OOC: Thread made, allowing entrance to be posted.

Noah showed up thanks be to God for Mistral's titanic skill at teleportation. When he showed up to Synth headquarters he looked around, started hyperventilating. Surpassing Talion was a life long goal prior to finding out the man was the end of all things. And Noah was standing at the finish line of that.

Well, he WAS standing, at the moment he was falling over and passing out due to hyperventilation.

Mistral arrived on site at Synthos headquarters alongside Noah, or perhaps it was merely a copy of her.  It was difficult to tell, at the best of times.  She would transport any or all of the synth parts she'd mystically dredged up from the sea after the disaster, if Noah indicated that they would be of use.

She crossed her arms to watch Noah's show of overwhelming excitement with an air of detached amusement.  She remarked drily, "Bienvenue à synthetic Disneyland, mon dragon.  I am afraid I did not bring your inhaler."  Mistral glanced around to take in the unbelievably advanced tech on display and asked, "Perhaps the CEO ought first to announce his arrival?"

 When Noah fell over, Wraith appeared out of nowhere and hopped up on his body. Around his neck was a new glowy bauble that looked like an hourglass.

 Meanwhile, men (who all look the same: tan, brown eyes, black hair) in black suits walked from place to place, tending to the internal affairs of Synthos with an efficiency difficult to match by humans.

Noah lifted his head long enough to set it back down. Who needed drugs when you could nerd out about something. He pulled his one arm forward and typed out on a virtual keyboard.

He set up his ID for synth work and set it as a ping for the local network and hit send.

 Noah sent his ping but there was no real response.

Noah dragged himself up and to the front desk until he could lean on it. "Hi... um... I'm in for repairs, I also need to start work to revive one of the horsemen, Meep, a few dopple units, and the good doctor."

 The unit at the front desk was the same model as all of the other ones. "Greetings Mr. Dragon of Purgatory, the registration for transferal of ownership of this facility has already been completed.

 The paperwork regarding all past, present, and future planned model synthetics are all in your office for you to review. If you are looking for the Synthetic Revival Station, then head downstairs and to your right. The SRS unit is run by Unit 999. She will be able to answer any questions you may have about the specifics of the station."

Noah rose up fully controlling his breath. "Thank you, if you have any spare limbs for a comet dragon, please do send them down. I'm missing a right arm and a damaged left-wing."

He looked at Mistral, Or tried to as she was more slippery than a Pan Shadow. "Bones and blood they are transactional." He wondered as to how they are replenishing their will in such a place. "Let them know we are on our way."

 The synthetic nodded. "As you wish, sir."

 They headed downstairs and into the facility labeled SRS.

 Through the doors, there were many more synthetics with the same face now wearing lab coats instead of suits.

 Only one of them was different, a woman with dark hair and porcelain white skin. She wore glasses and held a clip board. It only took a moment to recognize her as the Horseman of Death. She approached Noah. "The specialty parts are currently being 3D printed. We'll have the individuals on your backup system revived within the hour."

This was Noah's realm of expertise, not Mistral's.  She was here mainly as an observer, and for the hope to recover lost friends who also happened to be synths.  She followed him in unobtrusive silence as he conferred with the synthetic doppelgangers that seemed to run operations with impressive efficiency.

She was more than a little relieved that the transition of management go smoothly despite Noah seemingly having entirely forgotten he was now a CEO of the premier multi-national synth development corporation.


Mistral answered from the world's backdrop, "That has not been mon expérience, at least prior to certain recent developments..."  Soon enough they were showed to the 'SRS' which was headed by none other than Death herself.  Ironic, that she would be the one to bring lost synths back to life.

"Its interesting, they seek people out naturally. It's part of their core program. Yet first glance there is none of that here. So they must cycle out the sales department."

He inclined his head to Death, "Good to see you Mori. We also have remains from the site for memory extraction. Do we have a Brain dance unit handy? I want to give the Good Doctor a chance to change her mind about mortality."

OOC: Bear in mind that the only thing Mistral recovered was melted slag. The only reason it could even be identified was because of sympathy. There's nothing salvageable from that. It was like a nuke went off point plank in their faces (without radiation).

 "If you're wondering about our workers, we stagger our schedules so that the workers here can go pursue their social goals. We... had... many businesses nearby that facilitated that. Now they do charity work in their spare time.

 However, the Brain Dance was your proprietary technology. The Master did not bring it here. It would have been unseemly to do so, even after you were named his successor."

"Wont be able to extract. Still, their remains will have a burial." Synths got treated as people with him. Active or not.

"I'll forward you the list of things needed to make a brain dance. Synth deserve dreams even if it's just for mental repair and maintenance. We will need a minor server to manage it under you. After all sleep the sister of death."

"Code name the project 'hypnos'. We will also need to start working on the orbital backup server. The moon scar will be done some point soon so we need to get it it up there before all this chaos is settled."

"Also, if we could run a ping command for the mayor, Amy, scar, and Nefertiti. Just a check in any time a synth sees them. I have little doubt some bad people are trying to capitalize on our black eye."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:02, Wed 29 Sept 2021.

 Death turned to look back out over the lab. "Fabrication is finished. Project Hypnos is encoded. Your request to keep tabs on the selected individuals has been forwarded to Unit 997. Be aware that things like that were the cause of the riots that claimed many synths and I'm only following that order because they may be in danger.

 Now, come with me and we'll replace your arm and wing."


OOC: Edit- Changed 998 to 997. I miscounted.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:34, Mon 04 Oct 2021.

"Of course. The follow up on the mayor should be suspended on two weeks and Nef once Talion and Grey have recovered. Not a big brother, just a concerned buddy."

Noah followed along. He may be a tech but one listened to their doctor.

 Noah was placed upon a slab similar to the ones he'd used to work on other synths and a new arm and wing were brought in on a cart. Death sprayed the socket of his arm with cleaner then attached the new arm. There was a jolt of pain sent through his entire arm as it was reconnected in a similar vein to having your funny bone struck extremely hard.

 She then removed the wing and reattached the new one. Both procedures were met with a similarly extreme jolt of pain.

"Ahh te te te te."  Noah took it the best he could. "Scar is a bit of a bad ass to have his face worked on without being out."

"Ehhh, we may need to get the stuff to take care of Talion's body moved to the reactor."

 Death stepped back from the table once the work was done (aggravated damage healed) and headed further into the wing.

 "We do not have the morphic bodies for Aly and Bia but two stock bodies should suffice for now. Meep has been restored, and Unit 998 is in the process of being restored offsite. Units 996-999 possess different repair and reconstruction processes requiring resources that this facility does not have. The unit ID 'Melissa' does not have a backup and so could not be restored."

 As she stopped, three figures walked into view, Aly, Bia, and Meep (Aly and Bia were in the forms they most often took so that they could be recognizable).

Noah wrapped his arms and wings around the whole group. He had already had the emotional break down so it was all kosher now. "Thank God you all are all back and at it. We will recover in time."

He looked at Mori, "Would the schematics for the Dopple prototype benefit synths as a whole?"

 Death paused for a moment as she considered what was asked. "I believe that would be unwise. Synthetics can be made to look like anyone or anything, making them able to alter that on a whim would likely breed paranoia and result in another massacre."

Noah nodded once, "I will provide the blueprint and a copy of the needed programming. Use it or store it. I'll upload Hypnos the password the cloud of pregen brain dances. Ill upload any of my other designs as the company will need."

"Is there anything you need of me while I am here?"

 "Very well. If you could fill out the paperwork in the office before you leave, it would be much appreciated. Until it is completed, you are still technically not in charge."

Mistral stayed back as Noah was laid out on the slab to have the damaged arm and draconic wing replaced, as she wished not to get in the way of what she expected would be a delicate procedure.  She remained in Noah's eye-line as the work was done, and gave him a single nod she intended to be encouraging.  She wasn't very good at being supportive, but she at least gave it a try.  The process turned out to be less like a surgery and more like reattaching the limbs of an action figure, though it did appear to be painful for him.  When it was done she approached and petted his scaled head in the way that he liked and ran a hand curiously along the edge of the new wing.  She remarked, "Comme neuve.  I hadn't known these limbs were synthétique until I saw them destroyed... I am glad for that, now."

When Aly, Bia, and Meep were returned just as they were, a rare smile brightened Mistral's pale features.  She couldn't quite bring herself to join a group hug, but she was much relieved that not all had been lost.  At least these three loyal companions could be restored.  She intentionally avoided thinking about Alex and Sabrina, for it would be unseemly to weep here.  Mistral performed a respectful bow toward Death and said evenly, "Merci beaucoup, for restoring mes amies to life."

 Death placed a hand over her chest and gave a small bow. "It was no trouble. It is why I was given the name Death, to claim the souls of those synthetics whos time has come, restore them, and see to their reincarnation either as a new life or as a resurrection, depending on their preference."

Noah rumbled at Mistral contently. "Me too. Mix of tech, meat, and magic. Im not gone so long as my head is intact. The bones can be rebuilt, and the organics can be regrown."

"Synths normally choose to be taken offline for limb replacements. And I don't blame them. Though it makes we wonder if our normal replacement limbs for warriors have the same effect." Now there was mention of official buisness. He swiftly turned into a ball of tense stress. "I suppose we should make it official..."

 Death accompanied Noah to the CEO's office where a small stack of papers was neatly placed in a basket labeled "In". On the other side was an identical (empty) basket labeled "Out".

 She assisted with the paperwork. It was tedious and took a few hours but soon it was done.

 With their business concluded, Death left them to decide what was next. While they were in the city, they had others they could contact if they so wished.

Noah sighed, "Wadda think Mist? Doesn't feel real. Before I met him I had goals to surpass Talion. Now it's a benchmark."

He grumbled a bit as he still did not think it real still. "Twins, the office is yours. Ark is still there to provide aid and recovery for abused synths. Just because we are here doesn't make our work any less important."

"Ill also need a list of any satellites that can relay from here to France."

Mistral took a seat in the corner of the spacious office, legs crossed while Noah and Death pressed through the paperwork.  She did not expect that she would be needed for this process, and thus remained unobtrusive while attending to inscrutable mystical pursuits of her own.


"Toutes nos félicitations on your new position.  You have come far since venturing to steal or reverse-engineer Synthos tech in the midst of Talion's yacht party."  Mistral paused to think back to that evening that now seemed a lifetime ago, although it couldn't have been more than some months past.  "So have we both..."

Noah smiled and leaned in close to Mistral. "And you're still just as stunning if not more so now than ever." He rumbled at her then nodded once. "Twins, please see to an order for some survival gear so we can make a foward base in the new location. Gotta make it comfy not that I mind the cuddle puddle."

"Homeward bound we go."