FRS Session

Shimbi... Shimbi has just decided to sleep for a long time. Well, when you think about it, it's not really sleeping. If lying down motionless without closing your eyes (besides the occasional blink) without drifting into the subconscious is still considered sleeping to you, then yes, I guess he is sleeping. Otherwise, he has just managed to do nothing whilst laying down on a whale.

He looks at his computer and notes the time. He has been "asleep" for, if had to guess, 20 minutes, 37 seconds and that just shocks the fish~kid. He... however... doesn't know why. He does know it should though, so that's why he is. Shimbi just sees no reason to care. When, or if, it ever has a purpose, he'll likely know what to do... or not. Who knows?

After that short pondering~break, he ponders some more, and he ponders whether or not to chat in memo which he also saw whene he woke up. Reluctantly, Shimbi does indeed decide to reply.

”Show Memolog”:

Hmm, now what DOES Y~D~W~C~S~Y~P do with T~B~S~C~T~T~T~M~G~T~P~L~I~I~S~T~T~O~S~W~G~O~G~T~A~T~G~L~B~A~G. He ponders this. He'll just lie down on this while pondering.

”Show Memolog”:

You don't quite know what to do. On prospit, everything was OK, which this guide said would not be true. Some Jack Noir supposedly had already usurped the queen on Derse, but the Prospitian tabloids would have gobbled that up if it were true. Maybe it didn't happen every time? Nevertheless, the phone had eventually vibrated, and she couldn't ignore the constant stream of rattles in her sleeping body's hand. Awake, the messages were just mostly bullshit to her. But apparently her server player was being a dick, because she had sent a message several hours to her before it was her turn to enter, and she never replied. Whatever, maybe the meteor got her.

She looked down at the ogre, which was walking around, as though it had forgotten it had something to chase. How would she befriend that thing?! It was a brute, seriously.

> hey

You sidle down the ladder, slightly more steady on your feet after two naps.

> hey girlie

You sneak past the shelves you're sandwitched between, and duck out of the dangerous place where monsters dwell.

> girlie hey
cmon
oh wait

You massage your skull, walking slowly back to your hive, hoping that you don't attract the attention of the big guy again.

> did those last two send

You attract the attention of the big guy.

> oh okay just added two more lines

He's charging after you, but you think you'll make it to the door.

> hey, uh, inny right?

Yup, almost inside now.

> the monster wants you dead

He tripped, that's a stroke of luck!

> those ones dont listen to reason.

Finally inside!

> so like, unless you have super strong drugs or something

And the ogre dropped he speed completely once you changed maps. Er, entered your house.

> yeah it's not gonna be a calm friend or anything

There's a buzzing in your skull. Like, not the normal kind.

> god damn it there is some serious lag going on sorry

You head downstairs to your alchemiter.

(( I'll write up an elchemy post later, may add it to this! Hardly matters lol))

The whale... It beckons... Beckons? Beckons for what?

There is no answer. It is just a whale. It's not even a whale. It's just a blue version of a sea~creature.

Are you sure the beckoning is coming from the whale itself? It might be coming from beyond the whale.

These ideas pain Shimbi. Nothing can be beyond the whale. What even is a whale? It's certainly not the name of a Trollian species. Why would it beckon? Whales, as far as Shimbi knows, can not beckon for anything at all. Shimbi knows he has yet to sleep for a long while, so he must be hallucinating. He decides that he must sleep. He avoids the whale whatever~that~is and lays down on the floor by the wall opposite the whale, and he shuts his eyes.

What is that? What is that thing doing?

HE CAN HEAR IT.
HE CAN HEAR IT.

His eyes quickly re-open. The beckoning makes sense now. The whale is upset. It must be. That's the only reason it'd be yelling for him. Shimbi snaps out of it and decides to do what he does best. He decides to go with the flow. Shimbi knows the best way to help it would be to try to befriend the strange thing beckoning for him. Who knows, maybe the poor thing is hurt?

Shimbi: Hello? Can you understand~my~language?

The whale says nothing, because as we all know, it is just an object. Though still... it beckons. It beckons for something to be fulfilled. Shimbi however doesn't like being obligated to something, but he knows it needs help. Still, it beckons.

Shimbi doesn't like being obligated to do something, but he feels that he must do something. Yes, that's it! He is willingly doing something to help the whale. It is his own freedom beckoning to kill it.

What? Kill it?

It is his own freedom beckoning to help it. That was quite the Freudian slip. Why would you kill the whale? There is no reason to kill anything.

And still, it beckons. It demands... something.

Shimbi: If- if you can~say any~thing, please~say it now.

But he can't. Everything has its place, and it is not the place of objects to talk.

Yes, he forgot. He needs to sleep. He is tired. He has not slept for a long while. He has only shut his eyes without sleeping. Shimbi... can't actually recall a time that he has slept. That's... rather odd. Somebody just can't go without sleep for 7 whole sweeps. That... doesn't make sense though. Surely he must have just forgot sleeping. He hasn't slept for a while, and going to sleep must have had some AWFUL effect on the memory.

He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep. He ignores the whale's beckoning. It is just an object. Objects can not talk, they can not act, they can not do anything. He keeps his eyes closed. He keeps his eyes closed, but he can not sleep. No matter how hard, or how seemingly long his eyes are closed, he can not sleep.

Shimbi then decides to talk to his friends, and maybe get advice from them on how to sleep, or answers, any answers at all.

”Show Memolog”:

Congratulations, Shimbi, you have managed to block yourself, and have also managed to not help yourself at all. Your future self must know that this would anger his past self.

Hmm... what comes naturally...

Sleep. It must be sleep. Shimbi hasn't slept for a long time. He has not slept for 9 sweeps. 9 sweeps? Yes. It must be 9 sweeps. It sure feels like it has been the long, maybe, maybe even longer. At most 13 sweeps. The median value for that would be 11 sweeps. Yeah, 11 sweeps, that seems like a reasonable estimate.

Shimbi seems to have forgotten he has only been awake alive for 7 sweeps. He just somehow forgot.

Yes, he forgot. He needs to sleep. He is tired. He has not slept for a long while. He has only shut his eyes without sleeping. Shimbi... can't actually recall a time that he has slept. That's... rather odd. Somebody just can't go without sleep for 7 whole sweeps. That... doesn't make sense though. Surely he must have just forgot sleeping. He hasn't slept for a while, and going to sleep must have had some AWFUL effect on the memory.

He tries to call for his lusus for help, but his lusus is dead. It died.

He tries to call for his sprite for help, but as much as he tries, he can not call it.

Shimbi can't speak. He tries yelling, but he can not. Shimbi can not yell, and he also can not speak at all. He tries again.

But he can't. Everything has its place, and it is not the place of objects to talk.

Yet still, he beckons. Shimbi demands... something.

It is his own freedom beckoning to help him speak, to act on his own volition. There is no mistake there. Why would you restrict your freedom further? There is no reason to further restrict your own freedom.

Yes, kill it.

Yes, that's it! He is willingly doing something to help himself. Shimbi doesn't like being obligated to do something, but he feels that this is something he must do. It is his own freedom beckoning to kill it.

His eyes quickly re-open. Oh yes, he has forgotten that his eyes were closed. He must have been dreaming. No, that was not a dream. He knows that all happened. It was all too real. The symbolism of the fake~dream beckons for you

The beckoning makes sense now. Shimbi is upset. He must be. That's the only reason he is yelling. Shimbi snaps out of it and decides to do what he does best. He decides to go with the flow. Shimbi knows the best way to help it would be to try to tame himself. Who knows, maybe he is deeply hurt?

The whale then yells at him.

Whale: Hello? Can you understand~my~language?

YES, HE CAN.
YES, HE CAN.

What is the whale doing now? What is that thing doing?

The whale is paining Shimbi's soul. Something must be beyond the whale. It wasn't beckoning, something beyond it was beckoning. Clearly, as Shimbi now knows, the whale is beckoning him. Shimbi knows he has yet to sleep for a long while, so he knows that this is no dream and that this is reality. He decides to wake up. He stands up from the wall opposite the whale, walks towards it, and he pulls out his harpoon, and he stabs it. He stabs it. He stabs it.

There is no scream. It is just a whale. It's not even a whale. It was just a key.

The whale... it no longer beckons. The thing beyond it no longer beckons at all.

Shimbi then dreams. It must be a dream, a nightmare perhaps. Yes, it must be a nightmare. He shut his eyes, and he did something that he has never done, he has used his harpoon to harm something. This fact scares him. He knows for sure that this is a nightmare. He sleeps all of the time, he's sure. Yes, this is a nightmare. He sees water NOWHERE. There is only dirt and the breeze. The land is aptly named The Land of Dirt and Breeze. In fact, he notices nothing besides those two things. There's dirt piled slightly higher in the distance which blocks further sight in all directions. Also the breeze. The breeze is not blowing too much, but it is obviously there.

You try waking up. You do not like this. This nightmare is too nightmarish. You look at the clock, knowing that clock times do not work in dreams. You not only notice that there is an actual time, showing that this is a dream, you also know that it is exactly one hour later. You forget what this means, but you decide to tell yourself what to do, therefore exercising freedom over yourself.

”Show Memolog”:

Good job, Shimbi, you managed to ban yourself as you did earlier. This is not at all exercising freedom, nor is it going with the flow. You have shackled yourself. You have forced yourself to do something.

Chat. Try to make sense of this all. You do not understand this. You understand nothing any longer.

Chatlog with Taston:

Palatl woke up with a jolt, hopping onto her feet and having her hooks at the ready to attack any enemy that may have tried to surround or attack her. What she saw was just the remains of her hive, rubble by this point, and her Crocdad making his signature noise rapidly trying to communicate with his charge. However, all she could do is nod in response, being unwilling to talk. As she listened to the Klaks, which she did have some ability to understand thanks to years of living with the Lusus, she set to work on the Alchemiter. It was a pretty weird device, but she could tell it was used for way more then just entering the game, especially with all the set up it required.

Frowning, she went to the group memo to try and get some help, only to see that one of their own was in need.

”Show Memolog”:

As you wait for a reply, you begin to mess with the machine son your own, hopping with all your power that it would lead to answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Shimbi waited for a reply from his friend over the internet, and the breeze carried through the area gently as if trying to calm the troll youth's nerves, a slightly humming could be heard. Shimbi stood upon a massive dirt mound that seemed to have been formed by the breeze, and on the breeze was carried the lightest of hums. It was a melody that seemed so familiar, yet was foreign to the Troll. Like the hum of the jade bloods who watched over the caverns and hatchlings, if one were to have to place it. But even that comparison failed to pinpoint where he had heard it, cause it was completely different, with only the faint memory of those songs deep in his subconscious coming to mind.

The sound came from the other side of the mound, seemingly calling through the breeze to him.

And for miles out, there was no sign of anything else. Only the dirt, and the song, and Shimbi.
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Nanako wrote:
"Fuck!_Why_does_|t_have_to_be_broad_day||ght_r|ght_now!_Th|s_can't_be_good_for_my_gander_bu|bs..."

"Oh dear child, such a shame. This sun is so bright, and the light seeming intent to maim.

Oh my dear child, with scars from your pale past.

Do not fret for I have come to you, so that the role of your death you do not cast."

The voice came from behind Caliste, but if she were to look there would be no one there and the voice would seemingly remain behind her.
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As infira walked down to the basement, she could here the slow playing of a pianos melody. It was a song she hadn't heard before, but she had seen it in one of her books. The melody was old, older then most everything else in the library. It was likely the oldest melody in all of Troll history, and yet someone was playing it in the place below your home, on a piano that had never before been there.

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"Indeed, the inferno seem to ever grow closer. But where would this young one wander?

Will the one with the arm so strong, follow this voice which speaks to you so?

Or will you not, refuse to be strung along, and ignore the horn of opportunity like a frightened doe?"

If Talven were to look behind him, all he would see would be the top part of a parasol blocking his view entirely of the source of the voice. It was feminine, and had hints of high class in the tone and mannerisms. It was gentle and soft though, as if it were the wind itself speaking.
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As Taston was chastised by his sprite, a flash of green and white light shined behind him, before disappearing. Behind him a figure stood, a feminine figure from the looks of the skirted legs. The skirt was like the one of a woman's suit, but pure white like the rest of what could be seen with green acting as some form of aura around it to add definition to the edges. Only the legs could be seen though, as everything else was hid behind a parasol, the figure facing away from Taston.

"Yes child, your vernacular mustn't turn foul. Your guardian, though dead, would be so distressed that they may need a towel.

But I come not here to judge you, or your winged angel. No, I am merely here stand and observe, and wait my turn to reveal my angle."

Upon hearing someone speak behind her, Calist turns around to face her sprite, who had turned around as well seemingly just as confused. Calist gave voice to what she knew they both were thinking.
"What_the_actua|_fuck_was_that?"

'Great.',Calist thinks to herself, 'Now_|'m_hear|ng_ghosts_or_some_other_hoofbeastmanure._Can't_see_because_sun._Can't_trust_my_ears_because_ghosts._Th|s_day_just_can't_get_any_worse.'

As if on cue, ironically timed to prove her wrong, dark shadows began swarming around Calist and her sprite. She couldn't see them very clearly, but it was clear that despite their seemingly random shapes and features they were both armed and armored similarly to Calist's sprite, and thus her FLARP character.

"NeedaweaponNeedaweaponNeedaweaponNeedaweaponNeedaweaponNeedaweaponNeedaweapon"

As Calist ran about the mess in her rumpus block looking for any manner of item she could use to deal with the incoming threat, strife specibus out and ready to receive the armament, she found something that had fallen from the upper floor duing the commotion that had occurred during the opening seconds of the game, and promply tripped over it. Calist's falldown slat rolled swiftly out from under her foot sending her to the floor, careened off one wall and bounced airborne off another which held a massive two handed sword on the wall. This humongous blade also dislodged and began falling straight toward calist. With no time to get out of the way, she simply held out her strife specibus and hoped for the best.

Everything went silent.

Calist then fearfully pried open her gander bulbs despite the bright light to see what had become of the scenario she had found herself in only to realize that her sprite was looking down at her new strife specibus and laughing like a trapeeze borne laughsasssin over the whole ordeal. Calist then took a look at the strife specibus herself. It bore an image of a blade which had been struck by wooden plank. It read: 'Boarded Bladekind'. The many faceted irony of that title would not be fully known to Calist until much later, but clearly her sprite was fully appraised of it in the present. It was at that point that her sprite spoke for the first time through fits of laughter.

"You goofy goober!"

Calist then proceeded to throw an absolute tantrum on the spot, trying to chase down her sprite on top of her injury panel, with the giant sword in hand. Without realizing it, her amateur efforts to teach her much more skilled sprite a lesson were quickly destroying both her rumpus block and the dark little menaces that had begun to storm her hive.

When all was said and done, Calist was practically drowning in something called Grist and her sprite was still cackling like an idiot.

Apparently, there are in fact benefits to having such a large sword.

Talven blinked and scowled, balancing the speck of flame in his palm."Hey lady. Get out of the way. 7his is my plane7, and my sun."

When she didn't move he growled. In one swift move he was on his feet again with a Swallowtail perched on his shoulder. He stomped away from the parasol, not even looking at it or trying to see the figure behind it. Once he reached his scythe, he pried it out of the pile of dead imps, eyes locked on the intruder.

"I don'7 rake kindly 7o rhymin' ladies who won't show their face. What are you, shy?"

Talven raised his eyebrow and swung the scythe around so that it was propped up by his shoulder, imp blood leaking off the blade end. Just then, a small orange ball of flame floated in front of his face.

"I DON'T KNOW ABOUT HER. DO SOMETHING. BURN STUFF! BURN YOUR HOUSE! BURN YOURSE-" Burnsprite shouted in his face.

The troll boy sighed and threw his own flame up in the air with his spare hand before grabbed Burnsprite and throwing her into the horizon. After that he caught the fire and balanced it on his finger gently.

"...Burning you wasn'7 a bad sugges7ion 7hough."

Taston turns to his sprite, about ready to a unleash a HELLFIRE STORM OF... quiet, mumbled swears under his breath before reluctantly complying with her pretty reasonable request to stop swearing in her face while she is trying to explain shit. You know, like a troll IN CHARGE! But before he can engage in this efficient waste of time another act of random appearance arrives behind him. He expected a cheap attack, instead he got yet another verbal reprimand. Just what he needed: The universe conspiring against him in the most polite way possible. Meh. He should address this issue.

Both Taston and his sprite turn to the mysterious Lady, big parasol and aura and everything. Look at that. She mentioned something about her 'angle' as well as off handedly referring to his sprite as an 'angel'. Well at least he knows what to call this fuckin' thing now. Right, 'angle', so she is planning something. He would like to think her not completely murdering him out right would suggest a lack of murder in her scheme. But let's face it, it probably involved murder anyway. He stands where he is, not attempting to peek past the parasol as he speaks,

"Look, whoever the fu-... whoever the hot dam'n' fuck you are, teleportatio'n' followed &y a dollop of sick &loody rhyme droppi'n' might &e co'n'sidered a greeti'n'g where you're from. &ut I appreciate a little more co'n'text to my ra'n'dom, out of &lack eve'n'ts. So if ya got somethi'n' to say to me, say it. &ut I have e'n'ough stuff o'n' my plate, at the mo', without some... al&i'n'o gree'n' &lood? O&servi'n' me."

He frowns, turning his head to his 'AngelSprite' for what he would assume would be some agreeance but it seems she was too concerned with how inhospitable to his 'hive guest' he was being. Also she might have been ticked off that he ignored her just as she was getting into what would be some epic 'long and drawn out exposition.' Either way, Taston wasn't making any new friends at the moment. Speaking of friends, he might wanna check up on those. He retrieves his husktop, letting it float next to him. Looks like there has been some activity in that Memo someone started up a bit ago. Palatl is asking about the machines, might be a good spot for Taston to get his good deed of the day the fuck outta the way.

”Show Memolog”:

Hopefully that helps, he didn't mention how long that took him to figure out. Shit's embarrassing. He turns back to the white Lady, waiting for a response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 hours in the future in a vague location in vague circumstances... What? You want a natural progression of events? Some context that might be called upon at a later date? Well too fuckin' bad, you want that type of insight you can ask some other smuck. Time just ain't this guys deal. A message is received, and the message is answered appropriately. That's all you gotta know.

Chatlog with Shimbi:

(im sorry, please post past me
you can say shes just drunkenly asleep)

While waiting for Taston to reply, Shimbi heard a rather (un)calming sound. It can be called calming in that the memories it brought up were rather calming, especially compared to right now, even though he can't quite place it. It even brought a quick smile to his face (he hasn't quite grinning, it just turned into a bigger smile). Such a smile-widening humming bringing up memories almost requires a smile, doesn't it? It is also calming in that it is a lightly sung un-hellish song, but Shimbi was still being unnerved by it. To him, it was still quite the hellish song.

He was unnerved by it in a way similar to how a young sea dweller would be unnerved by a whale. Whales aren't even called "whales" on Alternia, though the actual name for them does escape him (the name escaping him is quite terrifying as well), they're called something else, though the fact that it is such engrained into his head unnerves him even further. The fact that the whale beckoned him and WAS him unnerved him even worse. He was beckoned by, beckoned, became, was, killed, killed by, owned, owned by, was ridden by, rode, "slept" on, pondered on, pondered about, pondered, devoured, ate, slaughtered, destroyed, eviscerated, disemboweled, destroyed, talked to, exchanged pleasentries with, and had his mind violated by a whale.

The song was also unnerving in that he could see no source of the sound. His mind tried to mentally assign the sound to being a breeze playing a similar melody, though it did strike him as odd how a sea dweller could assign meaning to something he hasn't heard in sweeps, especially a meaning he can not remember. The most logical conclusion he could force his mind to make was that it came from a person of some sort that would know the tune as well. Thinking about this made him more unnerved. The whole "person idea" made the most sense to him, but unnerved him quite like how a choice from an uncatchable fox he must capture would unnerve him. Though true he has a choice and that he will catch the fox, he knows it is not really much of a choice, and he especially knows that he must catch something that is uncatchable which is a task that is quite unlike itself. Comparably, something about this person, or whatever it was, seemed quite unlike itself. Though Shimbi also has strong reason to believe that he is quite unlike himself right now as well.

What unnerved him even further was whether this reality was within his head. His mind coming up with the spectacles he has faced seems rather jarring, as does the idea that this is truly what is happening now. How could a mind or a reality come up with such a thing that mustn't be pondered?

Yes, the sound is quite unnerving. The worst part about it is that it... has... not... finished... humming.

Then he hears an actual sound. A sound that brings a smile (a wider one, that is) to your face in its familiarity. It is the sound of one friend successfully receiving the message of a friend via a chat service. It is a sound that may hold... some answers. It is a sound that fully exists and exists within the same "realm" of reality (or semi-reality) that they both exist in. The sound also has a rather nice feature: it didn't need pondering.

Shimbi first drops one of his harpoons from his strife deck from the top of his head while he's atop a huge pile of dirt to the ground making sure to time it with a clock from his "flow~cards" (which is his rather odd name for his rather odd stack sylladex in that it functions like a normal stack sylladex, but every couple minutes or so, the cards change order randomly). The harpoon falls and falls, and for whatever reason his sprite rushes to be directly under it, as if TrollSimonSprite (Tcovcb) felt the desire to be struck by it. After a flash of light, there's a HarpoonSimonSprite. Hopefully nothing awful could arise from a diamond-tipped harpoon combining with his sprite because that kind of harpoon is QUITE sharp. It has actually excelled past its design purposes due to it effortlessly stabbing through even the hardest of bones. It's good that you have more at your disposal, but in the wrong hands, such as that of imps, a king that is quite black, and the such, this harpoon can be used to kill the careless quite easily, and the uncareless less easily, but easily nonetheless.

Shimbi has no idea what purpose this line of thinking is, he just decides to drop the topic... and another harpoon, once more timing it with his clock... this time making sure no flashing, dangerously sharp ghosts get in the way. His scientific study and estimations has shown that the harpoon fell 1.5 meters-ish in 0 seconds. This is impossible... unless this IS a dream or some hapless paroxysm of lies and illusion created by Shimbi's mind to destroy him... or it could be that the clock is water-powered, and there's no water nearby at all.

Shimbi would make a "fish out of water" joke, but he's not exactly humored by being taken out of the environment he has grown so well-accustomed to.

You DO read Taston's other line of reasoning about assesing people and appearences and steps taken to prove reality, but when he tries, he remembers that he... doesn't actually know his friends that well. The people Shimbi do still remember are his lusus (Sir~CADAVER), Taston, and Infira, but his lusus is dead now, Infira is a chronic alcholic now, and even Taston is a little different. Who knows what all changed with them? Not this fish~kid, thank you very much. He tries remembering how he got where he is, but he isn't even sure how he did get here. He barely even knows what HERE even is. It seems to be a land of breeze, and... well... dirt, and not much else. Land~of~breeze~and~dirt~and~not~much~else does seem like a rather good name for it. L~o~b~a~d~a~n~m~e does seem like a satisfactory name.

Chatlog with Taston:

Alright, so he'll do just that, go with the floooow. See, he's all chill now, and flowing. Just... flowing. JUST FLOWING BEING COMPLETELY UNSTRESSED. FLOWING. F~WATER~L~WATER~O~WATER~W~WATER~I~WATER~N~WATER~G. Haha, he's not relaxed, chill, calm, or even flowing. It's a scientific fact that a fish cannot flow without water, at least a way he knows of.

===> ASCEND

There's no water, idiot.

===> DESCEND

What did I just say?

You need a system of water to ascend, descend, flow, or do any other water-related action. Hmm... if Shimbi can break the system, of not only water, but non-water as well, a tsunami can be made. Time to make some waves... by not doing all that much really.

Before that though, you have that sound to deal with.

Caliste
With an ocean of grist available to her now, the female troll seemed to be on the fast track to success. One would be hard pressed to argue this point, but then someone who spoke as if they did just this. It was the same voice from earlier, only now it was standing in plain view, facing away from Caliste with half it's body hidden behind a white parasol.

"A sea of treasure surrounds you now, with your dear sprite acting like a sow.

Tell me little one, whose blade is drenched in imp gore, what you shall do with all this grist that lies on the floor?

If I were to suggest, if any aide I were to give, maybe you should learn of the alchemiter so that you can further live."

Said the voice, turning a bit to how off a profile of the figure. Everything about them was white with green as a highlight, and their face hidden behind pure white hair that seemed as if it were a single mass.

Their outfit was something maybe a high blood would wear. It was high class in fabrication, but not overly gaudy of a dress. Its skirt reached to the ground and drug a little, and the arms were covered from the elbow to the wrist with a thin veil to cover the lower arms.

The figure didn't look towards Caliste, merely sighing as it stared off into the distance

"I believe your friend, the one of the sea, have already left instructions so these events may be."
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Tavlen
The woman was silent for a second, then sighed as she turned to face Tavlen, appearing the same as she did to caliste, except now it was revealed her right eye was uncovered by her hair. The eye was closed, but that was the least odd thing about the woman. She had no mouth or nose, and had a pure white and smooth skin, like porcelain.

She was silent as she 'stared' at Tavlen, then tilted her head "Just as unpredictable as ever aren't you child? That was the first time you've ever physically abused your sprite so quickly...."

She walked forward, slightly taller then the troll youth, as she 'stared' down at him. "I'll make it simple for you then. You can try to set me on fire, cut me with your scythe, harm me in any way you can. And this will end in the only predictable way I can say relates to you.

Or, You can accept my help. I know all there is to know of this game, and I'm afraid we both know you haven't the faintest idea where to go from here."
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Taston
The figure chuckled at first, a playful and mirthful kind that was still restrained. so different yet similar to the chuckles of the juggulos of Alternia, one would have to wonder which was imitating which. " Well oh my, this twisted tongue you use. Makes this one think you've chosen her ears for abuse. But never fear, oh child of Red. For you see i have come to make sure you don't end up dead.

So listen to me, very carefully now. Else your soul will simply have to take a bow. Use your knowledge you have shared, the knowledge of the craft. Use it now to guide your way, use it now as your raft.

When this you accomplish, and the lot is yours. Meet me on top of your hive, where through a portal i shall be your oars."

Said the voice, before in a bright snap, she disappeared and left Taston alone with his Angel.

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Shimbi

In a sudden flash, just as Shimbi was calming down, or at least trying too, the figure all his friends were seeing appeared behind him. She stood quietly for a second, before leaning over and poking his shoulder quietly, to get his attention. All the while, she kept humming the tune, which would now be louder to Shimbi due to her proximity.

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Infira

The figure got up from the piano, looking at the crumpled mess of a troll that laid at the bottom of the stairs. It was rather surprising, or it would be if it hadn't been expected. So instead of pretending to be surprised, or waiting, the figure merely walked forward and nudged Infira lightly with her foot. She kept during this every couple minutes to try and accelerate the trolls awakening.

bump

The moment Calist heard a third party speak where there should have been only herself and her sprite, she just about jumped out of her skin. Her sprie, however, was responding with much less shock.

"Coward!", Calist's sprite shot back, "If you intend to insult someone at least have the nerve to show your face! What purpose do you even have here in the first place?!"

"Ummmm,_who_are_you_and_why_shou|d_|_||sten_to_someone_that_just_appeared_|n_my_h|ve_out_of_nowhere?", Calist asked pointedly of her unexpected guest, "|_don't_the_f|rst_th|ng_about_you,_and_you_expect_me_to_just_go_a|ong_w|th_what_you_say?_You_can't_th|nk_|'m_that_gu|||b|e."

Calist casually rocks her falldown slat from side to side, maintaining a relatively constant position facing the parasol that concealed the identity of the individual with which they were interacting, with the flat of her blade resting across her shoulders.

Calist's rebellious nature then gets the better of her. Taking one hand off her swords, she rolls through the piles of grist, collecting them as she goes, and makes a ride by grab for the parasol, executing a perfect 180 over an end table on the way back around the room.

"Hey,_|ookey_what_|_got!", she exclaims!

"What the?! DON'T HIDE BEHIND ME, YOU HORNLESS PUPA!"

And with that, Calist's sprite sticks out an armored foot, sending Calist and her injury pannel in opposite directions as Calist faceplants right into a pile of imp guts.

Calist lay motionless for a moment, still taken aback by the fact that her own sprite would poke fun at her injury. She rose slowly, fully aware that she was in for a long ordeal if she was to deal with her sprite. As far as personalities went, theirs, ironically, could not be more different.

'Ah,_r|ght!', she thought, moving to recover the parasol she had dropped upon being so rudely tripped, 'There's_st|||_th|s_to_th|nk_about!'

Taston blinked a few times when his sudden visitor teleported away. Looking between the spot she had been and his sprite. His sprite merely shrugged, as if wise to how things go around here and the believability of her sudden disappearance. His impression of the woman was mixed, while her rhyming scheme talk and seemingly innocent motive of 'helping' seemed genuine enough he still couldn't trust her. Maybe it was her mysterious nature or her aura or the way she gave him deja vu of the worst fuckin' scumbags on Alternia. But she struck him as incredibly powerful, though restrained.

He makes motion towards the crafting set up, ready to follow her advice in making some useful gear but his Angelsprite stops him,

Chatlog:

After a brief period of searching around for the garbage Taston keeps in his room and farming a few of his Imp neighbours with his awesome sword... that seemed to be a normal sword but like, slightly orange. He begins the alchemizing process. It wasn't much, a wool beast fur cap, his husktop, some debris that looked sharp, a pillow, a calculator... Taston really wishes he was more eccentric of a person at this moment. No matter, let's get to it.

He takes his METEORIC BLADE and combines it with a piece of jagged glass to create...

SILICA SAND SLASHER: The science part was the only thing the meteor chunk managed to add!

So now he has a Blade made off orange glass. Taston experiments by tapping the side of the blade on the alchemiter. The blade smashes immediately. Wow. He takes his Husk Top and mixes its function with the form of his his Wool Beast Hat to get...

L33T SH33P BEANIE: What's a sh-three-three-p? What is this a reference to? Who cares!

This is more useful, a portable communication device will be objectively helpful. He combines his L33t Sh33p beanie and his calculator to get...

THAT STAT N' STRAT HAT: A device that will help you look fresh, keep track of things and spit in the face of those who said Math wasn't cool.

He takes his current outfit and combines it with the pillow to get...

COMFY-AS-SHIT-CLOTHING: Soft on the inside, pudgy and weird looking on the outside.

Hmmm. He takes his Comfy-as-shit-clothing and combines it with a piece of metal rebarb to get.

KNIGHT'S SECRET COMFORT: Soft on the inside, radical metal armor on the outside.

He thinks he has finally managed to make something cool but unfortunately he didn't take into consideration how heavy lugging around metal armour is. He decides to keep it just encase. Maybe he'll need to sleep and wants to gurantee he won't get kidnapped. Or if he is planning on getting the shit kicked out of him without moving around a lot. He combines the SILICA SAND SLASHER with a piece of metal rebar to get...

SILICA SAND STEEL SLASHER: With so much alliteration, how could it not be good?!

The jagged transparent blade of the weapon now has a metal frame supporting it, making it much more durable. Maybe he could get more use out of the extra sharpness now that it won't fall to pieces immediately. He should probably wrap this up. He takes his current outfit and combines it with the calculator to get...

TRIGONOMETRICALLY TAILORED ATTIRE: Tan-tastic! Sin-sational! Lightweight and Cos-t Effective! (I know, everyone hates Math puns, I really gotta stop working this... 'angle')

His outfit seems to be the same shape and such. Though his jacket has been changed to the same greyish blue colour as his calculator case and a few popular symbols have positioned themselves on the cuffs and sides. All very symmetrical, he's sure. The rest have gone few a few colour changes too. Also, for some reason, his jacket now has elbow pads? Weird. At least it matches his hat. He dons both immediately.

Alright, enough with happy funtime random goddamn variety hour. We got some shit that probably needs to be done maybe. He goes up to the roof of his hive to meet with the Parasol Lady, AngelSprite in tow.

"So you're whea7? Ei7her a weirdo with an al7erna7ive agenda, or the 7u7orial of 7he game?" He asked pointedly, not backing down one bit, and in face stepping up to her challenge until both of their faces were rather close. He just grinned and stared at her, scythe over his shoulder and flame in hand.

"I always did skip 7he 7u7orial."

Talven swung his scythe, using his own neck as an axis, to attempt to catch her in the back of the neck. At the same time he finally used that fire he had been juggling, forcing it to grow into a vicious cone in front of him. She be caught between a scythe and a hot place if she didn't have the power to back up her presentation.

Either way, Talven had already been thinking and he realized that there would be no point in her offering him resources unless she needed him in some fashion. He was on guard, but it wouldn't make any sense for her to try to kill him... unless she was just a nice person he was pissing off. Oh well.

===> Shimbi: Strife

No. That's not the way Shimbi functions. You can't just willy-nilly say words at him and expect him to just do what the words say.

Either way, he isn't going to fight unless heavily provoked. Though it would be a quick battle. Yes, quite a fast battle. Though he is pacifistic (by virtue of never really being hunted by anybody, nor hunting anybody else), he is in no way an easy opponent.

Memories of his dear, sweet lusus, Sir C~A~D~A~V~E~R II, flooded back to his mind. He remembered training diligently with the Admiral Captain because Sir Captain Admiral insisted that he be trained for anything. ANYTHING. I guess, one doesn't just become a Captain Admiral just from being called that by somebody, though that is kind of what happened.

Either way, Shimbi's dolphindad prepared him for any situation the lusus could think of, though sometimes he could have sworn that the Sir's mind was quite... out-there, but he still knew that S~C~II's heart was in a good place. In fact, Sir C~A~D is the reason he has such a SHARP weapon, can utilize his fast speed, can single-handedly defeat any foe even without the speed, amongst other things. Yes, this target would be quite the easy one to take down.

He decides to instead get some answers.

He FINALLY faces the woman who has been incessantly tapping on his shoulder for who knows how long.

"Greetings! I do~not~believe that we have~met before."

Yes. That is quite the civil greeting if he would say so himself, yet quite casual indeed. It would be quite impolite to ask about their skin or hair color, or their lack of a nose or mouth.

He decides to try to not ponder it, yet he still does. Perhaps if Shimbi was ever treated to a Prospit dream (or even a Derse dream, though he isn't a Dersite), he would know that she is clearly an exile or something from there, but he doesn't. Shimbi's face turns to sheer confusion for seemingly no reason, and he just can't put his finger on why quite yet.

After several theories of just what the face could mean, he decides to give up...

"MUST~NOT~GIVE~UP."

...and he does. Shimbi then decides to introduce himself to the lady.

"My~name is Shimbi~Lornek. Though I prefer~to~keep my~occupation secret, I will~let you know that it is quite~high~up~on~the~scale~of~occupations~one~can~occupy~themselves~with. You know what? If you are at~all~curious, I will~let you know what I do/did."

"What is your~name and what is your~occupation. Why are you here? Where is here? Am I dead? Are you? Is this a dream? Are you a~friend or a~foe? What is up with your eye and lack of some facial parts? Oh my, all~of~these~questions must be so~offensive to you."

Shimbi then decides to ask yet another inane question.

"NO. MUST~GET ANSWERS."

"Do you know any~thing about some~place called "Prospit" and are you from there or some~thing? Do you know of~a~place called "Derse"?"

He then asks his inane question.

"NO. I WILL~NOT~DO THAT."

"Also, why do I feel~as~if you aren't only~here? Are you a she-demon or night~mare of some~sort? Why do I feel~as~if you torment my~friends as~well?"

He whispers the~last~part.

"You don't belong here. You are a~foreign~body~who~must~be~expelled."

Shimbi then felt woozy and was about to pass out.

Talven
The woman face may have blank, and devoid of any mouth or lips or nose. However with how the muscles around her single eye moved, it was almost as if she smiled at the attack. What kind of smile though, was left unknown due to the lack of features. Her parasol tilted up, colliding with the pole of the scythe and stopping the weapon in it's tracks completely. The cone of fire however quickly engulfed her, or where she had stood. In a loud clap of thunder and a flash of white green light, she appeared once more to the left of Talven. Her clothing was singed, and one of the veils on her arms was scorched clean off. She had lost her smile now, seeming to come to a realization

"I forgot who I was fighting for a second, and just went with the motions again....it's always the same...." She said, her eye slowly opening to reveal a pool of dark green, also most like jade itself. She then stared at Talven with a deadly ferocity, launching forward with her Parasol now collapsed in it's closed form, stabbing straight forward like one would a sword.

Her speed was rapid, and cut through the stone they fought atop of cleanly, leaving nothing but wind torn earth in her wake as her attack approached at high speeds.
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Caliste

As Caliste went to pick up the Parasol she had gotten, the white hand of the woman appeared and picked it up. She had quickly closed the distance, and seemed to simply pick it up as if it had never been taken.

"Oh foolish child of rebellion and pain, I must kindly ask you never to steal from me again.

My parasol is mine to hold, while your treasure awaits to be sold. I merely stand here now, with my intention not to make you bow.

Look to your device, and read the words of the one of the sea, and you'll see the truth of my advice.

Use your treasure, make your tools of war, and then meet me atop your hive so we may Soar."

She said, tossing the parasol to Caliste with a nod, and making another appearify out of thin air in her hand. Then, in a flash of white and green light, she was gone and left Caliste where she stood.

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Shimbi

The woman listened quietly, waiting for Shimbi ti finish fully before she herself would reply. Then with a tilt of her head, as if emulating the motions of a friendly smile without the smile itself, she spoke.

"My name, dweller of the sands, is one lost to time. If were truly to be known, it would make you speak like a Mime. So, for your ease and to prevent the drawl, Yo may call me Ms. Sol.

As for the locations you seek, be forewarned neither are for the meek. They are kingdoms at war, and now wish to let your soul soar. But, I can help you this day, so do please try remain calm and do not dismay."

She seemed for a pause for a second when Shimbi spoke the final line, then nodded knowingly.

"Yes, I am not from here, much like yourself. You see with this game comes the end of your world, and I was not ready to be placed on the shelf. So my aide is yours to use, and hopefully you shall avoid it's abuse.

Now then, use the knowledge shared by your friend and forge your loot, else this whole introduction and my pleasant poems be rendered moot. Hurry now young child of dust, and forge the tools you'll use as must.

When properly prepared you stand, I shall whisk you away to your friends in another land."

She Finished, gesturing to Shimbi and having a large pile of Grist appear before her.

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Taston

The woman stood there waiting at the top of the hive, and looked at Troll as she stood next to a large portal. The portal seemed to lead to some odd looking platform, with the edges of the portal looking like a glitching or damaged animation of a game, with sparks of white and green electricity shooting out all along it's edge.

The woman looked Taston over, and nodded as she turned to enter the portal

"As expected child, you have readied your arms for what lies ahead. Let us hope it will lead to your enemies dead."

She said, briefly gesturing Taston to follow her, before she entered the portal and walked onto the platform.

"Shi7!" Talven fell onto his back just in time to see the parasol sore into through the spot where his face had been moments before. The troll's eyes widened as he stared at her, spinning his scythe and revving up for the next attack.

"Whea7 sor7 of broken game is 7his? Going from bi7ch imps 7o you?" The normally casual Talven was taking a battle seriously for once. He eyed the ever approaching curtain of fire on the horizon and had an idea. Sure it would put him at risk, but so did fighting somebody this powerful. His face fell back into a confident grin as he charged the woman.

Right before making contact with her, he flipped over and swung his scythe at her from above as he landed on the courtyard wall, a field of fire and wheat behind him. He had nowhere to run from another full attack, unless he wanted to fall to his death. He wouldn't make attacking him easy though, as he would continue throwing pillars of fire at her on approach from his advantageous position.

"Whea7's 7he ma77er, lady? Umbrella no7 saving your delica7e skin? 7ry sunscreen nex7 7ime."