the taller, un-bent ones ad the quadruped are part of the group I told you about.  Group, this is Amy."  Better not to use her full name around the vicious dwarf.  And speaking of which....

His eyes focused on the old man.  "I could try explaining, couldn't I?  But you'd twist anything I said back on itself somehow.  I-"  His eyes fell upon the seething, twisting mass at the heart of Dworkin's construct.  "What...is that?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:03, Mon 12 July 2010.

"Oh, Luke. How fine of you to re-join us." Aaron sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked upon their new visitor with a hint of recognition, though just for the species and not specifically as an individual.

"Oh, that?" Aaron gestured to the thing Dworkin was handling. "It's apparently a scre'ath. Nothing much. It just eats anything. Furniture. People. Whole realities." He scratched the back of his head. "If I'm not mistaken, I'm fairly sure Dworkin here indicated he created a whole new Pattern just to find it."

He smiled a half-smile in Luke's direction. "How about you? Run into anything as new or interesting as what we've come across?"

"Stuffed in a prison, bumped into a Sencathi...par for the course around here, but you know that.  I'll give you the story later."  As always, imminent violence and potential death (his own) ratcheted Luke's grin wider - tension tended to do that.  He eyed the scre'ath askance, liking it less and less with the explanation.  "How clever."

And how very human.

Leaning back, he spoke to his companion, sotto vocce.  "That thing?  Not one of my associates, and neither is its summoner."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:26, Mon 12 July 2010.

 

•• But it might be mine ••

Banglen-Yp stepped over and grabbed Dworkin by the ear.  The Screen had shown these things to be effective on many occasion.

Still holding his ear she leaned closer to the spherical prison that might hold the key to her.  Then she spoke to it.

•• Are you in there • is it really you ••

 

The ice woman seems puzzled at first, until she notices the scre'athh.  + We know that. +  She holds up her left hand.  The smallest digit, and the tip of the next one, are missing.  + It was used against us.  As a test, we were led to believe, to see if it could damage an Archon. +

+ Should she be that close to it? +

Banglen-Yp speaks to the scre'ath, and the roiling, chaotic mass seems to freeze inside its cage.  Dworkin speaks a single very short word, very quietly, and vanishes.  And in that instant the mechanism collapses.

The scre'ath bubbles out, devouring the cage as it does so.  A tendril flicks out and brushes Banglen-Yp's arm.  And the scre'ath freezes again, just for a heartbeat.

•• Banglen•Yp • You found us •• the dozen or so duplicates of the blonde woman say in unison...

Around them, a large portion of Dworkin's workroom has vanished, in a scene reminiscent of the earlier chaos, when Dorian had attempted to force Banglen-Yp into her true form.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:14, Tue 13 July 2010.

"Well, shit."

It wasn't often Luke found himself taken off guard.  This would go down in his private history as one of those times.  The instant Dworkin released the creature, a cage of forces sprung up around the sharp-featured man and his charge, a momentary screen of power meant to delay any possible consumption long enough for he and Amy to drop into the Underflow...hopefully dragging their companions with them.

Banglen-yp's neutralization of the threat gave him pause, and he watched the shifting creation - the blond woman went from one to a baker's dozen in an instant, the scre'ath leeching away from the matter surrounding them as it created its bodies.

"She probably shouldn't, but she is," he muttered over his shoulder.  "But it looks like things are under control.  Sort of.  Just be ready to escape this world."  He paused for thought.  "I'm sorry about your hand." 

...he remembered a cage, a milennia of torment, crying in the night...his father's memories, passed down to himself...

Luke's lips twisted.  Dworkin.  If I survive this, you'd better watch your backtrail...

 

Throwing her arms up in joy the blonde, or one of them, called out happily.

•• It is you • Banglen•Yp •• I could feel you • me • us • Banglen•Yp ••

A mass-hugging commenced where all of the blondes seemed to focus on the original until they all had their turn at a hug, bumping against the other people in the room and uttering cheerful excuses - familiar faces all got a cheerful wave too in passing while the ice-lady received a curious but non-menacing once-over.

Then they all spoke, in unison.  Kind of like a totally weird surround sound.

•• It is so good to see you again • but where is here • it is not home ••

And they all looked around again before asking a question, again in unison.

•• Where did the little crazy old lunatic go ••

Then, as if for the first time, all of them looked over the others again and smiled at them, yet again speaking as one - except for the one who had grabbed the ear of that "crazy old luncatic".

•• Hi ••

It looked as if they all might be targeted - by another mass hug.

 

---

_{Fixed a typo.}
This message was last edited by the player at 17:52, Tue 13 July 2010.

"Hi," Luke blandly echoed, concealing his considerable amazement behind a well-practiced mask.  The perpetual party-pooper, he kept the field of energy up to avoid unwanted embraces.

All of the Banglen-Yps are talking cheerfully.  Their words spilling over each other, forming a single coherent speech.  It does, at least, appear to be a happy reunion.

•• He hurt us • Trapped us • We didn't know who we were until you spoke to us • Banglen•Yp • And when we touched you • all the memories you held • of places and things we have never seen • It was most interesting ••
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:27, Tue 13 July 2010.

Aaron at first, stood in mute shock at the swift and sudden occurences spiralling around him. Then, as was rather atypical of them, things suddenly calmed down.

Regardless, Aaron inched a bit closer to Luke and their new companion. Safety in numbers, he hoplessly assumed.

"I wish someone would explain just what the hell is going on, here." He snorted, shook his head, and reminisced to himself of the old days, when all he had to worry about was Jack, or some random blood relation, trying to kill him, or when the next time he'd have to explain all of his powers, assets and abilities to a new member of the group. Been a long time, that.

Tahirah, for her part, seems to have decided that the best defense against group hugs is absolute stillness.  Although somebody watching her very closely could notice a smooth, gradual, continuation of her earlier movement to the side of the room.

Aaron's request, however, gives her something to focus on.  "She has Found herself," she says, suddenly.  "And the acceptance of form and thought into the scre'ath will, we may hope, prevent the dissolution of all that we know."

There is a moment of quiet, and then she adds, "The state of the room suggests that Banglen-Yp may yet remain a powerful weapon, also, should she so choose, but the transformation from mindless smoke to thinking being brings with it the power, and consequence, of such Choice."

 

Banglen-Yp, or at least the one that had been around for a while, made a sad face at the other Banglen-Yp's.

•• He had no idea what he found • he believed us • me • a mindless eating machine •• But he will not hurt us any more • that is certain ••

•• Now we are away from home • here in this place where so much exist apart from us •• It is really fascinating • but also threatened by a danger •• Perhaps we can aid in this • if we find the rest of me • us • at least the part he did bring here ••

Then she turned to look at her companions.

•• No need to fear • no one will hurt you •• Or hug you • if you do not want it •• I • we • were taken from my home • and we were scared and frightened •• I fell and ended up in a place I had not seen before • in this • well • form •• It was dead and I found myself drawn to it • as if it was • hmm • compatible perhaps ••

She looked at Tahirah and grinned.

•• I was never mindless smoke • we simply have what appears to be a block that makes it impossible for your kind to sense us • other than as nothing •• Where I • we • me come from • I am everything • there is nothing else •• Nor can we walk this pattern because there is nothing but me •• Hmm • this language needs a word for me•us•I•we • but I suppose you are all seperate • isolated and alone in most ways • sad really ••

Then she clapped her hands and threw her arms out to the side, smiling brightly.

•• So • we are all friends • yes • and maybe we can help • although I cannot and will not stop me from exploring this world • as it is all new •• Then • once it is all over • we need to consider what to do •• Return home to the rest of me • us • or not •• I am no doubt upset and sad • probably scared too • having had a bit taken away •• Still • the more we can bring back • the more joyous the union •• Oh • and if possible • perhaps we can make it so that we can come visit this and other realms • no ••

Finishing off she looked at her companions for their reaction, all of the Banglen-Yp's falling quiet and just watching.

 

The ice woman studies the multiple Banglen-Yps briefly.  If she is in any way shocked by their sudden presence, she shows no sign of it.  Her expression remains calm.

+ The one who trapped us, he is gone now, but is he likely to return?  With allies?  Do you have a plan of escape?  If not, we may... she shifts in form, growing smaller, as the Banglen-Yps, all of them, make noises of polite interest, watching her change until she becomes a rotating wheele of ice shards, about a foot in diameter, ... BE ABLE TO ASSIST. +

The Archon's voice is like the cracking and splintering of glaciers as they reach the sea and give birth to great icebergs.

The Banglen-Yps start to clap their hands.

In unison.

"No," Tahirah says, her voice suddenly firm.  Almost commanding.  "There is no plan for escape.  There must not be," she emphasizes.

"We are not among enemies here.  Different paths have been followed, but goals converge.  If we are not all friends, then we must still be allies, and one does not escape from one's allies."

Midway through the explanation, Luke shot a glance at Aaron, one eyebrow cocked.  Definitely a good thing this problem got resolved before it became one.  A very, very curious origin...but then, his was equally odd, in its own way.

No reason to be prejudiced.  At least it's not human.

It wasn't surprising the Archon wasn't shocked by the multitude of Banglen-Yp - many of them lived in multiple 'selves'.  "Listen to the lady," Luke drawled, turning to eye the now-forming glacial halo.  "Maybe Dworkin has friends, but so do we.  And ours are welcome in this place, whereas I doubt he is."  Not after summoning some kind of world-eating being, fortunately de-threatened by Banglen-Yp.  Great.  A whole whack of people I have to see with my eyes.

"Tahirah makes good sense - no surprise there.  If Dworkin comes back, we'll deal with him.  But right now..."  He glances from the shimmering, flickering hoop to his associates.  "Introductions."

"Amabael, we have Tahirah, Aaron, and...Banglen-Yp and her selves." He cocked an eyebrow.  "And her cat...thing.  Everyone, meet Amabael.  Of the Sencathi."  His grin widened, without its usual sharpness. "Those Archons Berd told us about - the ones Harbonah tried to genocide away.  Amy tells me her people wouldn't mind spanking Harbonah, spoiled brat that he is."

"I've explained Cyan's plan, what I know of it.  She supports the attempt.

And at that point, there is the ringing of a small bell, from the vicinity of where they entered the room.  A glance in that direction reveals a simple wooden door, closed, set with a large brass ring...

"Hrm. A door." Aaron sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. His trip across the Primal Pattern was catching up with him, now.

"Amabael," Aaron said in polite greeting, though his attempt to stem his impatience was wearing. "Nice to meet you. The half of your race I've known has tried to kill my friends and I. The other half have taught me a number of very useful things. As long as you don't try to kill us, I'm fine with having you around."

A glance at Luke, Tahirah and the Yp's. "Shall we?"

"Dworkin included," Tahirah emphasizes, although more softly.  She walks over to the sudden doorway, and then stops, turning towards the wheel of ice, and gives it a small bow.  "I am pleased to meet you, Amabael," she says, formally.  She decides against any particularly careful pronunciation of the name - shattering glaciers just isn't something her throat is prepared to do.  Then she turns back to the door, reaches up to the brass ring, and gives it a tug.

Luke frowned, not entirely pleased by the lackluster greeting.  Then again, it seemed whatever he had missed had likely dragged any enthusiasm out of Tahirah and Aaron; the Banglen-Yps had enough for an army.

"I'm more than ready to leave.  The scaly beast needs to know about Amabael, as he's hunting high and low across the Myriad Worlds for her people - looking for allies," he noted as an aside to the glittering Archon.  "Forgive Aaron.  He's had a trying time, and hasn't been bled yet today.  It's disturbing his humours."

Pausing, Luke eyed the sword strapped to Aaron's back as Tahirah reached for the doorknob.  "I haven't heard much out of your friend lately, Aaron," he stated with his usual lack of tact.

Now Aaron grinned, a half-thing that showed some teeth, though it only slightly met his tired eyes.

"She's around, friend. Just not where you can see her." He gestured to the aether about them. "Hopefully, she's gathering allies out of Shadow, though considering our history, I wouldn't hold it against her if she chose to never see us again. Arianne now has some time to herself. I imagine she's a Queen or a Goddess or some such on San Anyn." He shook his head. "Even chained, that woman was never short on ideas or ideals."

His mental companion now given flesh once more, Aaron had very little time to cast his mind back to Arianne den'Ilsefranvir's current goings-on. Yet giving her her body back had gained for Arianne at least some power over San Anyn. Whether that power extended beyond that world was a mystery to Aaron.

A softness appeared around his eyes, and Aaron glanced at Luke.

"Thank you for reminding me. I should get in touch with her soon, I think."

The door opens at Tahirah's touch, sliding smoothly and silently into the wall.  Beyond the opening, Cyan and Dorian stand, gazing back at the hooded woman.


(Please continue in "Part 67a - Meeting and greeting")